Parents Expose The Reasons Why They Don't Like Their Own Children
It's not easy to find someone who loves you unconditionally. Still, if you can't find the person (just yet), rest assured because you have your parents. Even though you may be imperfect, short of this or that, your parents never doubt that you're the best child on earth. Still, it doesn't mean that parents blindly support and love their children even though they have twisted personalities.
Morals are greater than love. As a parent, one must protect and love their children. But if your child has very worst character and behavioral flaws, and there's nothing you can do to change the situation, will you still love your child? People are sharing the things they dislike about their own kids. Not all of those munchkins are the same. Some are cute and bright, while others are obnoxiously liars. People are very candid about the darker side of parenting, so let's scroll down and check it out.
When he was three, he had an ear infection. We didn't know that, of course, we just knew that he was inconsolable and in pain from *something*. He does not understand questions like 'does it hurt here?', or 'show me where it hurts, or 'does your stomach hurt?' Eventually, his eardrum burst out yellow stuff and we said, 'oh. ear ache'.
He has never been given aspirin for a headache. He's probably had a headache, but I don't know. He can't tell us if he has a headache or any other kind of ache.
He can use the toilet but doesn't really get using toilet paper. Or maybe he does but saw us get upset once for throwing an entire roll into the toilet, so lately he has been going to the bathroom at 5:00 am, then finding clothes, sheets, towels, something, whatever, and wiping his a*s with those. We've pretty much run the washing machine on sanitizing about .75 times a day the last two weeks. He's got a reason for it somewhere in his head that makes sense to him, but he can't tell us what it is, and we can't get him to figure out to f*****g come and get us if he's taken a s**t.
We've taken to 'hiding' foods he prefers in the house, given free reign to potato chips, or humus, or cranberries, or f*****g whatever, he'll eat and eat and eat, and then throw up later that night. It's not his fault, he's been on antipsychotics for a few years now, one side effect of which is weight gain. I hate, f*****g hate, giving him anti-psychotics, but not quite as much as how he acts/acted when he wasn't on them.
As a family, we cannot realistically travel. Interruptions to his routine result in a constant moan/whine/crying/occasional outburst of self-injury, or rarely, attacking others. The pain and fear he feels are very real to him, and we are powerless to provide him comfort. Instead, my wife will travel with my other sons while I stay home with him.
He has never had a friend that was not a direct family or therapist. I don't see how he ever will. He will never kiss a girl, drive a car, or have a job. I have no idea if he *wants* to do those things or not, or if he knows they exist as things at all.
In the early days of his autism, we threw therapies at him by writing checks against the house and credit card companies to the tune of 30K+/year for five years or so. (insurance has subsequently helped out some with this). We're still digging our way out of that, slowly but surely. Ultimately, however, they haven't really done much in the context of turning him into a person that can live his own life. For example, they are working on having him keep a band-aid on; they've had that as part of his program for about six months, and he'll keep a band-aid on for fifteen minutes or so. Great. The reality is that when he gets a cut or laceration, it sits open for weeks; he simply will constantly tear away any bandages. I'm sure that he has good reasons in his mind for not wanting a bandage on, but he just doesn't understand the concept of 'medicine' making you feel 'better' 'in a few days'; none of those things seem to get through.
He's never been to the dentist. There are some that will work with children like him when he is unconscious. We just haven't felt like giving him anesthesia to take him to the goddamned dentist. It's on the list for this year.
He goes through periods of self-injury. When he was a toddler, he banged his head, *a lot*. He broke a few windows in our home. He very likely concussed himself a few times. Lately, he's been punching the table during favorite scenes from Disney films; he has a blood blister about three inches long on both hands. He understands when we tell him, 'don't do that, punch the pillow instead'. He'll punch the pillow for a few minutes, and then start banging the walls again; he is simply a slave to the routine.
When my wife and I die, people that make $10 an hour will take care of him, or not, for the rest of his life.
There's more, so much more, and the thing about autism is that it does not take one m***********g second off. Nobody gets a day off. Ever.
He works harder than anyone I know, harder than anyone reading this thread will ever work and gets s**t to show for it. He inhabits a world where everything is too loud, too bright, too confusing, and too unconforming to his patterns, and is trying as best as he can to navigate through it. He didn't ask for any of this. Sometimes he's got a d******d father who gets mad at him, who resents him for all of these things and a million others that he cannot control. Me. But he deserves better than that, so I'm trying, every f*****g hour of the day to remember that he is the one who got the raw deal, not me, not his brothers, him. I have bad moments, but no longer bad weeks or days. I'm working on it, if only I could work as hard as he does, I'd be golden.
So the answer to your question is autism happened to him, to us.
The doctor told us that abortion was a viable option, but we needed to decide within a week or it would be too late. I knew right away that I was for the abortion, but didn't know how to bring it up. When we finally did sit down and talk, I brought all sorts of articles and books on kids with Down Syndrome. I tried to show her rather than convince her of how hard our life would be if our child actually did have it. It was going to be hard for both of us to have a healthy child, let alone one that needed far more care. We were both busy, and happy.
She didn't want to take out our unborn child, and there was nothing I could really do to change her mind without really really making her mad and ruining our relationship. So reluctantly, I went with it.
As luck would have it, our daughter was born with translocation Down Syndrome. Only 1% of all cases of Down syndrome are that, and it has a lot to do with hereditary conditions. I don't want to go into how bad our life became. I really can't even handle typing it out. My wife had to quit her job which she adored. We had to move to a smaller house after a year and a half because of the medical bills. When I came home from work, she was too tired to talk or even see me and went to bed, and my entire 5 hours of free time every. single. day. was spent caring for our daughter in some form or another. I Didn't see my friend for 9 months. Missed my cousin's wedding because we couldn't even think about traveling.
Everything changed, and everything changed for the worst. My wife and I only talked when we fought. Either she was too tired and that caused her anger, or I worked too much and didn't help her enough. To tell you my life went to s**t is an understatement because I can't even imagine how much extra stress my wife must have endured in those first couple of years.
I don't hate my daughter. But I do resent the fact that we had her, even though I knew our life would be this way. I go to the parks sometimes and sit and watch all the happy fathers play with their happy kids. Watch them throw the ball around, or just run around the jungle gym. That's the life I wanted, that I dreamed of, but I will never have. My wife and I are still together because neither wants to burden the other by leaving.
Morals are greater than love. As a parent, one must protect and love their children. But if your child has very worst character and behavioral flaws, and there's nothing you can do to change the situation, will you still love your child? People are sharing the things they dislike about their own kids. Not all of those munchkins are the same. Some are cute and bright, while others are obnoxiously liars. People are very candid about the darker side of parenting, so let's scroll down and check it out.
#1
Source: anon
#2
Source: jjon670
#3
Source: lovdatcowbell
#4
Source: throwawaymine75
#5
Source: Shizilly
#6
Source: [deleted]
#7
Source: dakipsta
#8
Source: thatcantb
#9
Source: Powerful-Slice-9
#10
Source: sweet-royal-blue
#11
Source: CattBooty
#12
Source: throwthisoneaway6789
#13
Source: jeanpope
#14
Source: superThrowtasticChie
When he was three, he had an ear infection. We didn't know that, of course, we just knew that he was inconsolable and in pain from *something*. He does not understand questions like 'does it hurt here?', or 'show me where it hurts, or 'does your stomach hurt?' Eventually, his eardrum burst out yellow stuff and we said, 'oh. ear ache'.
He has never been given aspirin for a headache. He's probably had a headache, but I don't know. He can't tell us if he has a headache or any other kind of ache.
He can use the toilet but doesn't really get using toilet paper. Or maybe he does but saw us get upset once for throwing an entire roll into the toilet, so lately he has been going to the bathroom at 5:00 am, then finding clothes, sheets, towels, something, whatever, and wiping his a*s with those. We've pretty much run the washing machine on sanitizing about .75 times a day the last two weeks. He's got a reason for it somewhere in his head that makes sense to him, but he can't tell us what it is, and we can't get him to figure out to f*****g come and get us if he's taken a s**t.
We've taken to 'hiding' foods he prefers in the house, given free reign to potato chips, or humus, or cranberries, or f*****g whatever, he'll eat and eat and eat, and then throw up later that night. It's not his fault, he's been on antipsychotics for a few years now, one side effect of which is weight gain. I hate, f*****g hate, giving him anti-psychotics, but not quite as much as how he acts/acted when he wasn't on them.
As a family, we cannot realistically travel. Interruptions to his routine result in a constant moan/whine/crying/occasional outburst of self-injury, or rarely, attacking others. The pain and fear he feels are very real to him, and we are powerless to provide him comfort. Instead, my wife will travel with my other sons while I stay home with him.
He has never had a friend that was not a direct family or therapist. I don't see how he ever will. He will never kiss a girl, drive a car, or have a job. I have no idea if he *wants* to do those things or not, or if he knows they exist as things at all.
In the early days of his autism, we threw therapies at him by writing checks against the house and credit card companies to the tune of 30K+/year for five years or so. (insurance has subsequently helped out some with this). We're still digging our way out of that, slowly but surely. Ultimately, however, they haven't really done much in the context of turning him into a person that can live his own life. For example, they are working on having him keep a band-aid on; they've had that as part of his program for about six months, and he'll keep a band-aid on for fifteen minutes or so. Great. The reality is that when he gets a cut or laceration, it sits open for weeks; he simply will constantly tear away any bandages. I'm sure that he has good reasons in his mind for not wanting a bandage on, but he just doesn't understand the concept of 'medicine' making you feel 'better' 'in a few days'; none of those things seem to get through.
He's never been to the dentist. There are some that will work with children like him when he is unconscious. We just haven't felt like giving him anesthesia to take him to the goddamned dentist. It's on the list for this year.
He goes through periods of self-injury. When he was a toddler, he banged his head, *a lot*. He broke a few windows in our home. He very likely concussed himself a few times. Lately, he's been punching the table during favorite scenes from Disney films; he has a blood blister about three inches long on both hands. He understands when we tell him, 'don't do that, punch the pillow instead'. He'll punch the pillow for a few minutes, and then start banging the walls again; he is simply a slave to the routine.
When my wife and I die, people that make $10 an hour will take care of him, or not, for the rest of his life.
There's more, so much more, and the thing about autism is that it does not take one m***********g second off. Nobody gets a day off. Ever.
He works harder than anyone I know, harder than anyone reading this thread will ever work and gets s**t to show for it. He inhabits a world where everything is too loud, too bright, too confusing, and too unconforming to his patterns, and is trying as best as he can to navigate through it. He didn't ask for any of this. Sometimes he's got a d******d father who gets mad at him, who resents him for all of these things and a million others that he cannot control. Me. But he deserves better than that, so I'm trying, every f*****g hour of the day to remember that he is the one who got the raw deal, not me, not his brothers, him. I have bad moments, but no longer bad weeks or days. I'm working on it, if only I could work as hard as he does, I'd be golden.
So the answer to your question is autism happened to him, to us.
#15
Source: throwheraway19999
The doctor told us that abortion was a viable option, but we needed to decide within a week or it would be too late. I knew right away that I was for the abortion, but didn't know how to bring it up. When we finally did sit down and talk, I brought all sorts of articles and books on kids with Down Syndrome. I tried to show her rather than convince her of how hard our life would be if our child actually did have it. It was going to be hard for both of us to have a healthy child, let alone one that needed far more care. We were both busy, and happy.
She didn't want to take out our unborn child, and there was nothing I could really do to change her mind without really really making her mad and ruining our relationship. So reluctantly, I went with it.
As luck would have it, our daughter was born with translocation Down Syndrome. Only 1% of all cases of Down syndrome are that, and it has a lot to do with hereditary conditions. I don't want to go into how bad our life became. I really can't even handle typing it out. My wife had to quit her job which she adored. We had to move to a smaller house after a year and a half because of the medical bills. When I came home from work, she was too tired to talk or even see me and went to bed, and my entire 5 hours of free time every. single. day. was spent caring for our daughter in some form or another. I Didn't see my friend for 9 months. Missed my cousin's wedding because we couldn't even think about traveling.
Everything changed, and everything changed for the worst. My wife and I only talked when we fought. Either she was too tired and that caused her anger, or I worked too much and didn't help her enough. To tell you my life went to s**t is an understatement because I can't even imagine how much extra stress my wife must have endured in those first couple of years.
I don't hate my daughter. But I do resent the fact that we had her, even though I knew our life would be this way. I go to the parks sometimes and sit and watch all the happy fathers play with their happy kids. Watch them throw the ball around, or just run around the jungle gym. That's the life I wanted, that I dreamed of, but I will never have. My wife and I are still together because neither wants to burden the other by leaving.
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