Only-Child Syndrome

Gimmie a break ....

I always like to see how people ended up at my blog and man there have been lots of Google searches about only children, and only child syndrome. Then you run into articles that quote things like only children are lavished with attention, undisciplined, and plain spoiled which right now I’d like to call BS on.

Am I spoiled? Yes, but not because of the fact I am an only child more so than I was an over achiever who worked hard in school, worked hard at any job I had, and overall am a pleaser. I was always up to more good than I was bad and I was rewarded. 

Does that mean I got everything I wanted?  NO! We were not a rich family growing up and the things I was spoiled about were more like food, and books, etc. There were no computers, iphones, and Nintendo DS. When I look at my friends with more than one child and see the things they are given because the neighbor next door has one I just laugh. I was spoiled but it wasn’t material.

Was there discipline? Of course and lots of it. If you were to ever meet my mom you’d know to this day she still has no issue smacking my hand and telling me no. I grew up in the years that CPS didn’t come to your house for spanking your children and there was the one summer that I stole her cigarettes and I spent the remainder of the summer in my room, no TV or radio. Still to this day my mother remembers things I did and when I got caught stealing (she caught me before I got out the store with it) I am the one who wrote the letter exiling myself from the family. She showed me that letter I wrote after that addressed to her full name, and signed by her ex daughter. She didn’t even have to tell me how much trouble I was in because I knew right from wrong and I knew exactly what I did wrong.

Hell one time I let the F-word slip when I was young, and I’m sure to this day my folks chuckled about it but I cried all the way home scared of what was to come. I punished myself way better than my parents ever did and in a lot of cases they let me do just that. It would be years before I figured out they did this because I came up with stronger punishments than they would have. 

I was the one most hard on myself and still am. When I feel entitled to something it’s because I’ve worked hard to get it not because my folks gave it to me. Not because I should just get it because I’m ME, and ME is the most important.

If you are dealing with an only child now who gets it all you can bet there are just as many middle children running around with the same gadgets. The same lax parent attitude, and birth right has nothing to do with it. It’s just a sign of the times, and a change in parenting. So the next time you Goggle only-child syndrome because they are out of control, take a look at yourself. Parenting makes all the difference and if you want to make sure you raise a humble child, then teach them to be just that. At least teach them that if they are going to walk around head high and full of entitlement that they learned to walk around with that kind of attitude all on their own and not because you’ve just bought them all the newest toys or best clothes. There is nothing wrong for celebrating your child’s accomplishment but keep it in check and don’t buy into all only children are one in the same because we are examples of our parents. Ask mine, she’ll tell you that every time. 

The only child comes home …

In 2009 I lost a job that in the end I hated so it wasn’t really a loss. No instead it was the loss of a paycheck, but in the end I know I’d still be there miserable had it not happened. I didn’t exactly go out on good terms as a certain finger got me into some hot water but truth be told they were looking for any reason considering me and MEGABITCH were never going to get a long and the company was never going to become company focused. 

 So what did that mean for the only child?? I went home. *sigh* This was my worse nightmare especially at my age but sometimes in this company you have to suck up your pride and do what you have to do, and coming home was just that. 

 The thing that surprises me most is that it hasn’t been horrible and this morning reminds me of why sometimes being here allows me and my mother to heal and reconnect. Some of my most favorite moments are when we lay in her bed, coffee in hand and just talk about all those things that I’ve been sheltered from for so long. She ALMOST treats me like an adult. 

 I don’t plan on being here much longer as I’ve been fortunate enough to find a job in what is considered a short period of time. (2 months) I have to say I will miss being here, but not enough that I’ll be here for the long term. Thank you Uncle Sam and the wonderful tax return that will allow me to catch myself up and get out back in the real world, but also thank you unemployment that I never got for making sure that I stayed so damn broke that life felt impossible but thank you to the wonderful friends, boyfriend (smitten) and again to my parents …

2010 is my year;  I can just feel it. 

/end mushy posts sometime this week I’ll get into the nitty gritty of making fun of myself because as nice as being here is for now. I still fight tooth and nail to GET MY WAY …. 

My two cents ...

I feel bad when people Google “only child syndrome” and end up here of all places. Not because I think my blog is bad, but because I don’t have any answers in regards to what you do with an only child. This blog was started because I have some of the classic symptoms of what an only child is, but as with the first post of the blog I don’t think I am deficient. Today I was linked by This Blog and his reply to me was funny but it made me take a minute to think about what I have to say about only children as a whole. I will preface all of this as I am no expert, and can only use my own life and other only children I know as a litmus test of what the rest of the world of only children might be like. 

So, if I had any advice to give what would I say? How about quit stressing about it, and raise a child that is respectful, polite and don’t give your only child everything they ever wanted because I promise you someday it will come back to haunt you.

What might be most amusing is that I date a man who has a 12 year old only child. I give him grief about the fact that I can almost pinpoint some of her every moves. There has been many times in which I have said “told you so”. One of our earlier conversations as we decided to become serious was would he ever be open to adoption. The reason I asked was because in a very early conversation he told me that him and his ex-wife only had one child so they could give the child everything they wanted. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that as long as you really don’t give your child everything they want. I stay away from anything that might be considered parenting advice because I’m not a parent, nor am I her parent. That doesn’t mean that I don’t on the other hand tease him of what is to come. The other thing about his 12 year old is very honestly I am scared to death to meet her. I know that might sound funny, but if she was 6 it wouldn’t matter but I remember myself at 12. I remember my parents being divorced, and I especially remember how awful I acted and although I have no reason to believe that would be the case here; it doesn’t mean that it hasn’t crossed my mind.

I can tell you that I never, ever wanted siblings. It’s much in the way that I don’t want to have a paternal child. It just never hit me as something that was missing. If I have to be honest when BMOC came into my life as an adult I had a very hard time adjusting to him and the attention my mom gave him. Now some of that has to do with the fact that my mother didn’t do a lot of those things for me because she wasn’t around, but some of it was also because she had always just been my mom once we were back on track. BMOC has never lived with my mom, but I will say that I was JEALOUS of him for quite some time. It wasn’t until him and I formed our own relationship that I moved past it, and then pushed for my parents to as involved in his life as they could because a lot of my jealousy was based on things that I felt I didn’t get. So, yes I do have a sibling but the age difference and the fact we have never lived together did nothing to improve my only child ways.

The moral of my story is that if you are an only child, there is nothing wrong with you. You can find love and be happy no matter what. Take time to be appreciative of the things you have and the people in your life. It has taken me 30 years to find someone who loves me despite some of my horrible habits. I say if it can happen for me, it can happen for anyone.

If you are a parent of an only child I will REPEAT raise them to be the best they can be just as you would do with any child no matter what the number. You really are the driving force and can either improve your only child or hinder them. Parenting is key to all children, but don't bitch 30 years later when your only child still thinks their birthday is a week long event. I can tell you that my parents have just come to accept it.

If you are looking to date an only child, good luck. I won’t even begin to lie about how that in itself is an art and it takes someone who is really not too worried about sharing themselves while waiting patiently for the only child to start to share as well. However if you stick around to when they get to the sharing you’ve made it to the good part, because I refuse to believe that all only children are incapable of loving anyone but themselves.

 

I'm THANKFUL for :

This year I can say I am simply thankful for everything. I whine, I complain, and life is never ever what I want it to be, but at the end of the day I have everything to be thankful for.

The friends I have made, and become closer with in the past year. I am not sure that it gets said enough but I do have some amazing friends. The past year there hasn’t be a challenge in my life that I haven’t been able to turn to them for guidance and support.

Turning 30. This year I got an amazing three day production of birthday festivities each one special in their own way. Another reason to admit just how lucky I am.

My family. I may not say it enough but I am extremely thankful for my family paternal and otherwise.

The job that I hate and love all at the same time.

My relationship with Smitten. It’s been an interesting, trying and challenging past few months but all in the ways that that help you grow as a person. I am thankful that we have taken the time to work through the problems one by one, and continue to work through the tough spots and enjoy the really good.

Lastly I am thankful for this video, because GOD that was when MTV and the Music Awards hadn’t totally jumped the shark.

The Eagles: Sure do clean up nice ....

The Eagles were simply a childhood staple and tonight as I saw them for the first time I noticed all the others seeing them for the first time as well. There were three boy in front of me, one couldn’t have been any older than 12. I will now be able tell someone long from now that YES! I saw the Eagles live. Now my mothers first time compared to my first time to see them aren’t even in the same category; I can however say I saw them for the first time with her. Seeing this one song in particular spun everything full circle.

ACDC is in January; maybe I’ll make it to that show as well and I can bring my dad full circle as well.

The Greatness that is BMOC …

Anyone who may recall what I was like when the then 10 yr old sniveling brat entered my life will tell you I WAS NOT HAPPY!  Now, from a rational point of view what the hell at 23 did it really matter that I was gaining a step sibling? Honestly, not a damn thing. That didn’t stop me at times letting my mother know that I was on to her. I just KNEW she loved him more than me. What is worse is that I actually felt at times that she loved him more than me; her OWN daughter. *shudder* I have a flair for the dramatics there is no doubt about it.

Looking back it is easy to see what a fucking nightmare I must have been to deal with. Of course he knows none of this, and instead only knows the good that came from him coming into my life.  Not even today does he know what he did for me at that point in my life, how in some ways he saved me from myself. My family knows, his family knows, and I hope there never comes a point where he will need to know, but writing about it might put into perspective exactly how important that he is to me and my sanity.

When BMOC and I started building a relationship I never expected him to be as cool as he was. He was so much like me, except a boy of course. He played sports, watched sports, loved to get dirty. Everything I was at his age, and on a 10 year old level we had a connection. The thing that I got to bring to the table was support. I was at every game I could be, and made time in the middle of the week, or weekends to pick him up and go do silly things. Movies, lunch, anything that got him out of the house and got us alone with one another. At times he had to be reminded that at the end of the day I was not his friend so to speak, and yes I was a grown up no matter how often I didn’t show it. There were times when that lesson was harder to teach, but there was no denying that I lived for being a part of his life. Literally.

To say that BMOC saved me is an understatement. At the time we were building our relationship, my own personal relationship was going to hell. My ex who would be my ex more than once in my life had already began his long battle of beating me down to the point that I beat myself down without prompting. When I was at home I was only a shell of myself, and very rarely had a positive spin on life as a whole. I was doing nothing more than walking through the motions. It was at this time I very seriously thought about walking away from it all if you will. I’ll never forget making the call to my mother and laying it out and how fast her and my step father came running. The packed me up, what few belongings I had and took me home. I was back in counseling the next day, and every night my step father would come and check on me. Something I did not know until over a year later, how he looked over me to make sure that I was ok. In the end however it wasn’t being brought home that made the thoughts stop, it wasn’t the love of my mother or my step father that made me feel better about my life. At the end of the day it was something that BMOC’s uncle said to me that put things into perspective.

“I don’t know what we would have told BMOC about you, had you done something to truly hurt yourself.” “He loves you, and talks about you non-stop and all the time that you guys spend together.” “There is no way at 10 he would be able to process what you would have decided to do, and instead we would have lied to him about your whereabouts.” “Next time you feel that low, if it’s not your mother or father or even you step-father that makes you stop to think; think about him.”

Those words are exactly what I needed to hear, at exactly the time I needed to hear them. No matter how selfish I could be, and with what little regard to my family. When it came to BMOC I couldn’t hurt him in that way. Probably because no matter if he understood it yet, or if he will ever understand it I knew where he was in his life, and I was living proof of where he could end up without the support of loved ones. I had to make sure that I remained part of that support.

All of that is what drives me to our relationship as it is today. I can’t even begin to describe how proud I am of him. Last year he was successful as a freshman with sports, girls, etc but this year as he starts his sophomore year he is leaps and bounds ahead. Not only will he be playing Varsity Football, which come on FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS people! He is also holding down a 3.6 GPA, has remained grounded as much as I would expect anyone at his age to be, and at his level of accomplishment, but he has also become grateful for what he has, and what he is given.

This weekend as I took part of my Sunday to run him to the mall for school clothes shopping he wasn’t the whiney I want kid that I had dealt with before. Instead he was the grown up, this is what I need, how much I have to spend, and thank you kid that he’s grown into. He was grateful for the stuff that I personally bought him, something I would not have done had he thrown a fit over some label this or that, but he was also reasonable in his requests. He is becoming a man, and it’s easy to see that but at the same time it’s funny to still see the little boy in him.

The other thing that amazes me is how much our personal relationship has grown. He tells me things; things I know he would never tell someone he didn’t trust. It feels like an “us” against them kind of thing. The them being our parents of course, and I have held that confidence on more than one occasion. My theory is, if he’s not hurting someone, or himself then I am not going to pull the grown up judgmental card, and instead trust he’s smart enough to make the right choices.  The choices that I know he is capable of making because regardless if he’s on varsity this or that, or girl a or b likes him; he is a kind, smart, funny, and lovable person. He is a leader, and therefore someone others look up to, someone that at times even I look up to.

 

"Obsessed" Going for the Gold!

I can’t even begin to explain just how obsessed I am with the Olympics. It can’t be healthy the number of hours that I have chosen to lose over watching Phelps make history, or the US Gymnastics end with split results. Every evening as soon as I walk in the door straight to NBC I go, and in the morning I find whatever channel and watch no matter what it is. Throw in the fact that every TV in my office is turned to the Olympics, and well it could be overload pretty easily. The twist however goes a deeper than my love of anything athletic, and instead stems from the fact that as a child I spent most of my younger years grounded to my room with no TV, radio, and the strict rule of no napping. My parents were evil I tell you.

The Olympics though are as dear to my heart as the sixth grade teacher who assigned us the task of actually having to watch so many hours of the Olympics and log it. By sheer luck this fell during one of those, stay in your room unless you need the restroom times, and my TV which was old school and still on wheels was placed in a closet on the other side of the house. I honestly couldn’t believe my luck and remember running home that faithful day to show my mom.

“LOOK!”

“I have to watch TV.”

“It’s for SCHOOL, school I tell you.”

That evening my TV was rolled back into my room, and the endless hours of the Winter Games began. I did not just watch whatever the required number of hours; I went for all the extra credit I could get. This one time of over achieving had nothing to do with being the best in my class, but instead everything to do with being able to watch TV.  To be very honest I would have watched ANYTHING as long as the “idiot box”, as my mother called it was on and providing some sort of entertainment.

I am not sure that grounding is actually cruel and unusual punishment but at the time it was a fate worse than death. Looking back it probably did more good than harm. I mean when given the choice between corporal punishment and being grounded I begged my parents to beat me. Which is most likely why the grounding started in the first place, I think I was a little too eager at the thought of getting my punishment over with quick, and painful, if it meant outside and friends were in my future.

Ever since the homework project I have been a faithful watcher of the Olympics. I figure it’s the least I can do in honor of the athletes who played, and the teacher who handed out the assignment. As far as my mother is concerned, she’d still send me to my room if given the change.

 

Friday Bullet Style ....

Today is a BIG day! I didn’t expect for it to start at 4 am, but it’s big none the less. It’s also a HUGE weekend,. So, what makes it such? Ima kick it bullet style since I am not yet awake:

• Today my two week notice becomes final. I gave it to them on Monday but I was asked to keep it as hush hush while I waited on a counter offer. They did indeed counter and I feel nothing more than insulted. Today the rest of the company figures out that I'm on my way out.
  
  
• It's fitting that today is the company pot luck which means that I'll be making my infamous dump cake. That means lunch will be OMG sweetness.
  
• In just an hour I'll be packing for a long weekend with Smitten that doesn't involve a plane or a hotel room. Space will be shared, and it will a true test of comfort.
  
• Family will be met this weekend. It was kind of an accident, but none the less thanks to my dads screw up family will be met. I have decided to not tell my mother since she spent yesterday telling me about which job I should take and how she could see me EVERY day! She's not going to be happy that dad peep'd Smitten first.
  
• It's Friday and another week of Angle comes to an end. Yes, Angel the vampire show. I am now ADDICTED and get up early, not this early mind you but I got in full two house none the less. I do fully understand this does not make me cool, even a little bit.

I am sure there are other things that will happening that might be blog worthy, although this whole entry could be considered a waste of space. Please cut me some slack though, the coffee hasn't hit my veins yet.

Happy Birthday Mom

Dear Mom,

Today you turn 50 and I would never know it except for the fact that I turn 30 in just four months. I am glad that it still makes you smile that I call to sing Happy Birthday at 6 am. It makes me smile that you are smart enough to turn off the ringer, because you don’t want to be awake at six am on your birthday. Even when it's me singing. It makes me feel special that you still say that you don’t really feel your age until my birthday hits.

It’s amazing that we are where we are now in our relationship. That through all the tough times, and there were plenty. That I can now admit that all those years ago when you were handing out advice, you were indeed correct. THERE I SAID IT .. You were RIGHT! I should have listened more, and talked less, but we both know that my path wouldn’t be where it is now.

You are truly my best friend, and I’m not just saying that because it’s the “pc” answer. I look around and look at the relationships that others have with their own mothers and think how lucky I am. I know that I can call you in times of tears, fears, and laughter. That you allow me to start a conversation with “I know I am probably being irrational” and you will listen anyway. I also love the fact you still have no problem on hanging up on me when I take it to far. Of course in the heat of the moment it might not be as nice.

           
I hope today that you know more than any other day how much I love you, and how much you mean to me. I hope today you know that turning 50 isn’t about getting older, but getting better. I hope that you know that when I turn 30 we can whine about being old together.

I love you.

Communication is whose key?

One of the biggest parts of being an only child is that you aren’t around other children all that often. I come from a pretty large family, but except for holidays I don’t remember being around them often when I was younger. This means that I spent A LOT of time being around adults, and from what I’m told communicated as a small adult as soon as I could string sentences. I have heard the same exact comments made by friends who are only children or their families as well. I also remember playing a lot by myself, and talking to the mirror in whatever fun filled adventure my imagination conjured up.

Every job that I have ever had deals with being able to communicate. I’ve worked the drive thru at Taco Bell, waiting tables, and lord knows that being a technical phone monkey was all about communication.

“Yes, right click on the BIG BLUE E”

Even today my job is all about communication, and I deal with difficult people every day. Working in my business there are a lot of old timers who remember how business was done before I could walk. I have worked hard to be able to relay in a professional way that it’s not twenty years before, and business does not work the same way.

So, how did I get here? I am easily someone with a natural gift of gab, and a pretty open mind, and not afraid to open my mouth. How did I end up not being able to communicate in some of the most basic of ways? I have a hard time in saying how I feel deep down inside. It’s easy for me to give someone my opinion, or give advice to others. The really hard part is having my insecurities come out of my mouth. I am a walking billboard for my faults, at least the ones that are very visible. The ones that I know that it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to pick up on. I have no problem giving up that information, but don’t ask me how I feel deep down. I have such a hard time truly opening up, being vulnerable, and making myself a target. As long as I continue to hold those walls I am not really sure how I’ll move forward.

They say that alcohol is truth serum, and there is no difference in my case. Get me drunk and I’ll spill my guts, but only because the next day I won’t know I did it. Sad, pathetic? Of course. Unhealthy? Oh hell yeah. The way I work, for now at least...

Yes.