My parents were fantastic. They treated us with respect and let us make our own decisions and mistakes. We had no formal house rules and the kids knew that if we screwed up we would loose that privilege. So we always came home at a reasonable time, or called if something went wrong and we couldn’t. My parents were always crystal clear in one thing, that no matter where you are, or what time it is, if something is wrong, we will pick you up, no questions asked.
We had dinner as a family every night.
When the family of my oldest brothers best friend were moving in his senior year, both my brother and his friend were devastated. They offered to take in the friend until he graduated. Things were a little tight that year with four teenagers in the house, but it was worth it.
They let my brother truck in load after load of sand and turned our backyard into a beach volleyball court in the summer, and we froze it in the winter for an ice rink.
When my middle brother went through a family sucks phase, they never forced him to go on a family vacation he didn’t want too. Which was good because we went through a sailing phase and being stuck on a sailboat with a sullen teenage boy is not fun.
I appreciate this one more now than at the time, but they travelled without the kids. When I was a kid I got to hang out with my favorite babysitter for a week, and now as an adult I know that having kids doesn’t mean your life is on hold until they are out of the house. You can still do all the things you wanted to do.
I don’t remember a single fight between them.
They raised all of their children to be self sufficient, and to do what they love. They were there with support when we needed it, and tough love when we needed that.
Both my parents worked and we lived in a rich neighborhood growing up. That said, even though we could afford a maid and nice things, my parents kept us at a decidedly middle class lifestyle. While other kids who couldn’t appreciate it went off to Europe and other exotic locations, we went camping, to the beach, and other places because my parents sacrificed to give us a better life in the end. When I turned 16, I remember every one of my other friends got a car. Although I got one two, it was a piece of crap, and my parents made a deal where I had to put in one dollar for every nine they spent to teach me the value of what I was getting. They put a huge value on education and going to graduate school. Their promise to me was always that their savings from us not blowing it in childhood would be used to pay for our education anywhere we wanted to go, and indeed, not having student loans was and stressing about finances during school helped me concentrate and be a better student.
Once we got older, we took some exotic vacations too, but they always taught me the value of a dollar and while I share their love of other cultures and have the money to buy nice things, I specifically don’t because I definitely learned that being a show-off just makes you a douche.
I do truly love my parents and realize with every passing day how much they taught me about life without me realizing it.
My parents did a great job. I mean, they certainly weren’t without fault, but they always had my best interests at heart and now that I’m old enough to look back with an unbiased eye I can’t really see anything they did wrong.
They were older, which I think helps a lot - more perspective on the whole thing, you know. They definitely had opinions on what I ought to do with my life (my dad every so often still mentions that he’d be thrilled to pay for me to get an MBA - I suppose he gave up on the engineering thing years ago) but always supported me in whatever I wanted to do.
I never had money just to throw around, but I definitely had everything I needed and most things I really truly wanted (and if I wanted it bad enough, there was plenty of work for me to do to make some extra.) I went to summer nerd camp for years and years, which I’m sure wasn’t cheap but they considered a good investment. Ditto things like piano and horseback riding lessons - they backed everything that was educational to the hilt.
That said, I had plenty of nice, healthy boundaries - I think some of them were stricter than I would put on my own kids, but there was nothing wrong with them and my parents weren’t inflexible.
I do still resent being forced to attend church every Sunday until I went to college, but if that’s the biggest problem you have in your life you’re doing pretty damned well, IMHO. Also, I’m sure part of the reason I’m such a slob is that my parents were neat freaks - I have never and will never see the point of making a bed. My dad also wasn’t the most patient dude in the world, which I see sneaking out again now that they’ve taken in my brother’s kids - it’s crazy how the parents you used to know come right back out when there are teenagers in the house again!
I wouldn’t trade them for anybody else’s parents, either. I forget how lucky I am until I read here all about people’s shitty upbringings.
If you’ve ever seen “That '70s Show,” Red and Kitty Foreman were my parents to a T. Mom was and still is totally devoted to my brother and me, and the happiest person I know. Dad was often grouchy, demanding, and critical, but we always knew he loved us and knew he was totally dependable. In other words, we knew that if the time ever came, he’d help us dispose of a dead body, even while giving us a raft of crap for having killed someone.
My parents were definitely not perfect - my mom is passive aggressive and my dad has a short fuse - but on the whole, they did a good job of parenting. They put a heavy emphasis on the importance of education, took me to museums, read me books every night before I could read, bought me tons of books when I could, indulged my whims to learn ballet or whatever even though we didn’t have a lot of money. They supported my desire to learn to play the flute, paying for private lessons and my own flute a year before music classes were available in the public school. My dad was my softball coach one year and took me to ballgames.
My parents were always the “cool” parents - even today, my friends all think my parents are awesome. My dad, especially, is perpetually worried that I am too serious and don’t have enough fun. He’s always glad to hear when I tell him I went out with friends and didn’t get home until 3 am. My parents were hippies in Berkeley in the 60s and 70s (at their wedding, my mom walked down the aisle to Pink Floyd) and in general, didn’t try to force me into any vision they had for me, and let me choose my own way. Well, they probably would have been disappointed if I’d grown up to be a Republican.
I think my parents did a great job. They are still alive, thank goodness, though my dad turns 80 this year and he has prostate cancer.
I can only say that they were always very reasonable with me: Strict when necessary, lenient when they could be. The household was very intellectually stimulating – my dad was an engineer, and I have lots of scientists and engineers in my extended family – and that was the perfect environment for me.
My folks did an exemplary job, frankly. I knew from an early age that I was a wanted, loved, supported child, and given appropriate discipline and rewards. They parented me quite well without trying to be my friend, and my father especially inspired me to work to be as good a man as he was.
THey weren’t perfect, but I always knew they were trying their best, to be good parents, good spouses, and all around good people.
When they died, the large number of folks who came from all over the country to attend their funerals was stunning.
Sadly they both died young, but they saw me overcome many of my short-comings to achieve a happy and productive life.
Good parents are well matched to their kids. My mother somehow knew in the first grade that I was ready for Jules Verne books, and gave them to me and let me read them without a fuss, and never made me think I was doing anything odd compared to my peers. It took me until I had kids to realize this, I wish she were alive so I can ask her how she knew. She was always there just enough, not too much.
My father was a '50s parent, but when I got into Boy Scouts I connected with him a lot more, since he took up a leadership role he gave up when I was born. I learned a lot of great skills from him.
They both felt education was important, as a natural thing, and were proud of what I did and never pressed. No A- is a failure in my family. And they enabled me to go to the school I wanted and paid for nearly all of it, though that was much easier in those days. This despite the fact that I had also been admitted to a school where I could have gone for free.
But the best thing was that, looking back at it, I was a pretty odd kid. I never got into trouble or anything, but they treated everything I did as totally normal and supported the good stuff.
The reason I said that it depends on the kid is that my brother, who is less than two years younger than me, had a lot more issues than I did.
My parents were great- loving, kind, but firm when necessary. They also weren’t big on vicariously living their lives through me, or ensuring that I didn’t make the same mistakes they did, like so many other parents of people I grew up with. They were strict on some things, overprotective (or so I thought at the time). Basically, they made it hard to go get drunk in high school and mess around with girls too much, which was probably a good thing, all else considered.
I played football because I wanted to, not due to parental pressure. I went to the college I did and majored in what I did because I wanted to, not because of what they wanted.
I guess what my parents did better than anything was making my brother and I feel loved and supported, but they also made a concerted effort to teach us both the value of good decision making and the consequences of our actions. This made us both responsible, without being fearful, and confident without being foolhardy. Too many parents of our acquaintance either overprotected and never let their kids suffer any consequences, or were all consequence with no reward.
You said what I wanted to say. A couple of years ago, I told my parents “Thank you for the way you raised me.” I grew up middle class, but I moved away from home with my cloths, some books, a little money, and myself. And the education and skills to take care of myself.
I had to laugh at your last paragraph. I’ve told a number of people that the worst punishment I could think of was to have a parent look at me, sadly shake their head and say “I’m so disappointed.” I’d rather have been grounded, spanked or assigned a weeks worth of extra chores.
My parents have always been great. They let me be an individual and let me make my own decisions but were there if I fell. Two anecdotes:
I was in grade 8 and my principal decided that since I was so bright, I should go to the special school (a bus ride away and away from all my friends with no music program ack!) where they focussed on ‘gifted’ students. Sent a letter home and set up a meeting with my parents to discuss it. We showed up and the principal started off by asking why I was there. My parents said to him that they were curious why THEY were there since it was my decision. The then asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to go to the school across the street with all my friends, my sister and their great music program. We then got up and left.
On the other side of the coin, I was shopping for a house six years ago. Of course, I knew nothing about houses. Looked one over, thought about making an offer but was hesitant. So, what does a 26 year old, married girl do? I phoned my daddy. Asked him to come look at the house. He promptly left the hardware store where he was shopping and arrived 30 minutes later with my mom in tow to inspect the place. Deemed it livable (and pointed out the flaws, as any good parent should do) and I bought it the same night.
I still cherish their opinions (even when they differ) and can call them at the drop of a hat if I need help. Yet, they always treat me like me, not like a carbon copy of themselves or my sister. And they will still help me pick up the pieces of I do anything stupid.
(He has also taught my husband who didn’t know the business end of a screwdriver basic plumbing and electrical. Saved me a fortune and they got to bond.)
There have never been a lot of 'I love you’s in our house but there is never any doubt that you are loved.
Yeah, my parents were good honest people who taught me a strong work-ethic and values. They weren’t perfect and but no one is. They worked hard all their lives, and did the best they could by all their children.
My parents did a bang-up job, despite having their flaws. The big thing was that they raised kids to be adults. They didn’t ever say “kids will be kids”. They treated us like they’d treat an adult. At age 8, if I wanted to sleep over a friend’s house, I had to call and talk to the other parent my self to see if it was OK. By age 14, if I wanted spending money, I was told to get a job. At 16, I had no curfew, nor did I have to call home to let anyone know where I was. I did anyway out of respect for them.
When I messed up, I was expected to atone like an adult. If I broke something, I paid to replace it. If I insulted someone, I apologized. We didn’t really get “grounded”.
We had a saying in the house: “Food, clothing, shelter”, meaning that’s all my parents had to provide for us. If you wanted someone else, you had to achieve it on your own. They’d give advice and minor aid, but it was really up to you, and any outside assistance was to be considered a bonus.
Today, all their kids have houses and jobs. We’re stable and still connected. We don’t feel like the world owes us anything and we aren’t naive about anything. I see other people my age who came from homes with doting parents. They don’t know how to cook or clean. They’re afraid to try to do their taxes. They don’t have insurance and don’t take care of their cars. It’s a shame that they were raised to be children.
I have never once, at any second in my life, doubted that either of my parents loved me. We had fights and we pissed each other off and all the rest of it - we still do, on occasion - and I’m sure sometimes they didn’t like me very much, specially when I was a teenage brat. But I’ve always known they loved me and always will, no matter what, the same way I know the sun rises in the morning.
There was other stuff I think they did right, but that was the biggie. I credit it with many of the best things in my life - a good marriage and good friends. It’s much easier to be loved and loving if that’s something you’ve taken for granted since birth.
My best and oldest friend named his son after my dad. He later confided in me that he considered my mom and dad his inspiration in how parents are supposed to treat their kids.
My dad was not the touchy-feely type. We almost never hugged, and I can count on one hand the number of times he said “I love you”. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that if I was ever in any kind of trouble, he would do everything in his power to help me.
Mom is still trying to help me, to this day, even when I don’t need it or want it.
As a teenager, I thought my parents morality was old-fashioned. But, as I got older, the things they disapproved of turned out to have practical consequences. And I couldn’t accuse them of hypocrisy, because they mostly practiced what they preached.
I have seen a lot of couples whose relationships are passionate, and exciting, and dramatic. They usually end up in nasty divorces. My parents never did dramatic gestures. They just treated each other decently. Day in, day out. Week in, week out. Month in, month out. Year in, year out. For over 50 years.
