Discussion 7 Peer Reviews Dalmus Only !!!!! - 77002

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  • From: Languages, English
  • Due on: Sun 19 Apr, 2015 (04:57pm)
  • Asked on: Sat 18 Apr, 2015
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1. When we all was young we gave our mother a hard time by all the stupid things we did. I used to always talk back to my mother just so I could have the last word. At first she would let it go and we would go our separate ways. After a way she stopped letting it go and we would start arguing about it. One time we was arguing and she started to cry and ask why I got to make everything hard. This made me feel bad, I never wanted to see my mom cry especially if it's because of me. Seeing her cry made me change up my attitude and stop giving her a hard time with things.


2. This story is somewhat similar to my relationship with my mother. As a child, I realized early i'm not entitled to anything my mother has earned. However, I do appreciate it (whatever it may be) when it's given. In this story the main character felt undeserving of his gift. Truthfully, I would agree parents have the worst and best job. The job of raising, or tending to children. People often deny, or abandon children that turn out horribly. Sadly, people don't take the approach Miss Madison took on the issue of disobedience. More people should consider the negative possibility when dealing with children or young people. Instead of, assuming my child or these children will turn out wonderfully under my dominion.


3. My parents divorced when I was only 7 years old. I had two younger brother, Tom who was 4 and Bob who was 1. Our Mother had custody of us and as the Mother of three children, she needed to support us. She took on several part time jobs to support us. At the time I knew and understood that it was important for her to work, but I was angry because I was always left to watch my younger brothers. I wanted to be a kid as well, but the family needed me to ensure no one was hurt and everyone was clean and taken care of. One evening, my Mother came home drunk many hours after her shift ended. This was the evening I began to despise my Mother. Over the next few years, I felt like I was the Mother and she was the daughter. I loved her, but I hated her so much as well. At 10 years old, she was working primarily over nights. It was my job to keep my brothers quiet while she slept during the day. In attempt to make it so she could be home more, I took my brothers house to house, asking if there was yard or house work that could be done. I always gave my younger brothers one candy bar of their choice at the corner store, then I would give our mother the rest of the money we made. Each time I handed Mom the money and she would gladly accept it, I grew more and more angry with her. I would never voice my opinion, but I could feel it boiling through me. A few years later, teenage hormones took over my body and my mouth. I had advanced to babysitting as well as cleaning homes and yards on top of caring for my brothers as our mother worked two jobs. I stopped giving my mother money, but I felt a strong need to work and provide for others. One full time and one part time. My anger finally over came me and I started to voice it to my mother. We would yell and scream at each other. It felt like we were battling to show the other that we both had it worse than the other. This became our daily routine for a couple of years. When I turned 16, I naturally wanted a car. My brothers were starting to be more independent and I wanted the same. Mom was working at Joel's Steakhouse as a waitress. One evening after our exchange of harsh words, she told me that Joel's was looking to hire a bus person. The next morning, I went down and filled out the application. The manager hired me on the spot. I explained to everyone that I had previously done odd jobs for and was babysitting for that I could no longer help them. Anyone that has ever held a job in a restaurant understands the true meaning of hard work. This is what my mother had been doing all of these years. I grew to appreciate how tired she use to seem to me as I went home exhausted. Then something else magically happened without either of us even noticing it was, my mother and I became very close. Working together gave us the opportunity to depend on each other through our shifts. On top of this, the waitresses all pooled their money together at the end of shifts and split it, then they would give tips to other employees that had helped. I will never forget the first tip I received from my mother. She handed me over three hundred dollars in an envelope. It was all of the money that I had ever given her. We cried as she told me she kept it all for me and never used any of it. She pulled me away from her hug with her hands on my shoulders and intensely looked me in the eyes while she said, "I'm sorry." With those two words, my hatred and anger melted away. That night I laid in bed and thought of all of the times mom rubbed her feet or held her back as she took us to the store. I remembered begging her to get a babysitter and her simply crying because she was in the middle of trying to figure out the bills. I thought about the feeling of her handing me everything I had worked for that she had saved instead of using even though she needed it. I rolled over and looked at the money, stuffed in my transparent "saving for a car" bin and I cried. I cried because until that day I did not realize all of the gifts my mother gave me. Every job I have had has given me awards for my extreme work ethic because mom showed me how to work. I am extremely close to my bothers because mom forged a strong relationship between us early. My children are the center of my universe because of the lessons mom taught me about children. But most of all, my mother taught me to not only look at others through their eyes instead of my own, but also, to forgive. My mother, who use to be my enemy, is now my best friend.


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