A Little Bit of Room

My wife and I have been watching a lot of those shows on HGTV where people are either buying a house or fixing up a house. Sometimes the people are selling their current home and buying a new home. I especially like the episodes where they’re fixing up an older house, where they gut it down to the studs and the subflooring, and then redo it all up to so-called modern standards. That’s a talent that I definitely do not have.

However, there is one thing that really annoys me as I watch these shows. Most times, there is a couple with one or two kids, and every once in a while, there are three kids. I guess that is the typical family today and I fit into that category with my own. I don’t have a problem with that. It’s the way the people have to have a monster home, and every kid has to have their own bedroom and bathroom. Okay, so I exaggerate slightly about each kid having their own bathroom, but only a little. Many people say they absolutely need 3000+ square feet, at least three bathrooms, a fully finished basement, and the obligatory “open concept” main floor.

Really? There are only four people in most of these families and they must have these ridiculous sized houses. At one time, when all nine kids were still living at home, we had about 1000 square feet, three bedrooms, one bathroom (that is NOT a misprint) and no basement, finished or unfinished. Was it a bit crowded? Yes, it was. Did we need more room? Yes, we did, but that didn’t come for a few years, and until the three older ones were out of the house. How did we do it? We just did, just like a lot of other families did back then.

We shared bedrooms. Mom and Dad had theirs; another bedroom had two sets of bunk beds and another bed in the middle for the five oldest boys; and the third bedroom had two double beds, one for me and my younger brother and one for the two girls. So not only did we share bedrooms, we shared beds. Like I said, we made it work, we had no other choice really. But, it wasn’t just that we gritted our teeth and toughed it out, we actually didn’t mind it. At least I didn’t.

There was something about lying in bed, talking, laughing, and telling stories that I wouldn’t have traded for anything, even my own room. It built a great friendship between my younger brother and me, and with my sister who is a year older than me (the “Three Little Ones”). If we had each had our own room, I don’t think we would have had that. And I don’t think I would have learned to get along with others as well either, because being together in such tight quarters teaches you some great life lessons – sharing, respecting each other and each other’s space, working out a conflict, and compromise. It’s best to learn those at home while younger than learn them the hard way later in life.

I still watch those HGTV shows, even if they do annoy me at times. The people that think they’re doing their family a favor by buying huge houses where each person gets their own wing of the house will find out some day that they missed something. It wasn’t space, nor was it amenities, but something far more important; time together in the same room.

Did It Really Happen?

A couple people have asked me if some of the things I write about really happened or was it really like that growing up. And another person asked me how the heck I remember all this stuff. OK, you got me. I’m really an only child from a wealthy family and every story is made up. I don’t really have six brothers and two sisters, and there were never card games and board games; I didn’t have to learn to get along with others, or how to share things, or how to wait for things; I got everything and anything I wanted, especially at Christmas; my yard was not the football field or the wiffle ball field where we played for hours; I went on luxurious vacations every year; I didn’t have to count out M&M’s in a Dixie Cup. Well, maybe in some parallel universe or imaginary world that is true, but not here in the real world. All I can say is, I write things as I remember them. Does that mean that everything I write is exactly how it happened? Probably not, but what I write is how I remember things and so far no one has come forward and said, “That never happened.”, or “This is what really happened.”, or “This is how that really happened.”.

I know I have a pretty good memory because there are times I bring up situations and someone doesn’t remember it, but as I fill in the details they’ll say, “Oh, yeah. I remember that!” Then we’ll talk about it for fifteen or twenty minutes and laugh about things that happened. Oftentimes it will lead to the retelling of other situations that happened, some even funnier than the original one we talked about. I don’t know why I have such clear memories of occurrences from decades ago – but can’t remember where I left my cell phone ten minutes ago – but maybe it’s because those were some great times and I drank in all the details.

I try not to make it sound like everything was wonderful when I was a kid, because it wasn’t. We weren’t The Brady Bunch or the Huxtables on The Cosby Show. My family went through some hard times, especially trying to feed, clothe and provide for nine kids. I could focus on the struggles I had as a kid, or that we had as a family, but as I look back on my childhood I don’t see the tough times as much as I see how those times taught me something about life, myself or family. In many instances, those tough times taught me what was really important as opposed to what just seemed to be important. That doesn’t mean I always made the right decisions, I made enough bad ones in my life to last ten lifetimes, but I’d like to think that I learned from my mistakes and grew and changed because of them.

My parents and family were by no means perfect. However, my parents raised nine kids, all who are reasonably successful adults. Not one of us is a criminal or a derelict. Trust me when I say that there were other families we knew that had as many, or almost as many, kids as we did and that cannot be said about them. I’m not bragging or trying to put anyone down, but it would have been easy for any of us to turn to a different lifestyle than we did in order to get the “things” many of our friends had. That we didn’t is a testament to our parents and how they taught us to live.

So did this stuff really happen and was it really like I say it was? As far as I remember, yes and yes. I remember it from my perspective and through the lenses of 30 – 40 year old glasses. Things may be a little fuzzy around the edges, but the main part is very clear. I had parents who loved me, and brothers and sisters that I loved (well most of the time anyway). As my Dad used to frequently say, we always had “a roof over our heads, food on the table and clothes on our backs”, despite some fairly hard times. It’s not all flowers and rainbows today either, but I often think that if my parents got through challenges with nine kids, I can do it with two.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

New Kind of Family

My wife and I were talking to some friends the other night about the content of TV shows for kids today and about how family is portrayed in general on TV. These days, family is mostly portrayed in a negative way and usually as dysfunctional. Family members don’t even try to get along with each other, they talk rudely to each other and they are totally disrespectful to one another. There is also disrespect toward the parents and between the parents. What’s a parent to do? Unless you want your kids to hate you, you can’t just ban TV.

Well, there is a cable channel called ABC Family, so they must have family shows scheduled, right? Not so much. ABC Family is nothing close to a family station. Here’s the titles of some of the shows you can see on ABC Family: Pretty Little Liars, The Lying Game, The Secret Life of the American Teenager and 10 Things I Hate About You. When you read what the shows are about it is plain to see that not one family is even semi-normal, and I wonder if any character on any of the shows are well-adjusted. Yeah, it’s “A new kind of family” alright. I’ll stick to the old kind.

I’m not even going to try and convince you that my family always got along with each other. There were nine kids in a fairly small house, including seven boys. Even if I just think about the times I remember most, when the three older ones were married and there were just six of us, there was conflict. However, when there were arguments or fights (not a fist fight, but a war of words) the expectation was that we would work it out. If we couldn’t, or wouldn’t, work it out and get along with each other, Mom had her last alternative – sitting on the couch and facing each other until we were ready to get along. Talking rudely to each other was not allowed – at least not in the presence of Mom or Dad. Disrespect toward our parents? Ah, no, that would not have been tolerated.

We did stuff together, like playing games or playing cards, so we had lots of fun times. But Friday night was a special night in my house when I was growing up. We sat together as a family (maybe after arguing slightly over who got what seat) and watched The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family. These were two good shows about families where people truly cared about each other and yes, even loved each other. They had their fights and arguments and didn’t always agree with each other, just like in real families. But by the end of the show, they had resolved the conflict, made up and moved on. Is it any wonder that people still love the Brady Bunch today?

While we watched the shows, we were munching on M&M’s. We must have gone through a ton of M&M’s! Each of us got a Dixie cup and Mom would count out a specific amount of Plain M&M’s and a specific amount of Peanut M&M’s. It may seem silly to count them out, but it was the only way to make sure that we all got our share. I say specific amount because I’m not really sure how many we got. It may have been 15 plain and 10 peanut, or 20 of each; we’ve talked about it at family parties and there is some disagreement as to the quantities. I don’t remember if the older guys got more than the younger guys, or the same amount. However, we all still remember eating our M&M’s while watching the Brady Bunch.

The hard part was making them last as long as we could. I divided mine up by colors and ate the color that had the most first. I’d eat them one or two at a time and I didn’t chew them, but would let them melt in my mouth (not in my hand!). I have to admit that I had a habit that most people would think is pretty disgusting. When I ate the Peanut M&M’s I would let all the chocolate melt off, then I would put the naked peanuts back into my Dixie cup to be eaten after I had finished all the M&M’s. Pretty gross, I know, but I never had to worry about anyone eating any of the peanuts!

Today, M&M’s are a necessity for any family party or gathering. Of course, there are more than just Plain and Peanut these days, but those are the staples, along with Pretzel. Mom doesn’t count them out for us anymore, but anyone who is taking more than their fair share gets some good-natured ribbing. Nothing disrespectful or rude, just a little reminder that there’s a bunch more of us who want some, too.

It may seem corny or old-fashioned that we sat around together on a Friday night and watched a TV show together, and the Brady Bunch at that, but we all have fond memories of those times. We weren’t the Brady Bunch where everything always turned out just right, but we actually liked each other and being together. We got along with each other for the most part, and when we didn’t we worked it out. I’ll take the “old kind of family” over the “new kind of family” any day.

Working Things Out

We’ve been hearing a lot lately out of Washington about the debt limit and how it needs to be raised or we’ll face a catastrophe in the United States. I’m not really into politics and I’m not going to get into a political debate or discussion, but doesn’t this seem just a bit ridiculous to anyone else out there? Each political party has stated their side of the argument and made sure everyone knows why they’re right and the other side is wrong. Each side has pulled the “we’re doing what’s best for the taxpayers” slant while saying the other side is going to destroy our great nation. The arguments for whatever side people are on or lean to ring true for them while the other side just doesn’t get it. As the deadline looms neither side is ready to give an inch.

Maybe these guys need to go back to their childhood to remember how to do just that. My parents taught me how to work things out, how to compromise and how to get along. Now I’m not talking about compromising on something that is illegal, immoral or unethical, but on something that is preference or opinion. I’m not going to compromise on murdering someone (“Well, if you just shoot them once in the head, it’ll be painless, so that’s not as bad as strangling someone so they slowly die from a lack of oxygen.”), but I’ll compromise on how much work I do around the house (“Honey, I’m not doing ANY work around the house - no cleaning, no cooking, no laundry.” We’ll see how far that gets me with my wife!). Through many sibling quarrels, my parents taught us how to work things out.

It’s actually quite simple. First you present what you think, what you want or what you want to do. While you’re doing this, I listen to all that you’re saying. If necessary, when you’re finished, I ask questions to make sure I understand you. Next, I present what I think, what I want or what I want to do. While I’m doing this, you listen to all that I’m saying. If necessary, when I’m finished, you ask questions to make sure you understand me. Notice there’s no pointing fingers, no belittling the other guy and no yelling and screaming. At this point, neither person is likely to just give in and do exactly what the other person wants. That’s why you’re having this discussion in the first place. Now comes the compromising. My parents taught us to find some common ground and go from there. In my example about housework above, my wife and I would see that we both want to live in peace and harmony, and that we want to be able to spend some time together. So I would compromise and do some of the work. Everybody wins; my wife doesn’t have to do all the boring housework and I get to live.

There was one last alternative that my parents employed if we were fighting with each other or just wouldn’t get along with each other. They would make us sit on the couch facing each other and we couldn’t get off it until we were ready to get along with each other. You may be thinking, “That’s so mean!” Actually, it wasn’t. Most times, within about two minutes we were smiling, laughing and totally forgetting why were sitting on the couch instead of doing whatever it was we wanted to do. Sometimes, just seeing the silly look on the other person’s face was enough to make me laugh. Have you ever noticed how funny most people look when they’re being uncompromising, stubborn and angry for no good reason? Take a look in the mirror next time you’re like that. I caught my face in a mirror once when I was being stubborn and angry and it wasn’t a pretty picture. The key to the couch faceoff was that neither of us got our way, but it didn’t matter because we were friends again.

So here’s my proposal to the House and Senate on the debt issue. Take a page from my parents’ book and lock the decision makers in a room and tell them that they can’t come out until they’ve come up with a compromise that everyone can live with. Not one that everyone is totally happy with, because that’s not going to happen. But I think they can find some common ground and come up with something that both sides are mostly happy with. That’s how compromise works. Maybe they’ll even come out smiling, laughing and forgetting exactly why they were put in there in the first place.