“Mama, look at this book. It’s called ‘Tell me your story.’ We need to get it,” Rosie held the journal high.
“Um, no. We don’t,” I said. ‘”Let’s just buy the book for your friend and get outta here.”
“Yes, we do,” she squealed as she flipped through the pages. “This will let me know everything about you.”
She then proceeded to work me over for another ten minutes before I caved and paid for the darn book. A week later it made it into the back of my car so I could flip through it at a tennis match and decide what to do. The journal presented me with a dilemma. How much do I actually want to tell my child? Do I really want to tell her my story?
The initial answer was no. I really didn’t want to tell her about my childhood because it wasn’t that happy (and a lot of it I don’t remember). I had serious asthma and the drugs that they used over 30 years ago weren’t like the ones of today. They made me jittery and messed with my emotions. I was the kid that didn’t really get along with the others. And, the one that had a hard time paying attention in class. Now, as an adult I’m convinced it was the meds, but back then I was just labeled as a difficult kid.
So, when I opened the book and it asked about my favorite childhood memory. I couldn’t really come up with one. That’s sad. And, it’s something that I really don’t want to talk about with Rosie. I’ve used much of my childhood as life lessons (take bullying for example), but I didn’t know if I wanted to share anything else. I didn’t really know if she needed to know more.
Then there was the fact that my parents fought. A lot. Once I got into middle school I don’t remember much about their relationship but the fighting. Rosie knows that her Nana and Papa had an unhappy marriage (they divorced when I was 18), but how much did she really need to know? That was a big question.
And, then there were all kinds of little things like who was my first love (obviously, it wasn’t the K-Man. We didn’t meet until my mid-twenties) that got me stuck. My first love was a wonderful guy (who dumped me because he “felt that I needed a high school experience” when he graduated). My second love was a complete asshole who wound up being abusive and unbeknownst to me for over a year had a coke problem (he wound up getting kicked out of college for dealing drugs out of his frat house). My third love was worse. Did Rosie really need to know about my poor romantic choices? Not yet.
How much do our kids really need to know about our pasts? I turned to mine for the answer.
I grew up in a home where there weren’t a lot of secrets. And, there was stuff that I knew as a kid that I wish I didn’t. I have a very open mother (whom I love dearly), but she didn’t need to tell me some of the things that she did (and to respect her privacy, I won’t say them here). It’s possible sometimes to share too much. And, I don’t want to do that with Rosie.
So, the book has been in may car for a couple of weeks. Sometimes I hear it weeping for attention. Someday, I will pick it up and I will tell Rosie my story. But for now, she only gets some highlights. And, I think that’s fair.
How much about your past do you share with your children? How much is too much?
Your mom and my mom are too similar. Maybe because they are sisters and I use to confuse the two of them when I was a child. I knew way more about my mom than I ever thought that I would as a child. Some more traumatizing than others. Yet I am great full that my mother was as open as she is now as well as then. We have had a closer bond I would think because of it. Now we aren’t just mother and daughter that I am in my thirties, we are friends. Some things can be held back but knowing that she made mistakes too made me feel better as a teen.
I have no problem telling Rosie about some of my mistakes so she won’t make the same ones. But you have to have a filter when it comes to your kids and share age-appropriate information. You will understand when you have children of your own. I’m glad that you and your mom are such great friends!
An interesting and challenging situation for sure, even for people with pretty typical childhoods. Here’s what I think: even though I know that you would willingly give your child everything you have if you felt she needed it, there are some things that are yours and yours alone – in this case, information. A parent doesn’t necessarily owe it to her child to come clean with her about everything; in fact, in certain cases it’s a form of protection for the child (and oneself) NOT to share some information. It’s not lying by omission; it’s not withholding – it’s privacy; it’s discretion. And, like Rafiki tells Simba in the Lion King movie: “It doesn’t matter; it’s in the past.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykbx-yzFgBo
I agree and I always like your perspective and wisdom (and the fact that you quote Disney movies).
I thought of one more thing I meant to say about this subject: I remember reading a Miss Manners column years ago in which someone asked how best to respond when asked a question like, “How much money do you make?” Miss Manners, in her infinite wisdom, advised that whenever one is asked something that one considers to be “out of bounds,” one should respond “with a pleasant-enough smile on one’s face by saying, “Why do you ask?” It gets the point across firmly but politely. That same response can be used when our children ask for information that we feel is, well, none of their business. With a pleasant enough smile on our faces, of course.
You might consider creating your own “About Me” book that tells your story the way you want to tell it. Type up your own list of questions and answers as you think of them (much easier than hand writing all your answers in a book). Add in some photos and some basic genealogy of your family. Have it printed and bound if you want (maybe through Shutterfly?). My grandmother made me one of these books about her life years ago, and I can’t even express how much I treasure it! It’s wonderful—and mature—that she’s asking you for a book like this. Oh, and I think your “first love” story doesn’t sound too scandalous—it sounds pretty typical and appropriate, if you choose to include it.
That’s a wonderful idea. Thanks for sharing!
My mom didn’t have a great childhood. We learned about it through the years when the situation warranted her telling us a story. As we grew up and could see her family for what they were and are, we were able to fill in some blanks on our own. Kids see and figure out a lot of things on their own that they don’t let us know about. When I was in my 30s, she wrote a lot of it down and shared with my sisters and me. There are still things we don’t know, but that’s OK. It’s her story – just like it is your story – to tell when and if she chooses to do so. I think a lot of kids today know too much too soon. The world has lost some sense of discretion – everything is just out there and parents are left to explain a lot to kids that maybe they aren’t ready to hear. You will know when the time is right and what to share.