I may have to adjust my "Parenting Style". I've been thinking, and the things I was taught at home, the issues we dealt with, had quite an impact on my life. Perhaps not the way my mother intended, however...
Growing up, breakfast was a battle. I have never been a morning person, and eating first thing is the day is not appealing to me. Even as an adult, I manage a cup of coffee and a piece of fruit bread, and that's it. My mother felt that a good breakfast was crucial, and it became a major source of tension between us.
Mom gave us each an orange at breakfast every morning, all winter long. I HATED oranges. I hated the pulp, the mess, the skin, everything. It took me forever to eat that orange every day. And now? I will not eat an orange. I don't even like orange juice. I might eat a mandarin at Christmas, but that's it.
Porridge was another staple. I would sit there, watching the grey mass congeal, the milk turn warm, and just gag at every bite. Mom watched like a hawk, making sure it all went down. Why anyone would want to eat a bowl of gooey, chunky, grey mucus is beyond me. I don't even have oatmeal in the house. I have occasionally eaten a packet of the instant stuff, where the first five ingredients are sugar, corn syrup, glucose, sucrose and fructose. But the healthy, rib-sticking porridge from my childhood? Never.
I wasn't allowed to wear make-up as a teen. In fact, I was in my twenties before my mother ever saw me with mascara on. To wear make-up was like announcing "Yes, I am leaving the church to become a prostitute". So of course, I wear the full face every day. Even if I'm not going anywhere, and no one but my family will see me, I wear make-up. My best friend said the surest sign that things were not well after Girl Terror was born was the fact that a week later, I still had a bare face.
I'm sure there are lots of positive things from my childhood, and just as likely many things cannot be blamed on Mom. I probably would have left the church anyway. I like to eat meat. There is alcohol (gasp!) in my house. But I have to wonder, what will my kids reject from their upbringing?
Am I raising kids who will hate books, love TV, and eat ice cream for breakfast?! Are they going to decide I was a nutty old bat, and wear rubber boots year round? Maybe they will insist on eating their french fries first at every meal out. I'm pretty sure I see the signs of "nap rejection" coming on. I better take a good hard look at how I run this house, and hope it's not too late!