Personal Narrative: Unreliable Parenting

A long time ago, in about 2004, I was born to two drug and alcohol addicts. We lived in Plano, Texas, in a disgusting apartment. We had cat and dog feces everywhere, and overall it wasn’t the best environment to raise a child in. But when I was about four and a half, my mother put me up for adoption without telling me. I ended up being adopted by my aunt and uncle, but although being four and a half, I will always remember that day vividly, because that was the first day I had experienced real love.

Since I was a kid, I had a ton of responsibilities, cleaning up after myself, doing chores, managing to not fight with my brother, although we fought all day everyday, but you know, it happens. One thing that I didn't know wasn't normal was parenting your parent. I go to school do all my class work and during recess and lunch I listened to all the other kids talk about going to the park after school and eating dinner together with their parents. When I got home from school, I had to do my homework and then take care of my mother. Bring her things she needed such as food, water, help her with many other simple everyday activities. Of course I wasn't the only one who was her “little helper” as she put it, my dad helped her and my older brother by two years,

Growing up in a household full of girls with a single mother, I learned how to be strong and independent. My mother was never really the type of mother to be affectionate, she had more of a tough love point of view. I was always expected to get the best grades I could possibly have along with being focused and determined to go to college which most of my family did not do. My mother taught me how to always be respectful and have good manners especially when it came to other adults. From the age of 5, I was doing chores in the house, and setting goals for my future.

I’m BACK! I was in school studying phlebotomy for the last month and a half so now I’m studying for the state test and hoping to keep up with my blog again! Sorry about that, I hope you missed me like I missed you.

My interviewee is a second generation immigrant with one parent who was born in El Salvador and the other who has Mexican roots but was born in the United States. For the purposes of confidentiality my interviewee will be addressed as Ana from here on out. In this interview paper I will discuss the experiences that Ana faced growing up in a tri-racial household. I will also evaluate her experiences regarding assimilation to the lectures and reading assigned through out this course.

I was an only child for six years. I basked in the glory of my parents’ attention. One day my mother interrupted my enthralling game of Polly Pocket’s to inform me that we were going to adopt a baby. I had no idea what that meant, but boasted about it on the playground anyway. For a while after this news, our lives were pretty uneventful; a baby didn’t suddenly appear in our house, and I wasn’t a big sister. This changed suddenly, my mother received a call from an adoption agency that informed her of a soon-to-be mother who thought we were the perfect fit. My parents were elated, yet frantic; they had received the news nine days before the child’s due date and hadn’t begun the required paperwork yet. This late notice was followed by even later nights. I

I just had a telephone conference with CH mother/Jessica Cahill. Parent inform his physician, Dr. Cardino, MD (GI). Starting on Monday, student will have to take medication before every meal and snack. (5 times a day) The medication is Sucride? Parent was not sure of the correct spelling. Parent was informed that we could administer the medication at school with her permission and physician’s order. Parent will come in on Monday to bring in the medication, doctor’s order and sign consent. There are no diest restrictions per mom, except that he is lactose intolerance and has “short Gut”. Parent is also taking student to a neurologist during the summer for an evaluation ton R/O ADHD, anxiety and depression. Informed parent to share the information

The conflict Catherine has with her parents over the time and energy that is left over for her is a valid issue for her parents. The biggest worry for parents are the bills. Household finances are an issue children never consider. Catherine and David's dad still has to work constantly to keep food on the table, and make sure all the family's needs are met.Catherine and David's mother has to work from home part time so they can also manage financial needs,while most of the day she is taking care of David. "Dad works all the extra hours he can, even on Saturdays, so mom can afford to work part time at home. She used to have an office downtown, but David got kicked out of daycare, so now she runs her tax preparation business from our spare bedroom. (35)

I was a responsible seven year old, I would say, considering my mother trusted me enough to leave me in charge of my sister as a toddler when I was still a child. This was not the first time I was in charge of my sister for a short amount of time, so nobody thought anything of it. In these twenty minutes, things took a turn for the worse when I made a simple but tragic mistake; I went to the bathroom for around two minutes, at the most. I heard Mia screaming, and so my sisterly, protective instincts kicked in.

I fell asleep just in the middle of the hallway hoping that all of this was just a dream. I woke up feeling like i had been drinking all last night. I hated myself for killing an innocent cat. I went outside because i felt like i had to because i was so disgusted. I threw up all my insides so i went back inside to ask for treats to possibly to feel better about myself and this whole situation. I went over to the main room to beg to fill my empty stomach. The mom got up and fed me a decent amount of treats. This made me feel great for the time being totally forgetting about the cat and the whole fight. Once i ate them all i felt that sadness and sickness that was lurking in me still. I figure that the treats were a temporary cure for the disease

I hopped out of our camper trailer with sheer excitement and in a hurried voice shouted to my parents that I was going to try out my new scooter. My mom yelled back from across the campsite that I was not going anywhere without my helmet. Following my unsuccessful attempt at protesting her advice, she proceeded to inform me that if I did not put the helmet on she would bring the scooter back to the store where she had bought it. I could not let my mother repossess the scooter that I just received, so I scurried off to find my helmet.

the abuse I endured from my parents. I didn’t do too well in school either, I was 8-years old and had no clue what the alphabet was or how to count to 10, I even forgot how to spell my name. Once in a while they would help me with my work, but never too often and always made fun of me. In time, the problem seemed to escalate causing me troubles in school with other students and faculty which forced me being expelled from school. From that point on, there was a lot of tension building at home because of my disorder causing chaos, fighting, arguing with the family all day, everyday. One afternoon after a walk, I came back to realize that almost everything in my room was boxed up. I asked what was going on but all they did was give me

At three years old most toddlers have nothing to worry about, but for me – I had some big shoes to fill, so big that I struggle today to amount to all that is expected of me. Most children in my town are raised with the typical two parent figures, but for me all I have is my mother. My dad took it upon himself to leave her with the difficult task of raising three kids under five years old on her own. Although some may look at this as a sad, dysfunctional childhood, I wouldn't change it even if I had the choice to, and here are my reasons why:

I am a mathematical anomaly. If you were to look at my life through statistical problems laid one after the other you would see an increasing number of disbelief. When viewed this way my very existence seems impossible. I was born with pneumonia which alone is not actually too big a deal for a newborn. Scary to be sure but actually about three in ten die from this, even less if you are born in a hospital as I was, but that's not all. I also was suffering from a rare disease called Langerhans cell histiocytosis. At the time my diagnosis was about a one in ten but even then, my parents were told that I wouldn't live past the age of eight. They didn't give up there though, they took the news and said “no we will not accept this for our child,”

I'm not the most privileged being on earth but I am a most compassionate one. My foster mother hailed from Mississippi. We were different in many ways, but she put it all aside to make sure that I was cared for. I decided to take up football my freshman year because I had begun taking a liking to it. I always had a competitive spirit and longed to put it to the test. My foster mother was extremely supportive and was glad that I was doing something worthwhile. I would exhibit the same compassion she had for me a little while later. My sophomore year, I had a friend who struggled with OCD. He didn't acquaint himself with many, yet I was his trustworthy and loyal friend. He was stressed out and decided that he was going to take a break from sports.