Five years ago a buddy of mine got married to a woman who had eight children. The children were all under 18 years old and were from three or four different men.
She’s a real prize… multiple convictions for child endangerment, DV, etc. Has never really held a job. Was a drug addict for many years, which I believe explains why half of her children have physical deformities.
At any rate, her now 13 y.o. daughter (who has her nose pierced) and 16 y.o. son are apparently infatuated with a band called Blood on the Dance Floor. This band has written such classics as Scream for my Ice Cream (Got a montser in my pants, And if I ever get the chance, Gonna cram it down your throat, Watch you gasp for air and choke. I’m gonna jizz all in you’re face!) and Sexting (I wanna fuck you hard, I wanna feel you deep, I wanna rock your body, I wanna taste your sweet). Yes, her 13 y.o. daughter plays this stuff (and sings to it) all day.
A couple weeks ago they discovered Blood on the Dance Floor would be playing in Cleveland. They asked their mother to take them to the show, which was four hours away. The mother happily obliged, and attend the concert with them. After the show, the 16 y.o. son asked Dahvie Vanity, the band’s lead singer, for an autograph on his back. The 16 y.o. son removed his shirt and Dahvie wrote “Dahvie Vanity Me” on his bare back with a felt-tip pen.
Wait, it gets better. The next day, the 16 y.o. son told his mother that he wished the autograph on his back was permanent. So he and his mother went to a tattoo artist within the next hour, and the artist trace over the autograph. Here is the result. His mother thinks it’s awesome.
This. I worked with kids (and parents) who were in a lot worse shape than a little lacking in the discipline department.
But then I think of when I was TK Max, and saw a mother trying on stripper heels with her 7-y/o nearby. Showing off her heels, she asked the little girl: “and what do we call these?”, to which the kid happily replied: “Spunk-a-licious!” and I lost all faith in humanity
There are a couple boys in a thing I go to who are nasty little bastards. They hit each other and disrupt and bully the other kid. IF the mother notices, she will pull them apart, threaten to take them home (and followed through on that, to give her a tiny bit of credit), etc., but most of the time she’s messing around on her phone. It’s really hard to watch one kid, much less two boys under 5: put the fucking phone down.
Every single time we go to visit my sister-in-law. She’s outrageously permissive, and would much rather spend her time farting around on her computer than be an active or involved parent. She has allowed two of her three kids (12 year old son, 7 year old twin girls) to become very overweight, lazy, self-centered computer game addicts. One of the twins is naturally athletic, and is a budding gymnast, though that seems to be almost entirely due to her own interest in it.
Any comment which might possibly be construed by my sister-in-law as criticism of her parenting choices leads to a screaming match. It makes me incredibly sad to see what she’s doing to these kids.
If you want to see true epic parenting fails, just go to youth hockey a few times. The manner in which some of the kids are treated is nothing short of abusive.
While it isn’t nearly as bad as some in this thread, I saw one at an amusement park this summer that made me want to yell at the mother in question. I was sitting on a bench near the entrance to a ride with a height limit when this woman came up with a little boy who looked 4 or 5 years old. The attendent at the gate measured the kid and told the mother that he wasn’t tall enough to ride the ride. This visibly upset the kid and the mother responed, not by telling the boy they’d find another ride or doing anything I would expect to comfort him, but by telling that the ride attendent “is a bad man. He’s a bad, bad man!” as they walked off.
Forget about safety or following the rules; anyone who doesn’t give you what you want is inherently “a bad, bad man.” I guess I should be grateful she didn’t just start yelling at the attendant right there.
Why not get a couple coloring books/puzzles/kid amusement items to keep on hand, and offer chocolate milk [a little chocolate milk making powder in skim milk] you do not have to say it is skim milk … and maybe buy some kid friendly healthy snacks to give the little anklebiter. You can take everything out of packages and bring it out to them on a cute little plate and in a cute little cup . You can get prepackaged kiddy sippy cups and matching plates with cartoony character crap on it at a dollar store. If they don’t see the ‘healthy’ wrapping they can’t whinge about bratlet not liking it. Every kid likes chocolate milk!
It drives me a little crazy. But that’s because I would have got one upside the head if I misbehaved in public, so initially I feel the negative aspects of my childhood. After a moment, as I think about it, I realize these parents may not know how to deal with it, and I’m glad they’re not resorting to the approach my parents took. Kids are just kids. Some parents should do a better job of preparing their kids and themselves ahead of time, and sometimes no matter what you do, you’ll end up with a kid causing a fuss at the wrong time and place. No parent will win every battle. Actually, after a while, you start losing every battle, so you might as well get used to losing them while you’re young.
Her dad wants to buy her eldest (4) a motorbike… He can’t even ride a push bike without training wheels yet. I suggested that if they really want to give him the motorbike they could get him to pick out at least 50% of his toys to go to charity… You don’t get something for nothing?
I’m sure he will get the motorbike, even if he is naughty.
I hate it when people say “let kids be kids”. What do kids do…? They explore, they learn… Kids learn. So how can helping that learning along not be letting them be kids? Ie: reading to them, talking to them normally, explaining things, teaching things.
Sister in law severely underestimates how smart her kids are… She treats them like babies.
There was a boy in the sprog’s class last year whose parents were dirt-poor but too proud to accept help. It didn’t help that Dad was a rabid teabagger who wasn’t about to take money from “that damn socialist” because he didn’t want his taxes to go to freeloaders. Or so his T-shirt claimed. The mother was pretty mousy and didn’t say much of anything. (I met them when they were in the office for a meeting with the principal and counselor.)
The only reason the school found out about this was that some of the kids in the class were sharing their lunches and snacks with the boy, and at least one of the kids (including the sprog) had asked for extra food to share. The office was notified, and I’m not sure what happened after that. The rumor mill had it that the parents were offered applications for the free lunch program and some other social services programs, turned them down cold, and the principal threatened to call Children and Youth Services. Basically, it was “Get your kids some food, or else.”
I can’t believe that any parent would let their kids starve because of politics. It just goes against basic decency.
Kid was tired and didn’t want to pose for a family photo - not at a photo studio or anything where there’s a time constraint, just a photo at a holiday get-together. Kid started crying. Assorted relatives suggest letting the little guy have a nap or a cold drink and trying for the photo afterwards.
Dad took the kid aside and spanked him for crying. Needless to say, the kid didn’t stop crying.
And incidentally, the photo never did get taken.
Another one, from when I worked at a daycare: We had a little boy there, “M”, who still haunts me. “M” was big for his age, but he was lagging significantly in language and social skills. His parents were both working full-time-plus, so “M” was often the first kid to arrive and nearly always the last to leave. When the other kids had left, “M” would cling to the last adult to leave. During these times I would often sit with him in my lap and sing to him or read him books - if you had seen him in the middle of the day, you would not have believed that he could sit still for book after book. We tried to address his parents about these things, but they were always “too busy”. Did I mention they were expecting another child in the middle of all of this?
The memory that haunts me the most is from one of the days I closed up. The new baby had been born, so “M”'s mother was home. During this time “M” was dropped off by his father and picked up by his grandmother most days. This day, I was told, “M” had been promised that his mother and his new little brother would pick him up. But things dragged on and on, and “M” was the last one left again. We sat on the floor and played with Lego until… his grandmother walked in to pick him up. “M” threw himself on the floor and cried and cried. Grandma had to carry him to the car.
My story about him ends when his parents put him in another daycare - their stated reason was that the other one was open longer hours
My stepchildren got tattoos at the age of 16 with their mother’s approval.
The boy’s is based on his own artwork; it’s meant to be a ninja ripping its way out of his spine, and represents his anger. :rolleyes: Looks like an irritable Keebler elf.
The girl’s is a design on her lower back (as I’m sure you guessed). She got her boyfriend’s name, only she wasn’t sure they’d stay together, so opted for numbers representing the letters of his name. Looks like a locker combination. And did they stay together?
Lots of times, but when I was around 10 or 11, my uncle came over from India with his family. They had a son that was about 6 or 7 who was spoiled rotten. I ended up having to watch the kid a lot. I saw him smack his mom right in the mouth and his mom just sat there and cried, while he ran in circles, whooping and hollering. Many many times I saw his dad want to yell at him or spank him but mom would protest, saying he was “beaten black and blue” from all the (non-existent) spankings.
One day we were in the back of the station wagon driving somewhere. I had on a brand new salwar-kameez; silk. Me and the kid got in a fight and he spat on my clothes. Well, i was only 10! I hauled back and smacked him across the face as hard as I could. Gave him a bloody nose. His mom hauled him over the seat, and from then on he stayed away from me and wouldn’t mess with me anymore.
I still wonder - that kid must have grown up to be quite the hellion.
I took my daughter to the doctor a few weeks ago for her vaccinations and there was a family in the waiting room that made me very sad. There was a mother, an aunt, and six kids of various ages from about 4-13. The kids were insane, screaming and running around into various rooms where people were being treated by doctors. Every 10 minutes or so a nurse would usher another kid back to the waiting room from wherever she found them. The mother was being seen by a doctor so the aunt was trying to corral the kids by giving them Capri Sun and smacking them. The kids got hit by their aunt and each other so often it was obvious that hitting was just their way of life. At one point the mom walked out into the waiting room and screamed that if the kids weren’t quiet until she was finished she was going to “pop them one” and then went back to the doctor’s exam room.
I just rolled my eyes. What a threat, getting hit 15 times instead of 14 times this hour! I’d be shaking in my boots, I would!:rolleyes:
Me” on his bare back with a felt-tip pen.
