nt, you accept from the start that it is all your fault. Every last inhibition, weakness and thing that goes wrong in your child’s life is down to you — however old they are. If they get bullied, bully, pick the wrong course at university or marry the wrong girl, it is all because you did it wrong. As a parent — deep-down, you know you suck. You know it is not the kid’s fault (however old the kid is) — you made a hash of it.

You drank a glass of wine when you were pregnant which is why your nine-year-old has ADHD. You had a caesarian which is why he has “trust issues” with women. You threw him out of the  house when he was 21, papered over the steam-trains to turn his bedroom into your craft room and he never got over it. You did not throw him out of the house and he is still there at 28 and counting. You smacked him; he grew up to have a problem with authority figures and cannot hold down a job. You did not smack him; he grew up to be a bastard. You let him have a small watered down glass of wine with Sunday dinner and he became an alcoholic at college. You did not let him touch alcohol at home and he became an alcoholic at college.

You said he should have some fun while he was still young and he went travelling in the Congo and got murdered for his wristwatch. You said he should get a job straight after college, he ignored you, grew a beard and is still travelling eight years later. You made him write thank you letters for gifts he did not want, and he is an ungrateful wretch who has never thanked you for ruining your figure and eating up your life. You never made him write thank you letters for anything or to anyone, and now his children do not write thank you letters however much cash you put in with the card. You feel it is your fault whether they are a killer or a victim. If you taught them to avoid strangers or to reach out to strangers who then betray them. As a mother or a father you accept the guilt, responsibility and shame and live with these things.

I  have wondered watching Sarah Palin if she blames herself for Bristol’s teenage pregnancy. I am willing to bet most hockey moms would. Palin is an amazing role model for a daughter — whether you agree with her politics or not — she is a mother to five children and could end up President. Even so, if she didn’t have some heartwrenching “What did I do wrong?” conversations with the First Dude over Bristol’s predicament, I would eat my moose burger.

Stupidity, misadventure, tragedy can scoop up and swallow down a child in a blink and you know what? It is not necessarily your fault. Nice kids can grow up and do bad or idiotic things however hard their parents tried to bring them up to know the difference between right and wrong. The problem is too many parents blame themselves for every damn fool thing their children do. They say children never forgive their parents. Not true. Parents do not  forgive themselves. Being a mother is misery. Years of fear your children get hurt one way or another, years of disappointment their lives aren’t exactly the way they thought they would be. Worst of all, that conviction rolling and crashing around inside that if you had done things differently, it did not have to be this way. You know as you clutch your coffee in a worn, chipped mug that boasts you are the “World’s Best Mom” or the “Number 1 Dad” that you could have done it so much better. You know that your innocent children are paying the price with their health, sanity or happiness for your own deep and terrible failings as a mother or a father. When bad things happen, it is natural enough to grope around in the darkness for someone or something to blame. The itinerant loner who took advantage? A bad crowd?  God? But deep down you are not telling me that a parent does not blame themselves for  whatever fate throws at her beloved child and however that child turns out. Suck it up — it’s your fault. You should have done something, been there, stood in front of the speeding bullet and caught it in your hand. 

Surely though if parenting is about anything at all, it is about teaching your children to be responsible for their own decisions and actions. You wouldn’t claim credit for a book that is not your own or a picture you didn’t paint, so why feel the necessity to take on your children’s screw-ups or bad luck? Let them own that really big mistake. Don’t crowd them out of the spotlight when the jeering starts. There is enough research out there that indicates “helicopter” parents hovering mercilessly over their children from kindergarten and into the jobs market are not doing anyone any favours. In the same way, insisting that every bad thing that happens is “all my fault” is just one more way a parent lays claim to her child’s soul. Sometimes you have to step away and leave them to it.  

©2008 Judith O’Reilly

Author Bio

Judith O’Reilly was the education correspondent for The Sunday Times of London, where she also reported on politics and news, and worked undercover on education, social, and criminal justice investigations. She is a former political producer for ITV’s Channel 4 News and BBC2’s Newsnight. A freelance journalist, she started her blog, www.wifeinthenorth.com in 2006. She lives in England.







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My mom and dad were deeply in love with each other but they had their occasional spats. I remember one particular incident that I’ll call – “The Gift of the Magi.” My dad kept his loose change in his pocket not in any king of container. When he put his legs up on his footstool some of the change would spill out and go down beneath the sides of the cushion. I saw mother checking under the cushion and placing the change in a jar she hid in back of a kitchen cupboard. My dad finally began to miss his change. On day, on October first, the day before my dad’s birthday he accused my mother of stealing it. My mom got very angry and then disappeared into their bedroom and emerged with a small box that she placed in my father’s hands. “Open it,” she said. He did and there was a beautiful wristwatch. She turned and swiftly went down cellar with an armload of overalls to put into the set tub to soak. He slowly followed her. After a few minutes, I was nosy so I went downstairs. I found my mother sitting on my father’s lap, on an old dusty wooden chair, and they were both crying. My dad kept saying over and over “I love you, I love you, I’m sorry!”

I was seven years old in 1939 when World War II began and nearly thirteen when it ended. Grandma King’s health began to decline after 1940. They sold the house next door to us, moved to New York near Gram’s relatives for a short while, then moved back to an apartment in downtown Easthampton and finally built a second house two lots down the street from their first one. Gram developed what we then called “Hardening of the Arteries in the Brain,” now called “Dementia” and or “Alzheimer’s Disease.” It took a terrible toll on Gramp. Finally our doctor told my mother that Gram had to be put in the State Hospital to save my Gramp’s life. She entered the hospital the middle of April 1946 and six weeks later she was dead. There was a big hole in my heart!

Gramp sold his house and came to live with us. We all wanted him. My mother gained a most appreciative live-in father. She would just mention in conversation at the supper table to my dad that an appliance was in need of repair or possibly replacement and Gramp would go out and buy it for her. He had a good military officer’s pension plus some savings and he loved giving gifts.

He helped around the yard, cleaning the chicken coop, gathering eggs, weeding the garden and doing other light yard work. Every once a month on payday, that fell on the last Friday, he’d march up town to cash his military pension check, meet my father after work for a couple of beers and then drove home with my dad for supper. Immediately after the meal, out came Gramp’s wallet and he gave each of his grand- children an allowance, the amount varied by age – so I benefited. Five dollars for me, three for Dolores and two for Frank!

My last sibling, Celeste, was born in October 1944. My dad had wanted to join the Sea Bees but my mother would have none of that. So five years after Frank, mother decided that it was time to have her “out of the draft” baby, and I got a little sister! My dad was furious because his buddies were going into the Sea Bees. But since he was doing an important defense job making intricate little wooden boxes used to ship sensitive bombsights in, plus my mother’s appeal to the draft board, of which my Uncle Leon, dad’s brother, was a member, he was deferred for a year. By the time the year was over in October 1945, the War had ended!

My high school years flew by with 4-H club events, Grange events after I was fourteen, dancing classes and performing in musicals. They were busy but happy years.



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If you are a parent, you know the importance of hosting birthday parties for your children. Kids of all ages love to attend birthday parties. You want to be sure you have planned the party out well to ensure that fun is had by all in attendance. Your child who is turning a year older has undoubtedly been looking forward to the big day for several weeks, so you certainly want to host a terrific party.

There are decorations to be purchased, a menu must be planned and you have to come up with some fun games for the kids to keep them busy and entertained. Many parents make small gift bags to give to each party guest as they arrive and fill the bags with stuffed animals, candy or children’s wristwatches. This way even the guests do not leave the party empty-handed.

 

Planning and arranging a birthday party for a child does take a bit of work. You want to be sure that the party is one that will be remembered by your child and by his or her friends. Many parents, with the help of their children, come up with a theme for the party. The theme is usually based on something that the child loves. For example, if your child loves dinosaurs then make that the theme. Find decorations that include dinosaurs and anything else you can find that would go along with the chosen theme.

 

You will want to take a bit of time in choosing the birthday invitations. If possible, try to select invitations that follow your theme. Keep in mind that children love bright and vivid colors, so select invitations that are eye-catching and fun. Do not forget to include all of the important information on the invitations such as the time the party begins and the time it ends, so the parents of the invitees can plan the transportation for their kids. A kids birthday invitation should also include any details of the party such as the theme, so the kids coming can perhaps dress accordingly.

 

Local card shops carry birthday party invitations and there is usually a decent selection available. However, the best option for finding unique and fun invitations is by shopping online.  There are many online stores that carry invitations that are different, cheerful and most importantly, inexpensive.

 

Your child’s birthday party is a very special event and the invitations should also be special.



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