Deserved

When I was faced with the challenge of being the primary parent of “My Two”, I vowed to myself that I would be the best parent ever. I would unselfishly, and unyieldingly, provide for “My Two” whenever I could. I unpretentiously believed I was somehow “protecting” them from all hurt and sorrows that may or may not have accompanied them as a result of having to “go without”. Look. I love my children as most rational thinking parents would. It’s only natural isn’t it? Hence, I would never do anything to intentionally damage their emotional or mental development. (I battle everyday with trying to maintain a healthy emotional existence. And I know full well how difficult it is trying to keep it all together). However, I wanted to protect them as best I thought I could. I thought I was shielding them from the need of having to yearn for anything. Unbeknownst to me then, when a parent allows their child to suffer and go without, the child grows up with an appreciation for the things in life they do have. I also learned as I was in the midst of “protecting”, that when a parent allows their offspring to experience the indirect reward of failure, only then will the child learn the value of, and gratification of success.

I’ve heard people parent sometimes in the same manner as they were raised. If that be the case, well, lock me up right now and throw away that key, because I’m guilty. Thanks to my uncle, once he moved into our house, I would grow up being allowed to have basically any materialism that I wanted. Any! I didn’t have to experience angst or emotional upset as a result of having to “go without”.

I remember once while riding my brand new 10-Speed bike, I mindlessly rode into an area of town called Cabrini Green. Cabrini Green was labeled one of the many tougher sides of the South Side of Chicago. I ended up in Cabrini because I went to visit a friend of mine and ran upstairs into her apartment leaving my new bike resting against the wall in the back of her building. Now every child grows up hearing how you should never leave your bike outside unattended. Especially in rough neighborhoods. But I figured the bike was in the back of her house, no one was around, and besides, I was only gonna be in her spot for a quick sec. Well, you know what happened while I was upstairs right? When I came back outside, my brand new bike was ghost!

Upon realizing my ride was history, I moseyed to the nearest bus stop to await a bus that would bring me home. I already told you that my Uncle was the primary source for pocket change for my sister and I, so when he came home from work I approached him, eyes drenched in tears, and recounted to him what happened earlier that day. He immediately told me not to worry and that he’d buy me another one. Well true to his word when I came home from school the very next day, the twin version of my spanking new bike was in front of my eyes!

Hey, I have no doubt that my uncle loved me and believed he was doing the right thing by immediately replacing the bike that I irresponsibly allowed to get stolen. But in all actuality what he was really doing was teaching me how to disregard my belongings and not appreciate what possessions I had. Hence, to a certain point, I grew up viewing my sweet uncle as a mere pushover. I knew all I had to do to get what I wanted from him was show tears and exhibit sorrow. It worked every time. That is until I grew tired of playing him and found profound interest in other teenage distractions to occupy my time. (Believe it folks- all children take advantage of our generosity at one time or another and I was no different.)

Like I said, I’ve heard people parent as they were parented when they were growing up. So I subconsciously began to raise “My Two” regarding material possessions in the very same way. I didn’t realize until too late the repercussions of my actions. Hence, most things my children wanted, things they wanted to do, I willingly provided.

For the longest time, it was just me and “My Two”. The three of us were so very close back then that I boastfully described the three of us as “The Nucleus”. All I ever wanted was to leave a memory so lasting, and impenetrable in the minds of “My Two” that the mere thought of me would encourage their hearts go pitter-patter. Regardless how old they were when thoughts of me surfaced. I wanted them to love-me-to-death! I thought my “giving” actions would encourage them to love me more than they’d ever love anyone in the world. Boy was I wrong.

Don’t misunderstand me now, I’m in no way telling you that my children didn’t love me, but what I grew to realize was by giving them what they wanted, when they wanted, I became their doormat. I believed they unconsciously began to view me as I once viewed my uncle. The pushover. Knowing they looked at me as a pushover, didn’t deter me from spoiling them though. I allowed myself to believe they’d just see what a kind-hearted parent I was. I was only fooling myself. As time moved forward, I silently wished “My Two” would pay attention to the lessons of life as they were being taught instead of mastering the art of disrespecting me.

It’s taken me a very long time to write this story. And as overdue as it is, in my mind, this is a story that I had to write. I’ve learned it was my fault when “My Two” treated me with utter disregard, at times, as they were growing up. I knew I was the one to blame. Even now, I take full responsibility for my behavior. It is what it is, no need to try to discolor the truth now. “My Two” wouldn’t listen to me and paid little attention to my authority unless I displayed deep-seated fury coupled with rage. Over time, I became overwhelmed being a single parent and no longer cared about real discipline. So I mindlessly continued to give and give and give to them.

As much as I loved “My Two” I had to admit, I had created monsters. It took many years after they were well beyond “knee-deep aged” years and entrenched in their individual levels of selfishness and self-absorption before I fully realized the destruction of my “unintended yet powerfully harmful” actions. I Deserved the treatment that I received from my children. Silently, I felt unloved by them and vastly unappreciated.

Trust me on this one - I’m sure if “My Two” were to read these words up to the above paragraph they’d be more than furious with me. But life being the way it is, and all problems being temporary, I thank the Almighty for growth. Today, “My Two” are responsible young adults who both have jobs, their own apartments, and they each have their own vehicle. My son keeps his kitchen clean (even though when he lived with me, trying to get him to wash a dish was like trying to stop a dog from chasing a cat). My daughter is conscious of how much electricity is being used in her apartment today, because she knows the financial benefit of turning a light off when there is no one in the room.

Maybe, I didn’t know much then, and maybe I know less now, but what I do know is I Deserved the negative conduct I received when I tried to parent. And I deserve to beam with pride at how well “My Two” are turning out. If you know the tone in which I write my stories, then you know they never end the way they begin: Check out the following actions of “My Two” today, wontcha?

I Deserved - when my son called me recently for no apparent reason other than to tell me he was thinking of me and wanted to express how much he loved me.

I Deserved - when my daughter chose to blow off her friends on a Friday night in order to spend a few quiet moments with me while we did nothing other than browse in the local Wal Mart.

I Deserved - when my son instantly puts his long awaited plans aside when I phone him out of the blue and asked him to pick me up from the train station to take me home - I was too tired to endure further chaos from traveling mass transit any longer after the end of a grueling day at the grind.

I Deserved - when my daughter phoned to tell me she just wanted to make sure I was doing okay. (Ya could’ve blown me over with a feather - and I do believe I was!).

My children have finally realized I won’t be around forever and have started to appreciate me - here and now. Luckily, for us, they had the wit to want to change from the spoiled, self-centered people I knew. Anyone who tells you the rewards of good-sound parenting aren’t piggy-backed with remarkable advantages is a fool. Conversely, each-and-every-time I unintentionally blemished “My Two” by over-providing? I parented exactly like one!