I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also. But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did. My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actualy hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was. We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends? The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us. She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did. By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year. Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks. As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out. My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults. Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.
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Judy
"There is no moment of delight in any journey like the beginning of it"
That sounds just like my mum, THANKS MUM I have now raised a son and daughter of whom I am extremely proud having used the same nasty principals as my mum taught me.
The world needs more mean mums
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Life was meant to be enjoyed Australia was meant to be explored
Happily doing both to the Max.
Life is like a camera, focus on what's important & you will capture it every Time
Amen to that. There should be more of us I feel. I can see that thankfully my daughters are both following the trend and I'm delighted. Happy Mean Mothers Day to all you mums.
Funny isn't it my daughter who complains long and loud about her childhood..................... is now starting to get mean with 4yr old girl...I just smile and say "Mmmmmmmm"
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Judy
"There is no moment of delight in any journey like the beginning of it"
I was another mean Mum... I actually thought that I held the title of "The Meanest Mother" until I read this post. It sure paid dividends though as I couldn't be prouder of my 4 grown children.
The part that amuses me is that when I am visiting my family, I often hear one of my children chastising the grandies by saying the same very "mean" things that I used to say to them.
Well I hope all the MEAN MUM's have a great mothers day....I will even though I miss my mum terribly ( 5yrs now)................she also was proud of her mean mum title....I have a daughter and son and 1 charming 4yr old grandaughter......
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Judy
"There is no moment of delight in any journey like the beginning of it"
I don't remember my mum. She was 25, it was 1955, and I was 4.5 yrs. My grandmother did it, and very firm. I sometimes wonder if she was mean to me to make up for what she failed to achieve with my mum. I felt raised and disciplined, but I never really felt loved. I tried not to do that to my 3 daughters, but according to my wayward youngest 30 year old believes I'm the worst mum because I don't love her conditionally, no matter what she does, what she says. While I love all my girls and my grandchildren, they are all different, and the youngest is really not the child I gave birth to and raised. I still love the daughter I gave birth to. It took a lot of counselling and rationalising to come to that conclusion.
Happy Mum's Day all you girls out there.
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20ft Roma caravan - Mercedes Benz Sprinter - SA-based at the moment. Transport has no borders.
Management makes the decisions, but is not affected by the decisions it makes.
Had one of those myself - but she has mellowed over the years - and I still love her to bits (she was 83 last month) and spent the day with her yesterday. By the way dad was jus as mean and he too has mellowed as time's gone by.
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Esmeralda
It aint over until the fat lady sings, and I dont feel like singing just yet!
