Reading these make me sad for two reasons:

1. The obvious stories of abuse are heartbreaking and sad.


2, Others make me sad for the younger generations with childhoods that are so managed that even how they have fun during "free time" is dictated. I know they don't know any other way but it's sad to think they'll never have stories or some of these memories.

Born in 1976.

I remember standing in the car between the seats and leaning forward for most drives. We once got rear ended while I was standing and I cried - but didn't get hurt. Continued standing. MUstve been 3 or 4.

Used to fall asleep on a pile of coats when my parents went to dinner parties. No one was worried about children's bedtimes.

I remember when my baby brother was born, his car seat was in the front and rear facing. So easy for my mom to give him a bottle or see if something was wrong. Unless my dad was also in the car, in which case she'd just hold him on her lap.

My mom smoked - a lot. There's a great picture of her puffing smoke rings over my infant head as I'm lying on a sofa in a student center at Boston college (she was visiting her younger brother). Things wrong with the picture - the smoke, obviously, but she also looks totally disengaged, and in lying right on the sofa - I can't imagine any mom today laying their 3 min old on any random surface without a blanket or clothe!

Not letting us use the bathroom during the night at anytime.

Not letting us eat any breakfast until they got out of bed.

Only allowing a shower 3x a week.

Making us sit at the table until every morsel of food was eaten off the plate.

Anonymous wrote:I grew up in the early 70s.My parents didn't let my brother and me watch TV on school nights. They would go out and take both TVs with them in the back of the car-chuckling to themselves.

LOL. My mom cut the TV cord in half , had my dad put a splicer on it and carried the plug end in her bathrobe so she could plug it in to watch the 6PM and 11PM news.

Anonymous wrote:When I was 16, Mom let my 18 year old boyfriend move into my bedroom and grow pot in the basement. The house reeked.

There are some other gems, but I'll leave it at that.

I remember going shopping for college. Both my twin brother and I had a cart. My mom threw a big box of condoms into his and tampons into mine. Other than that, we got the same stuff.

Anonymous wrote:My dad has no fingerprints.

Did he burn them off? Is he in hiding?

My dad has no fingerprints.

Grew up on hippie commune, so many things.

Many blistering sunburns and at least one sun poisoning and trip to the ER for sunburn.

If neighbor's dog barked too much at night, my dad would go out onto the deck naked and blow off a couple rounds of his shotgun.

Parents had many parties that went late into the night. Lots of pot. Usually included naked floating and drinking on innertubes on the pond. I watched Saturday Night Live in the bedroom while the adults yelled and screamed and danced and partied. Too much noise and loud Rolling Stones to sleep. Can remember the revelers singing "send me dead flowers" at the top of their lungs. Sometimes look at my own social life and envy theirs. They are still close friends with these people in their 70s.

They grew pot in our garden.

I played in the creek or by the pond for hours, or even all day, alone. I saw a lot of snakes and had a very rich fantasy fairy life down by the creek.

I traveled from the west coast to the east coast in the back of a pickup truck with the dog, with a flimsy fiberglass camper top on the top. We slept back there. We had a blanket.

I remember the day I heard the "n" word at preschool. I came home and said it and my mom slapped me across the face.

Many other stories but I'm afraid I would out myself.

Anonymous wrote:I forget where I read it, but I read that back in the day, like pioneering times - they used to just tie toddlers to a post outside while the parents went to work out in the fields. Point being, we've come a long way.

Yep. I heard this is why France has their awesome daycare system now. Mothers had to tie kids to beds while they went to work. It made everyone miserable, so they started the public daycares because moms who feel better work better.

When I was 16, Mom let my 18 year old boyfriend move into my bedroom and grow pot in the basement. The house reeked.

There are some other gems, but I'll leave it at that.

My mom says she used to put me outside in the stroller with the sun in my face so I would sleep. She says a lot of people did that.

We slept in the car while camping to be safer from the bears.

My parents also didn't care if we were bored. Boredom = clean the toilet or pick up dog poop.

My mom spent a lot of time in Studio 54 before having us. I remember being 7, and she and I dressing up in her old clothes and dancing around the living with the music blaring. My mom would put snips of rum in her Tab (I still remember those cans.) She held a cigarette always until she quit when I was about 11.

She was awesomely nuts, and we turned out okay. Now she laughs when we tell her these stories, and also says she feels regret that she did that as a parent. We love her to pieces, and I don't think she did any damage. I still love all that music.

Anonymous wrote:I so wish you could leave kids in the car these days -- alas, buckle, unbuckle, buckle, unbuckle...*le sigh*

+one million

I grew up in the early 70s.My parents didn't let my brother and me watch TV on school nights. They would go out and take both TVs with them in the back of the car-chuckling to themselves.

My mother would let me eat three bowls of ice cream after dinner and then tell me I was fat. She would also tell me she didn't know what to do with me since she was so pretty and thin.

Father left me in the car for 4 hours with the keys while he went to a meeting.

Let us play with BB guns. My friends brother ended up with a bb in his butt.

Father gave me horse medication when I got hurt so he didn't have to take me to the doctor.