Are Parents Worth Being A Greaser Or Hero?

Thus, this situation has affected them more than anyone. Truthfully, there was a moment that I contemplated keeping this from them. Then again, they are my motivation in this life. I have raised them to never shy away from responsibility, to be honest and understanding. So I chose to share my story with them. I wanted them to understand the severe consequences I could have experienced, and because I wanted to set a good example of accountability. Admitting to them that I used such terrible judgement has left one distinct thought pounding in my heart, resonating in my soul and commanding my mind lately. That is, that I never want to feel this way again. I never again want to risk having my children become disappointed in my actions, be embarrassed by their mom or worse, have them question what I have taught them.

I knew at this point that if I didn’t get out my son and I would have been killed. As a result I saved my life, my son’s life, and my husband’s life so he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life in prison. This choice which was not easy, to make and was a very scary decision but turned out to be the right choice. Even though my husband and I no longer communicate my son has a great relationship with his father and his family today.

I can relate to child neglect and inadequate parenting styles. My mother has neglected me since I was four. Never really had a proper mother figure. Her parenting style seemed to be to pop in and out of my life whenever she pleased. She still does it till this day and it honestly hurts horribly when I see her walking in the streets.The worst part is she acts as if she doesn’t care about her kids at all, because the conversation is always only about her.Anyways moral of the story is no matter how bad you want to help someone, it can't be done if they don’t want the help. It’s hard to not be able to help the ones you love the most. Just like in the book Lori tried to help her parents at one point by letting them stay with her, but she realized it was making her life much more stressful, so she had to kick them out. It’s difficult and painful to see your parents or parent living that way, but there's nothing you can do about it. They have to be the ones who want to change and get out of that lifestyle their living. Who knows if they will change you just have to have faith and pray that they do one day change. Hopefully it’s not too late I’m still praying till this day. Remember your children should always become before you let alone your

They let my dad go;They knew he was an illegal immigrant and still let him go. Maybe the officer felt sympathy towards us to let my dad go back. But, I can’t imagine the world without my dad he’s the one who always make sure that I know my value lets me know i’m going somewhere even if I don’t know it yet. If something would’ve happened that night where would I be? Would be another kid making stupid decisions and blame it on my broken family? How would my life be if my dad wasn’t there to see me grow up? I’m truly blessed to be with my

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I knew that I would regret not taking the blame for Tilde and her dad, but imagine how much trouble I would be in! Forget the idea of going to prison for many years, instead I would be rotting corpse, hung in front of many people! Okay so I don’t know what the punishment for taking all the blame of bringing a bunch of illegal immigrants is, but I’m pretty sure it’s something related to Guantanamo Bay. My family stared at the floor for what felt like forever, and then I simply walked back to my room, letting sleep ease my mind.

In that car ride to what would be one of several temporary homes, I resolved to never have hope again. I silently made a vow that I would not allow myself to let anything or anyone engender groundless optimism in me after that day. The years leading to this cynical oath were the hardest I ever underwent, leaving permanent scars (both emotional and physical) I would never outgrow. But the day they took us away was the day my world fell apart, and it was undoubtedly my breaking point. I stayed strong for my younger brothers; I had to take care of them seeing as all the foster parents we lived with were elderly. But all throughout the ordeal with courts and foster families and multiple new schools, I felt smaller and smaller inside. I would occasionally look at the self-harm scars on my left arm and wish with all my might to be back with my father and stepmother, because at least then I would be somewhere familiar. I felt that misery and suicidal thoughts were a fair compromise if it meant I would be in a place I

Early one morning, I was in line at the grocery store, standing behind a woman who had two small children in her cart. She must have had at least 50 jars of baby food. She was desperately looking for her coupons, during which time one of the boys was crying while another one was trying to climb out of the cart. I found myself becoming impatient and thinking to myself this poor woman is overwhelmed and outnumbered. Behind me stood a woman who was about 40-45 years old. Her cart was filled with liquor, and several boxes of tissues. She was disheveled and was wearing sunglasses despite that it was barely 9AM. I thought great I am standing between a woman who is so overwhelmed she cannot find her coupons and an alcoholic. It was not long before the women behind me was speaking to the women in front of me. The comment that remains forever in my memory is the women telling the young mother to enjoy her boys, to cherish each moment, to love and support them no matter what. I turned to look at the women behind me, she had tears running down her face, she looked at me and said very quietly, my son is coming home today. I started to reply when she began to sob. She told me my family is waiting for me at the house, and together we will meet my son. You see my son is only 18 and he was killed in Afghanistan, and today my son is coming back home. I remember taking her hand, and then hugging her as we stood in line. I will always remember this

They wouldn’t tell me, but I think he was dead when the medics got to my house. After that its a blur, no one would tell me anything, they made me sit on the front porch while they took pictures of the house. Then the questioning began, I had to talk to a detective because who knows, the 15 year old might have purposely let her 1 year old brother choke to-death. Was I sure it was the whole egg yoke? yes it was, did I drop him? no I didn’t, what time exactly did it all begin? questions like this over and over again. I don’t blame them for doing their job I just wish I could have been left alone. Finally, after what seemed like hours, my mom called, she was hysterical her baby was dead and I couldn’t help her, I was so helpless and empty, he was my baby too. My mom was so sick when she had him that I got up with him several times every night; I changed his diapers, fed him, dressed him, held him when he cried. He was more my baby, than he was a sibling. I sometimes wonder if I had done this, that, or the other differently, if he would have survived, or maybe it wouldn’t have happened at

If you are attempting a difficult task, like assembling a furniture flatpack with french instructions would you like somebody to yell at you. I certainly hope not, but parents are putting kids in a similar situation on the sporting field every weekend.

On a summer afternoon in July 2009, my husband and I were attending a graduation party for my brother Sebastien who successfully finished High School. During the egg race, Rod received a phone call from his parents that his sister and her three children were in a car accident. At first, we were told they were fine and that they were being taken to Denver Health to be evaluated and that we would get a call later regarding what had happened. That, however, didn’t sit well with me, knowing that Denver Health is a trauma facility and that they were in an accident, I told Rod we needed to go and he agreed. Walking into the hospital was almost like something out of a television show or movie, each girl was in her own room, each with different injuries and with a million

Relationships constructs an intertwining web of our lives. They link us and provide us meaning. They can change us or make us miserable. Our history and our relationships with our parents as a child affects how we see ourselves as an adult. (Lachmann 1) I found that there are many ways our parents have effects on our self-esteem. For me the constant criticism from my family has left me thinking I’m never good enough. As New York clinical psychologist Suzanne Lachmann says “If you were excessively criticized no matter what you did or how hard you tried, it becomes difficult to feel confident and comfortable in your own skin later.” (1). Another thing that affects me is abuse. Being forced to do things I didn’t want to cause trust issues in not

When reading the shadow, the first thought that came to my mind was that this poem seemed pointless and held little or no meaning to it, but when I reexamined the shadow, being more mindful to the details this time, I finally recognized the genius of this piece and my opinion of the shadow drastically changed.but undoubtedly, what made this poem change my perspective to such an extent, was it’s ability to portray our human nature and display them so vividly and unlike any other, I was given a new outlook on our emotions, actions, and desire's as something we have to keep under control, but sometimes we have to let our suppressed emotions manifest us in order to keep things balanced and to let loose some steam and be yourself.

Every parent has a different way to raise their children. Some of them raised there children according to their own experience of how were they raised; others, raise them as they would have been liked to be raised. Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead and Jeannette Walls’ The Glass Castle are two comparable works that the first thing that stood out was the parenting them. Gilead by Marilynne Robinson is a book that has many father and son relationships as well as forgiveness, it’s a letter from a father to a son narrating all the experiences and stories he went through his life. On the other hand, The Glass Castle is a novel that recounts the author’s, Jeannette Walls, childhood and life as she gets older with her parents and siblings. Both novels

While growing up, children get a lot of support from their father and mother. Children learn things from them. Every action that parents do, their children want to do the same. Parents are always careful with their child until they get older and ready to do things by their own. But what about when the child gets older? Are they going to take care of their parents and give the same support and love? Many people will change when they mature. They always want to be on their own and forget about their parents. As people are getting older, they should not forget about their parents.

Although, the government has certain policies when it comes to how parents raise their kids, there have been many instances where in my opinion the government goes overboard. The government should not be able to dictate to parents on how they should be raising their kids.in my opinion, parents should be able to raise their kids however way they want without the government interfering. Parents have different ways of raising their children and they should be allowed to do so however they want to do it. There have been cases where neighbors have called the cops because they see a child walking by themselves on the street or walking to school by themselves. Some kids get taken away from their parents because the child walking alone to school might seem like they are being neglected. The government should allow parents to raise their kids however way they want to.