Yesterday I gave you the setup of what was going on when I first got back, let’s keep filling you in. Even though I didn’t live in the house I was becoming the man of the house (again), what I didn’t fulfill chore wise, my sister’s boyfrined filled in on. Neither of us were happy about it some of the inane chores she had us doing.
One of these was Christmas decorations. She always thought all of her children loved decorating for Christmas. I stopped enjoying it around ten years old. I had to crawl through the attic and dig out all of the decorations. I had to deal with, well that needs to come done, but not that. Those are the old decorations. Why didn’t she throw them out or sell them I still can not fathom. The “attic” was the crawl space above the garage that you had to use a ladder to get up there.
My eleven year old sister wanted to climb up and help. My mother said it was too dangerous and wouldn’t allow it. My nine year old brother then threw a temper tantrum that he wanted to come up and was really throwing a fit. My mother was going ot allow him to come up. My sister still couldn’t come up because it was too dangerous for her still. I wasn’t going to allow it. I didn’t allow my brother to come up either. If it was too dangerous for his older sister, it was too dangerous for him. My mother pleaded with me to allow him to come up. I said no, if she couldn’t be consistent with her decision, I wasn’t going to support her inconsistencies.
My youngest brother was still throwing a fit but I shrugged it off. My little brother (was not sure about now) the dictionary definition of a spoiled child. He would run wild and do whatever he wanted. My mother would support it and give him whatever he asked for, allowing him to do things that were “too dangerous” for his older sister, and the boy would not take no for an answer.
One time when I was babysitting the boy I sent him to his room for punishment. He wouldn’t stay in the room so I applied a trick I learned when my next in line brother had that room. If you looped a strap around the door handle to the bathroom door handle immediately across the hall you couldn’t get out. This I admit was exasperation mode for me, since I didn’t want to spank a kid that was twenty-one years younger then me. The kid didn’t want to stay in that room and thought no one could force him (since my mother never disciplined him. While I was sitting on the stairs working (right outside the door) he wsa taking apart his window and trying to climb out of the second floor since he felt no one had the right to punish him.
Before you think this is my babysitting norm or I was endangering the child. His only stipulation was that he had to go stay in his room for 15 minutes straight. That obviously was too much for him, so that’s why it came down to locking him in for fifteen minutes.
My mother never wanted to be a mother. She wanted to give the love (in her own wway) but she would always let the youngest child run wild and do whatever they wanted. It just snowballed down to the extreme with my youngest brother. She was in love with being a mother, the same way a little girl is in love with a having a doll. She wanted children around to dress and show off, yet didn’t want to discipline, didn’t want to teach anything of value, and didn’t want to deal with anything bothersome.