I’m not sure when I realized that as a child, I was sheltered. I mean, I prided myself in being well-informed, blessed, but not privileged. I watched Good Times (knew I wasn’t ever going to live in the projects), Diff’rent Strokes (couldn’t imagine living within a white family and the transition being THAT smooth) and The Jeffersons (knew when I did get money, I wouldn’t walk like that or try to impress people…I moved up…that would have to be enough). My grandparents watched us while my parents worked. We never wore dirty clothes, wondered where the next meal was coming from or had to go without…well at least that’s what I saw.

I’m sure sacrifices were made, but nobody talked about them except for the general…”You don’t always get what you want.” and “You don’t know what I have to give up to provide for yall kids.” The challenges my parents had were never a badge to be displayed. We were/are I guess….a private family. Yet, the lessons that they learned, mistakes that they made would have been useful to a “gotta know everything” child like myself. I would like to have known how my father felt when he discovered the new TV that my mother had bought and hid downstairs in the basement (we already had working TVs in every room of the house). It would have been useful to know how my mother dealt with my father after he went around the house with a white glove and complained about how filthy the house was (even though it looked like a museum to all of my friends the few times that they were allowed to come in). I would have appreciated a comforting conversation with my mother when my friend Micah committed suicide in high school instead of that ol’ pitiful, sob story about the troubles of today’s youth. I needed it real and I needed to the whole story, so that I can make maybe some different choices or at least understood the decision making process.

Hmmph.

When do we lay in all on the line? or When do we take the safe route?

When is the information that you share with your children just too much information?

I wish my parents would have given me the lowdown on the stress of financial distress or the skinny on the difficulties of communication in a marriage. I wish they would have been more upfront about my father’s medical bills being in excess of $65,000 after the insurance and how they paid that. I mean, survival skills, tips for overcoming the depression of never feeling like you have enough time in the day for the things that really matter. I need that. My daughter has had some challenges working 2 jobs and not being able to buy this digital camera she really wants. The price keeps going up and then she gets frustrated with trying to save every penny, so she buys a slush or sandwich at Panera and next thing you know its $10 gone. I try not to lay out the pitiful economy, the importance of self-discipline and all of that, but I want to share with her these are the mistakes that I’ve made (emotional spending, underestimating expenses, not being realistic in my projections and analysis) and this is how we are paying for it.”Don’t be like me” is what I want to say and then I think is sharing mistakes makes you a bad role model.

Parenting? If only I could find that doggone model…

How did your parents handle personal news and heavy discussions? Were they upfront with you and in your face about drugs, sex, marital communication, finances? or Were you taught that kids will be kids and “you shouldn’t worry your little head about that.”? Share with us your stories about delicate information and how you were either damaged or healed?