It is Because of My Inner Child

I was just curious of what are some motivators for people due to some childhood issues?

Like for instance, I take really good care of my pets because growing up my parents did not. They got a bunny, but it was always outside in a hutch. And our dogs were always on a chain tied to their doghouse. And while we had cats, they had to be barn cats. This really has changed me. I really take care of my animals, even my sheep lived an idyllic life. My dog, now retired from guarding sheep; is inside. Our cat is also an inside cat, and has plenty of toys to play with. Our bunny is inside as well, although I admit that she hates us, but has every possible toy and food that she could ever want.

My bother, he accidentally backed over a cat once, and to this day he has a half dozen cats that rule his home, all from his guilt about running over his own cat.

Those are just some examples...

This is interesting Travis.....I wonder if this is 'better care' in the animals mind? or just for us humans?

Our cats and dogs have always been outdoor animals...and they thrive.  I can't imagine any of them being in the house as it seems so restrictive to their natural instincts?

On the other hand, a dog on a chain or a bunny in a cage is just sad although at different times we've done both for brief periods.  

We have a fifteen year old mama cat who was born in a barn and has moved with us and is happily settled into this neighborhood...quite adaptable and very cozy in her bed on the porch and loves to roam the creek and surrounding fields.

I grew up with outdoor animals, both livestock and pets and a mother who couldn't stand indoor pets, so I suppose that influenced me at an early age?

Our dogs are outside during the day but want to come inside at night.
The hogs have their own house as do the chickens and the donkey.
Only the hogs and chickens are fenced in (more as protection from the dogs than anything)

I have crushed a kitten once trying to not crush it while trying to get off my motorcycle (the bike fell over and trapped my leg against a car bumper, nearly broke that leg.
I have since then come to terms with the fact that cats, just like some other animals, occasionally put themselves in harms way and if I can't avoid them safely, they loose.

I listen to my children, and believe what they choose to share with me as this was not the case in my childhood. My parents didn't want to see the truth and instead just labeled me a problem, either sick or bad depending on the situation.

My inlaws...and I admit I have quite a few pairs of them, seemed quite upset that I never called them "Mom" or "Dad."

I can see why they would want me to do that, but growing up my parents were foster parents so I had to "share" my parents with everyone. All the foster kids ended up calling my parents Mom or Dad. So to me, it just seems wrong to do that to my wife (Tina/Patty or Katie). I know they did not care, but for me...I only have one set of parents, and to me in a weird sort of way, calling them...and only them...Mm and dad was my way of honoring them.

I don’t know if is exactly the same type of issue, but I am an acreage owner due to my early childhood.

When I was five years old I moved into a house my parents just built in a rural subdivision.  At the time it was a very rural subdivision and actually a little difficult to give directions on how to get there.  My lot was about .6 acres, but my eccentric neighbor across the street bought two lots about the same size as mine.  His house was located on the other side of the road and to the left (when looking out our front window), and the adjacent lot directly in front of ours.  Behind his lot was an old pasture tucked in a valley approximately 1/2 mile wide by 1/4 mile deep.  The pasture had two streams that merged in the center, hills that obstructed a full view (and added mystery as to what lay behind).  It was dotted with trees here and there.  It was the source of numerous childhood adventures.

Sadly the area “developed”.  More housing gobbled up vast areas of farmland and that pasture is now a lake surrounded by multi million dollar homes.  The rural character is largely gone.

Today I am a landowner in Southern Illinois, not far from the Shawnee National Forest.  I own the land so that it shall never be developed into high density housing and in fact I strive to keep it as natural as possible (by local covenants I have to mow my open acreage once per year, but I am ok with that.)

Watching nature disappear made me strive to own a piece in order to protect it.

Eric

Apparently my husband had to give away a dog when he was a child because of various problems with it. Fast forward we had a great pyr that had an intense hate for our st Bernard. Trainers couldn't solve the problem and the fighting was intense. When I became pregnant and was caught in the middle of a fight I declared the pyr had to go. Huge issue for my husband because of that one dog when he was a kid. We did give it to a great rescue and I hear he's in a nice home now.

elle sagenev wrote:Apparently my husband had to give away a dog when he was a child because of various problems with it. Fast forward we had a great pyr that had an intense hate for our st Bernard. Trainers couldn't solve the problem and the fighting was intense. When I became pregnant and was caught in the middle of a fight I declared the pyr had to go. Huge issue for my husband because of that one dog when he was a kid. We did give it to a great rescue and I hear he's in a nice home now.

I don't know if it has anything to do with my childhood, but I'm pretty easy to get along I think.  I had two rules for my significant others, and those have never changed.  Don't ever think I will give up my dogs or my motorcycle.

My parents gave away my dog (two different dogs, two different times) when I was a kid and while it didn't traumatize me, it has made having dogs all the more precious. I made darn tootin sure my own kids had a dog growing up, and I feel bad for my younger siblings, because even the short time I had those dogs as a kid** were so important and so wonderful to me-- they totally missed out on how dogs can enrich your life.
Once I had a stable place to live, I got my own dogs. One always slept inside on a floofy bed, my second takes his security role very seriously and is miserable if he can't be outside on patrol. I cannot see ever living without a dog in my life again.

(first dog, I was maybe 8 and one of my father's army buddies thought it would be cool to give me a puppy. Things were already too much for my mother with a newborn and a recently-arrived elderly relative, the puppy was the last straw and was rehomed after a month or two. the second time they got a rottweiler pup which was fabulous but the dog and my sister could not get along; professional dog training help [or psych help, for that matter] was not a thing back then and the dog went back to the breeder. My poor parents did the best they could with what they had.)

Trace Oswald wrote:

elle sagenev wrote:Apparently my husband had to give away a dog when he was a child because of various problems with it. Fast forward we had a great pyr that had an intense hate for our st Bernard. Trainers couldn't solve the problem and the fighting was intense. When I became pregnant and was caught in the middle of a fight I declared the pyr had to go. Huge issue for my husband because of that one dog when he was a kid. We did give it to a great rescue and I hear he's in a nice home now.

I don't know if it has anything to do with my childhood, but I'm pretty easy to get along I think.  I had two rules for my significant others, and those have never changed.  Don't ever think I will give up my dogs or my motorcycle.

I suspect you'd change your mind when your super preggo wife had a dog bite after getting caught in the middle. They were both great dogs, they just couldn't live together. It wasn't healthy for the dogs or us. And if CPS took our infant if they happened to get caught in a dog fight, well he'd get to choose the dog or us. Thankfully never came to that.

My poor father growing up, would work all week, and then my mother would give him a list of all the things she wanted done on the weekend. For 75 years, that poor guy has never done what he ever wanted to do; it either had to fit with what my Mom wanted, or it just was not going to happen. (He got the silent treatment from my passive-aggressive mother if he tried).

So I vowed never to live my life like that. I am insanely self-motivated, and even on my days "I get nothing done"...I get things done. Like today I wanted to cut wood, but it rained, so I worked on our new bathroom, taking out a door and filling the wall with drywall, insulation and sheathing boards. To me that is not much, but it is progress...so as I said, I am self-motivated.

But my second wife Patty...she gave me a Honey To Do List once...once...and if I had got a half inch closer she would have been blowing bits of paper out the south end as she faced north I tell you. I have warned ALL my wives (yes 3 of them) to NEVER give me a Honey To Do List...it will get done, but on my time, all because of watching my Mom manipulate my dad.

Growing up we kept having lambs come up amongst the missing. We always blamed coyotes or fox, but one day we watched our Dalmatian start across the field with a lamb in his mouth. My grandfather told my Grandmother to fetch the rifle. The dog never made it to the edge of the field. I was 5 when I watched that happen.

I know it can be hard for some people, and understandably so, but I have put down all my own dogs when the time came.

My parents were caring and provided well, but they were both horrible listeners.  They still are.  Dad came from a "children should be seen and not heard" mentality, and he still apparently feels that way even though his 5 children are all in their 50's or 60's.  Mom was loving, but again, a terrible listener.  Even to this day, she'll be quiet only long enough to think of the next thing she wants to say.

In response, I've found myself working very hard to be a different kind of parent and a different kind of spouse.  I've learned to be a better listener.  We ask our kids, "How are you doing? and work hard to give them all the space they need to respond to that question.  The kids are now in their early 20's and the conversations we have with them are so rich.  Every time I walk away from one of those great conversations with my son or daughter, I feel it nurturing that inner child that wanted to be listened to myself so many years ago.

Ah, childhood.  Mom was the disciplinarian but made sure we all know how to cook, preserve, clean, sew, garden, and whatever else she could think of. Boy or girl didn't matter.

Dad was the fix-it guy. He never explained what or why he was doing something but you better pay attention because it might be your job next time. That could include electrical wiring, plumbing, or framing the room we were adding on. Or finding out where that part he brought home went on the car.

He also never told us "no, you can't do that". His phrase was "If you're gonna be stupid, you better be tough". That will make you think things through before you try them. For instance, he used to bring home those big wooden spools that wire came on. Did you know if you take out all the center wood except for the three pieces that cover the metal that holds them together, you can brace yourself inside and roll all the way down Devil's Hill? By the way, the 2nd trip down broke the barbed wire fence at the bottom. Yes, we had to fix it.
As a result, we all grew up not being afraid to try new things, or new ways of doing old things.

Thanks, Dad and Mom!

Mum’s side were city-folk and much older than me so, rather unfortunately, didn’t have a lot to do with them. However, Dad’s side of the family were old fashioned farmers – good horsemen, hand milked cows twice daily, ran poultry and pigs, had farm dogs and cats, etc.

Thankfully, both sides had similar values – one had the farm, animals and veggies/fruit, the other grew veggies/fruit but also show-winning flowers in a suburban mixed garden.

Mum and Dad were the best parents most could hope for – well-rounded as individuals that worked together in a true partnership.

All our annual holidays were taken on the Grandparents farm and nearby beaches.

Life revolved around taking care of animals because they took care of the people – either by way of feeding the family, providing a service and, on rare occasions, an income.

So, their principle was to give animals the best life they could experience before slaughter, throughout their lives treat them as family with kindness and dignity. The animals always got fed and looked after first thing in the morning before the humans, and likewise at night.

The WW1, The Great Depression and WW2 had profound effects on them – although never rich in a money sense, they had material wealth in the farm, so sharing food with more unfortunate people (local families and swagmen in search of work) was an important thing. Also, learning not to be push-overs in a fight – verbal or otherwise. It’s a peculiar thing: the toughest men I’ve known where also the gentlest – they could spend the day cane-cutting/branding cattle/slaughtering livestock, then come home, make a sponge cake or scones, bath the kids and sing them to sleep!

Consequently, we were raised with similar values. Besides the moral duty, happy animals produce high quality goods, and in regards to work animals, reciprocate with hard work and affection – loyalty.

One rule of thumb though: as Dad said, ‘there’s no pets in the chook yard’. In other words: never make a pet out of an animal destined to be food.

Those were and are the realities of life, and haven’t changed with us.

Being bullied both at school and at home made me guarded.

Overhearing my parents' money woes led me to try growing my own food at an early age. It also made me frugal, which has helped a lot!

Realizing that my dad had been spraying pre-emergent weedkiller on things he knew I was about to pick and eat, made me paranoid about both my food and my health.

Having my projects hijacked by family members who insisted they were "helping" made it hard for me to accept help when its offered.

Watching my mother stay calm in a crisis, when people around her were freaking out, taught me that the best time for hysterics is AFTER you've dealt with the problem. You can freak out when you're safe.

Being a picky eater made me a good cook at a young age. My mother knew I was stubborn enough to starve rather than eat something I couldn't stand. We found out later that what we'd dismissed as pickiness was actually mild allergies and food intolerances. As a small kid, I didn't know how to explain the broccoli made me feel like I was about to throw up, or mushrooms made my stomach hurt. But, instead of butting heads about it, mom laid down the rule that she would cook one meal for everybody, and if I wanted something else, I had to cook it myself. I ate a lot of canned soup for a while, but by 12 I was cooking 3-course meals from scratch.

the best time for hysterics is AFTER you've dealt with the problem.  

This is something I was taught all the time I was growing up, it is a science truth as far as I'm concerned.
In any disaster it is those who keep their heads and just handle the problems as they come without any fuss or freaking out that are the heroes.
Keeping a cool head while everything around you turns upside down is a learned response that will keep you and those you can help alive through the crisis.
Once it is over you can go have that breakdown you just earned.

It is so true, the best time for hysterics is after everything is taken care of. I'm very good at crises. During a recent one, a friend asked me if I could cope. My response was that I didn't have a choice, the crisis wasn't going to go away because I couldn't cope, nevermind how much I wish it would. It's the in-between crises that took me years to master.

Bryant RedHawk wrote:

the best time for hysterics is AFTER you've dealt with the problem.  

Keeping a cool head while everything around you turns upside down is a learned response that will keep you and those you can help alive through the crisis.


.......Once it is over you can go have that breakdown you just earned.

I've never heard of it put this way, but I like it!  It recognizes the impact of trauma on all people, varied though it may be within each individual, and validates a need to cycle through a grief/melt-down and subsequent recovery period.  

Home-run again, RedHawk!