much of the burden of the children ’ s care would be left to Vannie and Laird? The children would feel like they ’ d already raised a family before they graduated from high school. The baby would be neglected. I know it ’ s a lot to ask, Aggie, but the children need someone young enough to have the time and energy for them.
She ’ ll smother the children. You know that we ’ ve tried to shelter our children as much as possible, but she will completely smother them. They will be sent to the doctor for the slightest sniffle. If they want to have a friend over, there will always be an excuse not to do it “ just this time. ” If they want to learn the piano, she ’ ll send them to lessons daily and insist that they practice three times a day. She ’ ll send them to boarding schools and then bring them home days later. She professes love for the children, and she does love them in her way, but they will be alternately smothered and then neglected. I know I keep using the word smother but it ’ s the one that really fits.
Aggie, imagine a life where you must constantly keep up appearances. The family must appear to be the epitome of taste, education, and class. There can never be a mistake. If you drop a spoon at the dinner table, it is equivalent to dropping a bowl of hot food into the president ’ s lap. If you have the nerve to sneeze inappropriately, it ’ s a crisis.
Making our home perfect was hard enough with just me, can you imagine how tormented everyone would be with eight? We can ’ t have a meal, without milk spilling, or a child opening their mouth while chewing, or needing to be reminded to say, “ excuse me ” after a burp. The whole mental picture is enough to ensure a mental breakdown for everyone involved. I can ’ t do that to the children.
Aggie, my childhood is a long series of different schools, psychologists, medical appointments, vacations, cancelled parties, and ostentatious displays. She didn ’ t know how to relate to a child. Whenever I showed a preference for cartoons over Shakespeare or French fries over caviar, I was packed off for yet another evaluation.
Emotions are forbidden in her home. If there is a problem, you don ’ t talk it out, work it out, or forgive. Instead, you pretend that it ’ s not there and hold a grudge about it. Forever. I am not exaggerating. If you want to test me on this, just mention the cabin up at the lake. I guarantee you ’ ll hear about how, when I was eight, I dropped a frog inside her swimsuit, and she “ couldn ’ t sleep for a week in fear of what else that boy might do. ”
You cannot imagine the guilt-driven manipulation. If they don ’ t say “ I love you ” every day, several times a day, she ’ ll be hurt. If they do something wrong, she ’ ll bury them in guilt on how they ’ ve hurt her until they beg for forgiveness, and then she ’ ll smother them with things. They ’ ll be the world ’ s most spoiled, immature children ever. She will try to buy their affection, and you know what that does to children.
Aggie, please understand what we are asking you to do, so you ’ ll never doubt if the decision you make is correct. Do not let our children EVER be alone with her. Do not let them spend the night, go shopping, or even speak for a long time on the phone with her. We have made it quite clear in our documentation to the courts (my six inches of medical records with only four pages since the day I graduated from college will help, I am sure) that we would rather the children be sent to foster care than to be given to her.
Honestly, I don ’ t know how she will respond. She may take it as relief but feel it ’ s her duty to care for them. She may give a token fight and then leave you alone. I don ’ t think so, though. I have almost been her life since I was born. With me gone, and Dad still in his own world, she will probably latch onto them harder than ever. Be careful, Aggie. All I know for certain is that with
She ’ ll smother the children. You know that we ’ ve tried to shelter our children as much as possible, but she will completely smother them. They will be sent to the doctor for the slightest sniffle. If they want to have a friend over, there will always be an excuse not to do it “ just this time. ” If they want to learn the piano, she ’ ll send them to lessons daily and insist that they practice three times a day. She ’ ll send them to boarding schools and then bring them home days later. She professes love for the children, and she does love them in her way, but they will be alternately smothered and then neglected. I know I keep using the word smother but it ’ s the one that really fits.
Aggie, imagine a life where you must constantly keep up appearances. The family must appear to be the epitome of taste, education, and class. There can never be a mistake. If you drop a spoon at the dinner table, it is equivalent to dropping a bowl of hot food into the president ’ s lap. If you have the nerve to sneeze inappropriately, it ’ s a crisis.
Making our home perfect was hard enough with just me, can you imagine how tormented everyone would be with eight? We can ’ t have a meal, without milk spilling, or a child opening their mouth while chewing, or needing to be reminded to say, “ excuse me ” after a burp. The whole mental picture is enough to ensure a mental breakdown for everyone involved. I can ’ t do that to the children.
Aggie, my childhood is a long series of different schools, psychologists, medical appointments, vacations, cancelled parties, and ostentatious displays. She didn ’ t know how to relate to a child. Whenever I showed a preference for cartoons over Shakespeare or French fries over caviar, I was packed off for yet another evaluation.
Emotions are forbidden in her home. If there is a problem, you don ’ t talk it out, work it out, or forgive. Instead, you pretend that it ’ s not there and hold a grudge about it. Forever. I am not exaggerating. If you want to test me on this, just mention the cabin up at the lake. I guarantee you ’ ll hear about how, when I was eight, I dropped a frog inside her swimsuit, and she “ couldn ’ t sleep for a week in fear of what else that boy might do. ”
You cannot imagine the guilt-driven manipulation. If they don ’ t say “ I love you ” every day, several times a day, she ’ ll be hurt. If they do something wrong, she ’ ll bury them in guilt on how they ’ ve hurt her until they beg for forgiveness, and then she ’ ll smother them with things. They ’ ll be the world ’ s most spoiled, immature children ever. She will try to buy their affection, and you know what that does to children.
Aggie, please understand what we are asking you to do, so you ’ ll never doubt if the decision you make is correct. Do not let our children EVER be alone with her. Do not let them spend the night, go shopping, or even speak for a long time on the phone with her. We have made it quite clear in our documentation to the courts (my six inches of medical records with only four pages since the day I graduated from college will help, I am sure) that we would rather the children be sent to foster care than to be given to her.
Honestly, I don ’ t know how she will respond. She may take it as relief but feel it ’ s her duty to care for them. She may give a token fight and then leave you alone. I don ’ t think so, though. I have almost been her life since I was born. With me gone, and Dad still in his own world, she will probably latch onto them harder than ever. Be careful, Aggie. All I know for certain is that with
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