The Meanist Mom in the World

The Meanist Mom in the World

My son, . . . do not forsake the law of your mother. (Proverbs 6:20)

I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.

But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.

My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less, --not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.

We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?

The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept, my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, and learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.

She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us, and it nearly did.

By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there? I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.

Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hangnail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.

As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us were put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a dropout. My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out?

You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.

Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean.

Because, you see, I thank God; He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.

This is the original copy of "Meanest Mother" written by Bobbie Pingaro (1967)

Can anyone relate to this? I hope so. I don't intend that to sound cruel, but this world needs more no-nonsense mothers who are all about raising their children in a godly home. Moms are put on this earth to accomplish the highest responsibility on earth. Is that to make lots of money and attain great status? I don't think so. They are given the high calling to mold and shape their children to be "God-fearing, educated, honest adults".

As I sit here and write this, you should know that growing up, I felt that my mom (and dad for that matter) were pretty strict as well- and today I can proudly look back and thank God everyday for the wise and Christ-like upbringing that she and my father gave me.

Does anyone have the perfect mom? Probably not. They make mistakes just like anyone else- but that's not the point. This weekend is a reminder that we are to honor our mothers and obey her teachings just like we would obey God.

The Bible promises that if we keep the instruction of our parents, then most likely life will go well.

Ephesians 6:1-3 says, Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother" -- which is the first commandment with a promise that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.

There's nothing magical about this, it's just common sense. Your mom has been around the block just a few more times than you have, so she probably knows what she's talking about. Most of the big bone-headed mistakes we make are a direct result of ignoring what our parents taught us- if you don't believe me, just think back to the last time you pulled something that could have nominated you for the Darwin Awards.

So perhaps you feel you have a 'mean' mom? My advice would be to be thankful for the relationship you were given- because there are plenty of folks out there who longer have a chance to thank their mothers.