Parenting styles

[BillChin]

Susan's topic brings this one to my mind.

What style of parenting did you receive? If you didn't see much of your parents, then answer about the adult influences in your life. Even for those with full time parents, other adult influences might be worth writing about. If a person would rather write from the parent's point of view instead of the kid's that may be of interest too.

Was it mostly hands on parenting with them always around and everything scheduled, or mostly hands off with them never around, and not seeming to care, or middle of the middle?

Did they try to tap your potential (eg sign you up for lessons or buy you equipment if you showed an interest in something)? Or did they tell you to forget about that stuff, because it is not important, and force you away from certain sports, music, or other activities?

Were they encouraging with praise? Was is saccharin coated, so you knew it was insincere? Or were they condemning telling you that whatever you did, it still wasn't any good?

Did they tell you that the future was bright and you could do amazing things? Or did they constantly worry and tell you that things were going to get worse and worse?

[emmline]

That Bill, is a big question that is mighty hard to answer concisely.

However, I'll try.

According to the friends who hovered around our household as we (me, my brother and sister who were, respectively, 2 and 1 year older,) were growing up, we were Kitten (me), Princess (my sister) and Bud (my brother) from Father Knows Best, complete with Robert Young and Jane Wyatt-like parental units.
As one friend of my brother's said: "Yeah, Jim's just like Bud. Jim's a lot smarter than Bud, but he's just as dumb."

I would characterize the parenting style as caring and involved, but not in any way controlling or structured. Rather laissez-faire by some standards...we were just disinclined to get into too much trouble because the good character and intentions of our parents were clear, and no one strove to disappoint.

My own parenting personality is not unlike that in that I depend on my children to be good people and largely they've lived up to it with minimal interference and coercion.
I do not, however, manage my mother's feat of a set table at dinner and the proper accompaniments to an all-American main course. We are relaxed, perhaps to a fault.
There has been a single-parent flavor to their upbringing in that their dad has been medically unable to be a go-to parent for many years, but his influence, as an honest, loving, all-around fine individual has marked them in a very positive way.

My children have noted things like how some of their friends had parents who micromanaged their grades and such, and they always felt appreciative that I did not. But I did not need to, and they knew it.
This is not to say I do not step in where necessary--the youngest, for example (now 16) requires a bit more follow-up--but, still, it's minimal.

[chas]

Father was the firm disciplinarian, mother was pretty laid back. They weren't affectionate, but were still loving. My father was really good about going to all my football and baseball games (and making sure I played whether I wanted to or not); they were both good about stuff like band concerts, etc. Their best characteristic was patience -- I was (and still am) interested in everything, and they always answered my questions, whether their answers were fact, speculation, or occasionally downright made up. That curiosity was never squelched, and it's carried me far.

I was a caboose, so I was also raised by my sisters and brother to a great extent.

They were good about praising effort and achievement. Even in my middle age, I invite them down for award ceremonies. In fact, I think they get more of a kick out of that stuff now than they did 30 years ago.

[cowtime]

My parents were great and I honestly had a wonderful childhood. My brother(3 yrs younger) and I knew we had to behave, but we were given a lot of freedom growing up on a farm but also were taught to do hard work. Both my parents loved learning and expected excellence-especially my dad who had to have everything perfect. Mom was always home for us(think the typical 50's tv mom,she was and still is the ultimate proper mom and I still rely on her, but dad was always working, usually late into the night or even for days if piece of mine machinery was down. Days with dad were always very special and to be treasured. They taught us to be hard workers and honest, respectable people. From dad- a bit goofy and silly on occasion but always requiring your best . Praise from him was earned. Mom was/is my role model for the good mom,grandma,great-grandma. She is the rock our family clings to, so strong, the caretaker of us all
.
The things that really mattered to us, we got. Horses, musical instruments galore, art supplies. I always knew that they would do whatever it took to help us achieve what we set our minds to. When my dad died I knew I'd lost my greatest champion and my idol. Their influence was such that I always wanted them to be proud of me.

As to my own parenting skills, or lack thereof... my girls are both grown now. They are both ethical , loving decent folk, one the overachiever perfectionist, the other is the exact opposite although she had as much or more potential. I had to be the disciplinarian of the family-my DH was deep into alcohol during those days. Heck, I'm still the disciplinarian, even if no one really listens anymore(other than my granddaughter). But we were silly,played a lot(still do) and still have a lot of fun too.

I tried to give them the raising I'd had but didn't quiet make it and for that I am terribly sorry. A lot of those years are hidden deep somewhere and I honestly don't remember them(wonder what that signifies other than they were tough?) They were well behaved as kids, and a lot of fun. Somewhere I dropped the ball because of the problems my youngest has...
I just try to do better with my granddaughter, who is the love of my life.



I see a lot of my parents in myself, and in what I expect of my own kids. And, even though they are grown women I'm still the MOM!

[Flyingcursor]

These are great. It's nice to read.

My parents were and are pretty cool. We learned to respect our elders and we never doubted our parents love for us.

[Innocent Bystander]

My parents kept a shop. They sold clothes and knitting wool. It was a comparatively big shop for a poor area of Belfast. We lived over the shop, and the shop-assistant ladies acted as semi-official aunties to us children.
My sisters and I were engaged for elocution lessons. We were entered for Verse-Speaking competitions, and came away with a prize now and then.
My sisters got piano lessons. I was just beginning to wonder when my piano-lessons would start, when my parents sold the piano. My elder sister told me that, really, I was well out of it, that the living-room where the piano lived was bitterly cold and her fingers were blue by the end of an hours practice.
And we moved. The trigger for the move was me getting suspected rheumatic fever - I now know that this was nothing more than a complication of German Measles and Flu - apparently the symptoms are similar. But it convinced my parents that the dampness of the house above the shop was something to be tolerated no longer. The streets alongside were Well Street and Spring Street. There was a clue there for those who looked.
When we moved, I became a latch-key kid. The house key was on a string around my neck. Both my sisters were much older than me, and had left school by the time of the move. I was used to come home from school and do my homework in a silent, empty house. It was wonderful, in its way. After homework, I could do as I chose. Mostly this was reading books or watching television.
My parents worked hard to get us an education, and get us away. I had a scholarship to the Grammar School. Aspergers children like myself are usually quiet individuals. Sensory overload is a big part of the condition. But in the grey conditions of Belfast in the sixties, sensory overload was not a big problem, and could easily be avoided.
The troubles flared up while I was at Grammar School. There were soldiers with guns in the streets beside the school, and if we ventured out to browse in the shops, we would be searched, each time. Each street, in fact.
It's not surprising, then, that when I got a University place I resolved to make that my getaway. Gradually my Mother realised my decision, but could not question it. My sisters, too, eventually twigged, and one made the flit herself. The other, more heroic, stayed to look after them.
My parents were sparing, but genuine in their praise. Because I had no "interests" (other than books) I know (now) that this was a concern to them. They had never heard of Aspergers Syndrome. Nor did I until my son was diagnosed. I knew what they wanted, as much as they did. My father once told me that he thought I might become a barrister. But I am not a sharp thinker that the vocation requires. If I had my time again I would have chosen mathematics. My son should do this, if he can, but he is having difficulty with the exams. His M.E. makes it very hard, although he seems to be emerging from it.
My parents were delighted when I borrowed my sister's guitar and were happy to get me one of my own. It's the guitar I still have and play regularly. It's one of the family.
They were good to me. I honour them.

[BillChin]

Thank you all for the responses.

My parents did the best they could. Unfortunately, at times that wasn't very much. I was the youngest of four kids. The good news is that we always had food to eat and for the most part we were allowed to spend our meager allowances on what we wanted. We did have a lot of leeway, though all of us were good kids that stayed out of trouble. The house was cold, physically cold so that I always had a runny nose in the winter, and emotionally cold, so that I was in many ways a sad and dour kid.

I think I was my dad's favorite of the four, and my mom's least favorite. That wasn't so good, because we rarely saw dad, and mom was always around though always busy. I learned later in life that most Chinese parents rarely praise their kids. I interpreted this in insecure ways, and had mental health problems as I grew up, in part due to the cold emotional environment and constant arguing between my parents.

There is that song "Home on the Range," with the line, never is heard a discouraging word. My home was the opposite, all I ever heard were discouraging words. This didn't seem to hurt the older kids, but with my personality it hurt, hurt a lot. Being picked on by the older kids likely didn't help.

My mom says we had to learn to "swim" on our own, talking mostly about school work. By knowing that we were on our own, we all were very good students. I often hear that American teachers think parental involvement is a key to student success. If that is true, I don't understand how we were all good students with zero parental school involvement.

I had neighbors with two younger boys. I spent a lot of time with them. At a wedding, their mom said, she had four sons, her two biologicals, me, and another neighbor boy. I did better in the role of "older" brother than younger. I had many good times with this other family, and the other neighbor boy, much more so than with my own siblings who were always picking on me. The fourth boy, was shunned by his dad, so it was a godsend for him as well.

Like plants, there is no one parental plan for all kids. Some plants need lots of water, lots of sun, some need shade and over watering will kill them. So it is with kids. Perhaps the perceptive parents might be able to figure out what kind of kid they have and adjust accordingly.

Like I said, my parents did the best they could, and given what they had, did a good job. I've made my peace with my parents.

[avanutria]

My parents were great, but most of the time I didn't live with my parents; I lived with other relatives who weren't so great. I don't want to post public details but if anyone has a need to know feel free to PM me and I'll think about it

[Jack]

Both my parents raped me, confined me to the home, starved me physically, starved me spiritually, neglected my basic psychological and physical needs, and tortured me physically (belts, fists, switches, guns, etc) for almost 20 years. My mother did not allow me to attend high school, they both neglected my health to the point where I now live with a chronic incurable immune disease, and my father dealt drugs out of the home and many of his clients also abused me. It’s only been in the past year (I turn 24 this year) that I’ve been able to admit this openly. Calling it for what it is (abuse) allows it to be more easily conquered.

[Flyingcursor]

Innocent Bystander[/]
That's fascinating. As a kid we heard about the troubles in Belfast a lot on the news and to have one of our C&Fer's to have lived in those troubled times makes it more personal.

[dwest]

I was a charter Dr. Spock baby. Father was an extreme physical abuser, walked out in '56. My mother was interested in everything, still is, and she shared that with all of us. But my next oldest brother and sister and I basically raised our younger three siblings. I was head cook, shopper, house keeper, and peacemaker, not that we really needed that. Few kids would pick on any of us at school 'cause we stuck together. The nuns both loved us and were exasperated by us although a few were plain evil. We had few friends because divorce was not common in our community and most parents frowned upon letting their children associate with us. My mother cared deeply for us but for many years she was fighting her own battles, community disapproval, poor finances, education, so she was too tired at the end of each day to be much help around the house. I remember opening letters from the government,"you are living below poverty level" offering help but she just couldn't take it. During the summers we hit the road from the last day of school until two days before start. We travelled, camped, all of NA by car/foot. My mother at 92 is still a member of the ATC. Those summers are what really bonded us together as a family. I think she still has that Spock book somewhere. Anybody want it? I'm more of a Harry F. Harlow fan

[burnsbyrne]

I am the third of seven children who grew up in the 50s. Father was mostly absent and left for good when I was 15. My mother's parenting style could be described as hearding. She got us to where we had to be when we had to be there. Extracurricular activities were pretty much up to us to arrange and fund. Except that my three sisters all took Irish dance classes - I think that was mostly paid for by barter. We didn't get much one-on-one time with Mom, at least the boys didn't. I think the girls got more. When it came time for me to be a father I had to pretty much make it up as I went along. I had no male role model to speak of. But I have to say I didn't do too bad a job. My two sons are married have steady jobs, they're creative and they come over and shovel the snow when it's needed.
Mike

[dwest]

they come over and shovel the snow when it's needed.
Mike

There you go, some people have all the luck!

[missy]

My dad was "older" when I was born - 41. There was 14 years difference in age between my mom and dad.
My dad built our house, and basically didn't treat me any different than if I had been born a boy, if he needed help around the house, I helped. I learned how to do most repair work, and when our house was hit by a tornado when I was 16, I help with almost all of the rebuilding.
My mom worked for the same person for 43 years, including all of my childhood. But she worked "from home" from the time I was born until I was 12. Her boss had given her a typewriter and adding machine, and had books and things dropped off 1 or 2 times a day by people making deliveries for one of his companies. While "working from home" may not seem that strange now, this started in 1958! So while she was "home" she was still working. I would add up booksheets for her for 25 cents a sheet, and I got really good at tearing up W2s with carbon paper and putting cancelled checks in order.

My dad only went to 8th grade, but passed a love of learning and reading and music on to me. My mom passed on cookie baking.

My dad and I would go fishing every Saturday in the summer - but it was more a time to just be together than to fish. My mom and I, as I grew older, developed "conflicting" personalities, and we get along in very small doses. My dad, while quiet, was very proud of my accomplishments. I've yet to hear my mom say I've ever done anything right - and she didn't speak to me for 3 years after my divorce and remarriage ("good" Catholic).

One of my worst times was 1986- 1987. I was pregnant with my first child, who turned out to be that boy that would have gone fishing and hunting and work on things with my dad, just as I did. But my dad died when I was 4 1/2 months pregnant with Nate.

Nate got dad's mechanical ability (and ears!).

Noah, my other son, is scarily like my dad - looks like my dad, has my dad's health, my dad's temperment, and my dad's intelligence and musical ability. Unfortunately, he also got my ex's ADD.

[Dale]

My parents were born in the mid 20's and grew up in the same small town in Arkansas. My father had five brothers and two sisters and my mother had two brothers and three sisters. They endured the Great Depression. Picked cotton among other things. My father broke his leg--really bad break--playing football and was unable to graduate from high school because of it. Shortly after he recovered, he was drafted into the United States Navy and was in the Pacific during WWII. As soon as he was discharged, he married my mother, who had been his girlfriend in high school. For awhile, he drove a logging truck in Northern California--my older brother was born there--and shortly after they went back to Arkansas where I was born in 1956. My mother and brother and his family still live there.

I think my father had pretty dreadful experiences in the war and had a rough time after he came back. This was, of course, before people thought of PTSD. He was not particularly verbal, but he was often playful and affectionate, especially when I was very young. I have no memory of him spanking me, allthough I suppose he occasionally did. My mother was attentive to our needs and affectionate, if occasionally hot tempered. She spanked, but not too much (and not too hard.)

Even though I've spent a huge amount of my professional time thinking about parenting and giving parenting advice, it's hard to answer a question about parenting styles in my own childhood. In a way, it almost seems to me that in that cultural context, there was a really narrow range of parenting styles and none of them had names and nobody even thought about parenting styles. We went outside a lot. Watched TV some. Played games. Got swatted or grounded when we stepped out of line. Dared not get sassy and got dealt with firmly if we did. I'm not particularly nostalgic about it. But, all-in-all, not a bad childhood gig.

Parenting is a lot more complex now. Kids are exposed to all kinds of media, much of which didn't exist a short time ago. In my current job, I'm routinely having to advise parents whose young children have been exposed to hard core ρσяиσפядρђψ, for example, something that would have been incredibly rare not so long ago. I've got my kids raised now and I'm not sure I'd want to do it in the present time, as opposed to the time they were kids (They're 26, 23, 18 ). I'm inclined to think we're moving into a really rough period in American and Western Civ, and it'll be interesting to see what happens to family life.