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Trev 03-19-2006 12:19 AM

Mean Moms

Someday when my children are old enough to
understand the logic that
motivates a parent, I will tell them, as my Mean Mom
told me: I loved
you enough . . . to ask where you were going, with
whom, and what time
you would be home.
I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover
that your new best
friend was a creep.
I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours
while you cleaned
your room, a job that should have taken 15 minutes.
I loved you enough to let you see anger,
disappointment, and tears in
my eyes. Children must learn that their parents
aren't perfect.
I loved you enough to let you assume the
responsibility for your
actions even when the penalties were so harsh theyalmost broke my
But most of all, I loved you enough . . . to say NO
when I knew you
would hate me for it.
Those were the most difficult battles of all. I'm
glad I won them,
because in the end you won, too.
And someday when your children are old enough to
understand the logic
that motivates parents, you will tell them.
Was your Mom mean? I know mine was. We had the
meanest mother in the
whole world! While other kids ate candy for
breakfast, we had to have
cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had a Pepsi and
a ####### for
lunch, we had to eat sandwiches. And you can guess
our mother fixed us
a dinner that was different from what other kids
had, too.
Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all
times. You'd think we
were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our
friends were, and
what we were doing with them. She insisted that if
we said we would be
gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or
We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve
to break the Child
Labor Laws by making us work. We had to wash the
dishes, make the beds,
learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, empty
the trash and all
sorts of cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at
night thinking of
more things for us to do.
She always insisted on us telling the truth, the
whole truth, and
nothing but the truth. By the time we were
teenagers, she could read
our minds and had eyes in the back of her head.
Then, life was really tough!
Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn
when they drove up.
They had to come up to the door so she could meet
them. While everyone
else could date when they were 12 or 13, we had to
wait until we were 16.
Because of our mother we missed out on lots of
things other kids
experienced. None of us have ever been caught
shoplifting, vandalizing
other's property or ever arr ested for any crime. It
was all her fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated,
honest adults. We are
doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was.
I think that is what's wrong with the world today.
It just doesn't have enough mean moms!

Sandy 03-19-2006 10:01 AM

oh trev i love it. i'm sending it to me e-mail so my kids can read it, thank you.

sweetgapeach 03-19-2006 10:16 AM

I am so proud to say I am a Mean Mom !!! lol
Thanks Trev , just perfect

Sunfiresix 03-19-2006 10:25 AM

I know that we were that type of mean Mom and Dad, my kids always said your to strict. Now they have teenage children, Everyone of the kids has thanked us and said now I really know why you were like that, you cared for our mind, health and safety. They all I am proud are trying to be mean parents too. It works....

sweet 03-19-2006 10:39 AM

I am proud to say I'm a Mean Mom too. :)

Sandy 03-19-2006 10:40 AM

i'm proud to. :D :wa:

sweetgapeach 03-19-2006 11:33 AM

I just got this E Mail thought it kinda fit in here, this is way I am a mean Moma , and I am also guilty of sometimes not taking her thoughts and feelings to heart, thinking I know whats best, this was like Wow to me

Midnight Phone Call

We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the night. This night's call was no different. Jerking up to the ringing summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight.

Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the receiver.
My heart pounded; I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face my side of the bed
Mama?" I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter. When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.
"Mama, I know it's late, but don't...don't say
anything, until I finish. And before you ask, yes,I've been drinking. I nearly ran off the road a few miles back, and..."I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my
husband and pressed my hand against my forehead.Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn't right."And I got so scared. All I could think about was it would hurt you if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've been worried sick. I should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..." Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver
and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my
daughter's face in my mind and my fogged senses seemed to clear. "I think--"
"No! Please let me finish! Please!" She pleaded, not so much in anger but in desperation.I paused and tried to think of what to say. Before I could go on, she continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I shouldn't be drinking now...especially now,
but I'm scared, Mama. So scared!" The voice broke again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes
fill with moisture. I looked at my husband who sat silently
mouthing, "Who is it?"I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the room, returning seconds later with the portable phone held to his ear. She must have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are you still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so alone."
I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.

"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we
talk, you just keep telling me what I should do. You
read all those pamphlets on how to talk about sex and all, but all you do is talk. You don't listen to me. You
never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren't important. Because you're my mother,
you think you have all the answers. But sometimes I
don't need answers. I just want someone to listen.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at th how-to-talk-to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my
night stand. "I'm listening," I whispered.
"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control, I started thinking about the baby
and taking care of it. Then I saw this phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people
shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home."

"That's good, Honey," I said as relief filled my chest. My husband came closer, sat down beside me
and laced his fingers through mine. I knew from his touch that he thought I was doing and
saying the right thing
"But you know, I think I can drive now."
"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened, and I
tightened the clasp on my husband's hand. "Please wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on me until the taxi gets there." "I just want to come home, Mama.
"I know. But do this for your mama. Wait for the
taxi, please." I listened to the silence in fear. When I didn't hear her answer, I bit into my lip and closed my eyes. Somehow I had to stop her from driving.
"There's the taxi, now."
Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing.
"I'm coming home, Mama." There was a click and the
phone went silent. Moving from the bed with tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into the hall and went
to stand in my sixteen-year-old daughter's room. The dark silence hung thick. My husband came from behind,
wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the
top of my head. I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We have to learn to listen," I say

He pulled me around to face him. "We'll learn. You'll see." Then he took me into his arms, and I buried
my head in his shoulder. I let him hold me for several moments, then I pulled back and stared back at the bed.

He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know she dialed the wrong number?"

I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't such a wrong number."
"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled young
voice came from under the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring into the darkness."We're practicing," I answered.
"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes already closed in slumber
"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over
her cheek.

Sandy 03-19-2006 01:28 PM

oh sweet that brought tears to my eyes, reaaly good.

Norfolkdave 03-19-2006 01:51 PM

Regretfully chris isnt a mean mum and Im not a mean Dad, we never had children, couldnt.

Jy 03-19-2006 02:10 PM

Holy hell, Peach, I couldn't get through that without crying! Thank you SO much for sharing that with us!

Reminds me of a saying I read years ago: God gave us two ears and only one mouth so that we would listen twice as much as we talk. Thank you for reminding us.

Penny 03-19-2006 03:26 PM

My kids always hated me I was a bitch :D

bonzzz4292 03-19-2006 05:41 PM

Sweet that was a very touching story. reminds me of my younger years.

granted i never ran away from home but the drinking part is there.

Had to call home at around 5 am once. went to a party the night before, told to be home by 10 pm. well i kind of missed it. had to call for a ride home. the first phone call was unsucessful,( hung up on the opperator). the bad part of that was i picked up the reciever and started to give the phone nu. to the opperator, that is right the line was dead, i had hung up.
well i didn't get to sleep all that much and had my first leson about hangovers and work.

Shiane 03-19-2006 11:59 PM

I think that after reading that, if my kids ever say that i'm mean..... I will tell them Thank You.

Rainmaker 03-21-2006 12:04 PM

Peach as others have said that brought tears to my eyes... i know my kids r still babies... but ppl constantly tell me that i should not be buddies with my kids(they wont show me respect when the get older) this made me feel like what they say to me is sooo wrong. I know im a mean mom by trevs post(loved it trev) but no matter what i am doing i will always stop for my kids. they say we are the teachers. they forget the kids teach us each day as well.

G...G 03-21-2006 12:07 PM

Printed that out and put it on my frig. thanks Trev

Rainmaker 03-21-2006 12:07 PM


Originally Posted by georgiacountrygirl
Printed that out and put it on my frig. thanks Trev

u know.. thats great idea GA.. i may do that myself

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