When I say I want to go to college, please don’t tell me there is no reason for that, and if I get a ‘good factory job’ I’ll be set for life. I wanted so much more than that.
Don’t make me feel like I was a disappointment to you, Mom. Tell me you love me every once in a while.
Listen to me. Don’t brush off everything I say because I’m just your child. When I’m an adult, I would love to be your friend as well.
I’m sorry you both are so myopic you don’t realize you have both had amazing lives, but please don’t take out your misplaced anger on the child you’re about to have.
If you wanted an abortion you should have had it due to it being a traumatic and bad time and you both being very old and tired, but you didn’t so please don’t tell your child you should have aborted him weekly because you shouldn’t have to deal with this shit.
Your kid is autistic, do not be dissappointed. Instead realize he is different, will grow and think differently and won’t live up to your internal expectations, and for the love of god don’t treat 30 year old him as if he is still the non-verbal child you hated. Your kid will have a very hard teen and early adults years otherwise when what was a trusted adviser that tries to help you is dismissed as a retard.
Oh and mom, even though I know you won’t take the advice, you really need to get help as in psych help for the trauma you went through a year ago.
Keep her off horses.
My parents don’t like to take any advice from me, so I’d probably need to phrase this as opposites like “don’t save any money for his college fund”, “don’t ever take him on vacations”, etc.
In about eighteen years she will be halfway out the door before you realize that you need to open up to the people who love you. Beat the Christmas rush and do it now. You deserve it and we’ll all be happier for it and yes, happiness is that important.
Oh yeah, and show some love for your eldest daughter, even though she ran off to be a hippie. Don’t get overwhelmed by it. You will be proud of her. While you’re at it, it wouldn’t hurt to visit your kids from time to time.
Undo the damage that was done to you and magically morph into what he needs you to be.
Mom, Dad, don’t change a thing. I had a great childhood, and can’t think of anything different you should have done.
It’s not going to all fall neatly into place like it did with your daughters who were born on schedule. This one is not going to fit into a family where there are huge age gaps between her and everyone else. Try to make alternate arrangements for at least half the so-called family visits, so she can stay with a family who appreciates her. When people say “You’re not going to bring the kid, are you?” they mean “Don’t bring the kid”. So when you bring her and they give her the cut direct, it’s not because she’s a problem child.
If you can’t afford that magnet school on your own, get a bank loan. Or borrow from her paternal grandmother. Og knows she "lends’ enough money to her other son.
Food, clothing and shelter means food, clothing and shelter. It does not mean that when the plumbing breaks down, you go “on strike” and refuse to buy her any new clothes so that her father will feel sorry for her and get the plumbing fixed.
Any one of these would work, with some important caveats
For my father: Fuck off and die before you cause more damage in the world. The level of treatment available in the 60s would not have helped a psychopath, abuser and a serial sex predator. You should be in prison and never be allowed near children. All parenting rights should be removed and you should be somewhere where you’re not a danger to society.
For my mother: If father wouldn’t be so kind as to oblige, run! Change your name and identity and get the hell out of Dodge. However, and I know how much this would hurt you, although you are one of the sweetest people in the entire world farm us out. You simply lack the skills to raise children older than six.
If you want, drop us off with your older brother. He’s the only member of your fucked up family who managed to do well with raising kids. Break us up though, so Narcissist Jr., aka Older Brother gets adopted. Or me, whichever.
But then wouldn’t that make you an adoptee and thus a vampire?
Personally I had a decent childhood.
There’s this disease called “Depression.” It’s a real disease, and it needs to be treated, with medicine and, sometimes, therapy. It is not a phase, it will not go away on its own, and it is not an admission of shame or weakness to seek treatment for it, even (especially) for a child.
Bullying is real, and victims of bullying do not bring it on themselves.
Not every child will be properly served by the public education system.
Yes, Little Homie is inquisitive, sharp, and scores well above his peers on intelligence tests. That does not mean he should go to college; the job market is going to crash horribly for college grads by the time Homie is an adult. Tell him to go to tech school and learn to be an electrician or something; he can satisfy his love for knowledge by learning and reading on his own.
No, it would make a child whose parents had died, but was properly raised by their loving, responsible relatives.
Don’t let me eat so much candy, make me brush my teeth and, if you hate each other just get divorced already.
God, I was a difficult kid. I realize that now, and I cut my parents so much more slack now than I used to. They managed a billion times better than I would have done, that’s for sure. Considering what a weirdo I was, and still am, if it had been me in that situation, it would probably have ended with the kind of horrible thing you see in the newspapers.
For instance, they should have forced me to take part in some after-school activities, involving other kids, even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t play well with other children, but I still needed the early practice in socializing. Considering how stubborn and pig-headed I was, though, not to mention prone to tantrums and crying fits at the drop of a hat, I can’t blame them too much for picking their battles carefully. It must have been frustrating. A lot of the time just getting through the day without a murder-suicide scenario must have felt like a victory.
The best thing my parents did was probably getting one more kid. If it hadn’t been for my younger brother turning out non-flaky, giving them a normal specimen to compare the dysfunctional one to, they would probably have blamed themselves for a lot of stuff.
How’s about waiting several years before you pump out kids 2, 3 and 4.
If not possible, divorce, NOW!
For God’s sake, don’t feed your children sugar, except as a once-in-awhile treat. Especially no Coca-Cola or Pepsi.