As an adult he has addiction issues and issues with spousal abuse and has treated the local jails as if they have a revolving door. He blames me for all of his faults as an adult. He has been arrested on several occasions of assault. Several times he has assaulted his baby momma. He currently has been clean for a few months as part of a bail condition but he can no longer see his children. He feels that I treated him differently because he was not my child. He feels I relied on him more as a child because I did not love.
We have had several heart-to-heart talks and I have explained over and over again how it was for me. As a parent, I raised my kids the best I could. I relied on him because he was there and able to assist. I have tried to make him understand I see him doing the same with his kids that I did with mine. He feels that he was made to feel small and unimportant. For that I have apologized time and again. His own dad played a role in this but he just feels that his dad was working and that the rest fell on my shoulders. I am sorry that he feels that way. However, there comes a point in every one’s life where you accept it and move on or don't accept it and move on. He and I cannot keep doing this danced every 6 months. There is nothing I can do to change the past. He cannot use the past as a crutch to excuse his abusing alcoholic behaviors as an adult.
As parents we hope for the best and we want the best for our children. We want our children to have better then we had as kids. We want them to have better educations and better opportunities. We want them to be happy and healthy. As parents we all make mistakes that we regret later in life. As parents we can reflect on our own upbringings and how that influenced us as parents. We cannot make someone else accept the past for what it is. We cannot make someone move on. However, we can decide to move on. I love my son but I have said sorry too many times now and it is time to move on. I need to admit to myself that at this point in his life he only wants to acknowledge me when he needs something. That’s okay, he is my son and I love him and if and when the time comes that he can truly forgive and forget then can start to build a relationship.
We have had several heart-to-heart talks and I have explained over and over again how it was for me. As a parent, I raised my kids the best I could. I relied on him because he was there and able to assist. I have tried to make him understand I see him doing the same with his kids that I did with mine. He feels that he was made to feel small and unimportant. For that I have apologized time and again. His own dad played a role in this but he just feels that his dad was working and that the rest fell on my shoulders. I am sorry that he feels that way. However, there comes a point in every one’s life where you accept it and move on or don't accept it and move on. He and I cannot keep doing this danced every 6 months. There is nothing I can do to change the past. He cannot use the past as a crutch to excuse his abusing alcoholic behaviors as an adult.
As parents we hope for the best and we want the best for our children. We want our children to have better then we had as kids. We want them to have better educations and better opportunities. We want them to be happy and healthy. As parents we all make mistakes that we regret later in life. As parents we can reflect on our own upbringings and how that influenced us as parents. We cannot make someone else accept the past for what it is. We cannot make someone move on. However, we can decide to move on. I love my son but I have said sorry too many times now and it is time to move on. I need to admit to myself that at this point in his life he only wants to acknowledge me when he needs something. That’s okay, he is my son and I love him and if and when the time comes that he can truly forgive and forget then can start to build a relationship.
How much of who we are and how we act is influenced by how we were raised? How much does a person’s environment affect the outcome of who they become? Does growing up in the north end make you more gangster? Does growing up with parents who drank a lot make you more susceptible to addiction? Does growing up on welfare with no money make you more or less motivated to strike out on your own?
I was the oldest of 4 girls raised by parents who for the most part could not work. My mother had a grade 4 education, growing up in northern Manitoba in a foster home during a period when girls were expected to learn to cook and clean and raise a family. My father, much older than my mother had health issues as far back as I could remember. To say we were poor is an understatement. We lived on a farm about 15 minutes outside of Rorketon Manitoba, less than an hour and a half from Dauphin MB. We did not have running water and we did not have electricity. We walked about a mile to the neighbors to pump water over the first spring that we lived on the farm. We eventually dug a well and had well water. I recall my father building a fire pit and bake stove out of bricks. I can recall him standing out there cooking in the rain and in the cold. We moved there in the spring and I assume we must have gotten electricity at some point closer to fall. The food we ate was food we grew or food we hunted. Before we settled at the farm for a couple of years we moved around a lot. From Ontario to Manitoba. Moves were likely prompted by lack of money to pay bills and hope for a better future somewhere else. Life got easier when we moved to the city. I was about 12 when we moved to Winnipeg. Maybe it just seemed easier as we moved into housing and lived around other people who had no money either.
Having 5 children and in a blended family by age 23 was no easy task. Life was hectic. The road before me seemed long and winded but some how much clearer then the path behind me. My husband was older than me and at that age he was my knight in shining armor. How tarnished it was I would not know for several years. I was scared of my own shadow back then. I was glad to be a stay-at-home mom and glad to let him bring home the bacon. Having 5 kids all under the age of 7 was hectic. Of the 5, 3 were in diapers, 2 full time and one at night. My oldest had been diagnosed with ADHD which made a lot of sense as he could focus on and memorize wrestler stats but could not and would not follow a simple instruction like getting me a baby sleeper. Is this important? Hell yes, because the second oldest was relied on a lot for simple small tasks such as get mommy a sleeper please. He was not my biological son and, although I raised him from 1 year old, he constantly reminds me to this day that he is not my child. He had the same kind of childhood as any of the kids had. For some reason he seems to recall his childhood more as if he was a personal slave then a child (which is funny as my eldest son - the one with ADHD - today says he felt like he did more of the work). There are many parts of the story that I have left out for several reasons. One this is not a book but a blog and two it is not relevant to the blog. One thing I will say is that his dad and I split up before he was 12 and from that point on he usually never acknowledged his siblings or myself unless he needed something.
I was the oldest of 4 girls raised by parents who for the most part could not work. My mother had a grade 4 education, growing up in northern Manitoba in a foster home during a period when girls were expected to learn to cook and clean and raise a family. My father, much older than my mother had health issues as far back as I could remember. To say we were poor is an understatement. We lived on a farm about 15 minutes outside of Rorketon Manitoba, less than an hour and a half from Dauphin MB. We did not have running water and we did not have electricity. We walked about a mile to the neighbors to pump water over the first spring that we lived on the farm. We eventually dug a well and had well water. I recall my father building a fire pit and bake stove out of bricks. I can recall him standing out there cooking in the rain and in the cold. We moved there in the spring and I assume we must have gotten electricity at some point closer to fall. The food we ate was food we grew or food we hunted. Before we settled at the farm for a couple of years we moved around a lot. From Ontario to Manitoba. Moves were likely prompted by lack of money to pay bills and hope for a better future somewhere else. Life got easier when we moved to the city. I was about 12 when we moved to Winnipeg. Maybe it just seemed easier as we moved into housing and lived around other people who had no money either.
Having 5 children and in a blended family by age 23 was no easy task. Life was hectic. The road before me seemed long and winded but some how much clearer then the path behind me. My husband was older than me and at that age he was my knight in shining armor. How tarnished it was I would not know for several years. I was scared of my own shadow back then. I was glad to be a stay-at-home mom and glad to let him bring home the bacon. Having 5 kids all under the age of 7 was hectic. Of the 5, 3 were in diapers, 2 full time and one at night. My oldest had been diagnosed with ADHD which made a lot of sense as he could focus on and memorize wrestler stats but could not and would not follow a simple instruction like getting me a baby sleeper. Is this important? Hell yes, because the second oldest was relied on a lot for simple small tasks such as get mommy a sleeper please. He was not my biological son and, although I raised him from 1 year old, he constantly reminds me to this day that he is not my child. He had the same kind of childhood as any of the kids had. For some reason he seems to recall his childhood more as if he was a personal slave then a child (which is funny as my eldest son - the one with ADHD - today says he felt like he did more of the work). There are many parts of the story that I have left out for several reasons. One this is not a book but a blog and two it is not relevant to the blog. One thing I will say is that his dad and I split up before he was 12 and from that point on he usually never acknowledged his siblings or myself unless he needed something.
Norm says: |