How was your upbringing?
 

My own story pretty boring. Two parents, small town, public school. Not really why I decided to post. Just wondering if anybody else had one as er, interesting as this one from a pool site I visit. The thread chatting about players now gone.

"I really miss John. We usually talked once a week or so, regaling one another with stories. Of course, he had a ton. Mine were more about growing up in The City. I was put in catholic school and my mom ran three topless bars on Broadway."

Small town Presbyterian... Not sure it could get more boring, but I didnt get into much trouble.

Pretty much the same for me, however the boring I think was good. I was raised in northern Ohio.

It forced me to use my imagination. I lived on a 220 acre golf course, the nearest neighbor was 2 miles away (houses did not line the various fareways.)

I would reenact famous WW2 Pacific theater battles using model planes, the blue plastic boats Dairy Queen used for their banana splits, and anything else I could get my hands on.

In the winter we made snow caves and ice skated.

No internet, video games, or cell phones but plenty to come up with to do.

Probably the best time I’d my life.

Terrible.

Explains why I'm such an arsehole.

My father was a crazed alcoholic. He had phenomenal amount of money so he could maintain an upper middleclass lifestyle and appearance. But at home he was beating his wife and little boy. I was brought up to believe I was the most evil person on earth. Up until the age of eight I was stepping in to fistfight my father to protect my mother. My mom decided it was time to leave when I pulled a gun on my father LOL

He also had two psychology degrees so he also knew how to get inside the head of people he hated (my mother and me) to really hurt them as well as the daily/weekly beatings.

Kids who grew up in a warzone had it rough but at least the other guy wore a different uniform. Me, I had to keep it quiet so the neighbours and friends didn't know. Their opinion of us was more important than the well being of the little boy.

Please excuse the vile rant but over the last five years I thought it was time not to keep the family's dirty little secret a secret anymore.

That's hard to read Bill .... glad you rose above it and thanks for sharing!

Me .... great, hard working, parents (ultra religious and pretty strict), a city boy with plenty of time spent "in the country" on both sides of the family. No TV, killed more of my friends playing Army and Cowboy & Indians, than I care to remember ... all the freedom and range that my Schwinn could provide :).

They taught me values and by example .... didn't turn out any better than Bill did tho...

A fantastic upbringing here ... my faults ... I learned away from home :D

Interesting backgrounds. Bill D you have my sympathy. I cannot imagine anything so bad as that.
Yes I had a good upbringing. My mother was tough, outspoken but fair. My father was a Lancaster pilot in WW2. He did two tours of operations but at the end of the war he suffered delayed shock reaction aka a nervous breakdown. I was born in 1946 so was not aware of anything different but my older sister did. I went to boarding school at age nine and continued until I was sixteen. My father bought a garage at the end of WW2. He sold mostly British Leyland cars. Morris, Austin and employed several mechanics. My mother was the bookkeeper. I loved those days.

When I was about thirteen he sold the business and we moved to southern England. He semi retired and my mother went to work as a nurse and later joined Welcome Wagon. My dad died of cancer age 52. He was a heavy smoker. My mother lived till age 94 and never remarried. Yes I loved my upbringing despite everything.

Cheers, Guy.

Grew up in a 100% Greek American household. Life circle around family and religion. My parents didn't trust the outside world that wasn't Greek. "They are not us" and "the only friends you have are the presidents in your pocket" I was told. I'm 73 yrs old and I still remember those words. You grow up with this defensive mentality - I never had friends, didn't date in HS and most of college. Relationships were hard to make. Worked in family businesses from the time I was 12 to 20. Abused verbally (negative motivation), I didn't have allot of self worth.

My world changed during my last 2 years of college - I really absorbed different people and cultures. It took a very long time and allot of help to understand what I experienced. A big takeaway was this worked for my parents: trying to adjust and they were guarded - it didn't work for me.

I get how your parents can have a negative effect on you, even when they think they are doing the right thing. Glad things are working out better for you.

We lived in a rural grocery store until I was 4, then lived on a farm until I was 13, when Dad went to work in a foundry. I have a brother one year younger than me, a sister 8 years younger, and a baby brother 13 years younger.

Outwardly my folks were clean, sober, model parents. My dad came home from work every day, brought the paycheck home every week, and we always had adequate food, clothing, and shelter.

But they were indifferent parents. I don’t think they really wanted kids. They didn’t even name my brother and I; our names were chosen for us by friends of theirs. But raising a family is what everyone did in those days, so they did too, and I think they believe they did it well by their standards. We never wanted for material things, but we were pretty much ignored otherwise. I was so envious of my cousin. His mom put his schoolwork on the fridge and tacked his artwork to a wall. When I brought home something from school, a drawing or some such, it lied on a table until it was pushed into the trash. My dad wanted me to play high school football, but never taught me a damn thing about the game. I was a mediocre player, which disappointed him I’m sure, but I would have been better if I he had spent some time with me showing me how to play.

My folks did teach us the value of hard work and responsibility. They were perfect examples of those virtues. My dad told me, “You are going to go to college. I don’t know how you are going to pay for it, but you are going to go to college.” I did, it took six years to work my way through engineering school. My siblings were all smart enough to get scholarships.
Our family has been in Ohio since 1739 and I was the second one to graduate from college. My brother was the first, beat me by a year.

In the 21st Century people would say my siblings and I are “on the spectrum.” I hate social situations and I don’t make friends. I have friends, but every single one of them chose me and I don’t know why. If they didn’t call or visit, I would likely never see or talk to them again. I just don’t reach out. I’ve been thinking of going to a social event later this month and I’m already getting nervous.

I didn’t marry until I was 43 and that didn’t last 3 years. My sister has been married 3 times, my brother never married. I don’t know what happened to my baby brother, he married and raised a family like a normal American, but I was a teenager when he was born, and I don’t know what growing up in the family was like for him.

I am so grateful for Vicki, who has been with me for over 20 years and has learned to live with a person who is often “not there.”

Sorry for the long autobiography. I’ve been sitting here with a heating pad on my back since 3 AM with nothing else to do.

Mine was a "Leave it to Beaver" childhood. Dad was an Air Force pilot, and we moved a lot. I went to 11 different schools in my 12 years of schooling. I never even once worried about where I would sleep or eat. Well, except for mom cooking liver and onions. Belch. I was in Hawaii when it became a state.

I never once saw my parents in a serious argument. No screaming and yelling like almost every TV show or movie. Their big argument was if Paprika had a taste, or was just a color for foods.

I was shy as a 2nd grade kid, and had no friends. I still remember the light bulb moment when we were moving again. I decided being shy was stupid, and my first day at a new school I walked up to group of boys and introduced myself, and I had dozens of friends after that. None were lifetime friends, as we moved again. My wife has friends to this day that she went to grade school with. I learned back then that making friends is easy.

I was super lucky and had great parents. We were never rich as a family growing up as far as money, but we were super rich as far as having a great home life. My parents were married for 54 years before mom died.

Mostly free-range in a small town.

Not much to say. Born in the fifties, raised in a small-ish "city" (Boise) with all the Americana a fella or fellette could ask for in the '60's and '70's. I had a paper route, a Schwinn Sting Ray, and a handful of friends that I saw every single day, most often all day. I tried my hand at the usual things, sports, music, but never really found my talent with the exception of being able to grind it out when it came to working a job.

4 brothers and sisters, I'm a middle kid. My dad had no business having that many kids emotionally or financially, but mom insisted on raising us Catholic and birth control was a "sin", so, you know, "Gods will." :rolleyes: I guess dad's drinking problem was "Gods will" too. He managed to work that out eventually, but the family dynamic made my formative years a trial. I'll let it go at that. I don't wallow in the past but I'm aware of my cynical outlook and I try and keep it to myself the best I can

I'm 65, retired, I reckon I can survive on what I squirreled away unless something radical happens, and I have some good friends that like to see me and I like them.

Two alcoholic parents in a small/medium sized western WA town. Adopted at birth with one younger sister. My parents were at their cores, good loving people who struggled with sobriety. My Dad finally got sober when I was about done with high school. He always kept his job though. Two DUI wrecks that both ended him up in the hospital and jail briefly. If he did that today, it may have ended very differently for him. Luckily nobody else hurt. My Mom had gotten sober a few years prior. We were loved, not beaten, but often alone and constantly on watch for which Dad would show up. The drunk or the angry one. He did have a temper, worse when sober. Never laid a hand on us though. It could have been way worse.

I really appreciate the courage to tell your stories. I participated in a men's group 24 yrs ago that was a life changing experience for me. Every story I heard had a ripple affect on me. I wasn't alone in my life's journey. I'm experiencing that same ripple reading your posts. Thank you for sharing.

As I have mentioned before, my family was the poster for "Madmen." I swear the writers knew my dad, the Don Draper of the series. The only thing they left out of the script was the country club. My parents were not a good match and they stayed together too long, until I was 18. I left, been on my own ever since and repudiated country clubs, business social clubs and pretty much all things that many consider to be community status.

I've worked as a construction contractor for the majority of my life and have worked for every kind of person including people who had leaking Harley's in their living room to people living on the golf course in Beverly Hills.

Generally, people are pretty good on the surface but you really don't want to know more. So hanging out is not my style. Get in and get out is. That includes every personal relationship. There are a couple of exceptions, my 2nd wife now of 42 years being first and foremost. My family is extinct at my death. Hers goes on and on and even she is cutting ties.

The people that I get along with the best have labored long and hard for the same cross section that I have. We have stories. We generally see people for who they are. I don't associate with liars, cheats, thieves or adulterers. One chance.

Everyone gets a nickname that loosely describes them. That's probably the biggest source of humor in my life.

Wonderful, often heart wrenching thread. Thank you all. Very insightful.

I was very fortunate, almost absurdly so, with my parents and extended family.

That said, my oldest sister, brilliant in ways that I could never be, angry in ways I have never been, an emotional lummox in ways I hope I never am, was raised in the exact same environment my other sister and I were and she was never just happy.

It is not always the parents.

When my father died, his wish was to be interned at West Point with my mother, who died and was cremated years before. Her ashes are at my house because my father knew I would make it work. I was the Executor of his Will.

West Points policy is that the oldest surviving child must agree to adding a wife/significant other to the interment site.

Initially, my oldest sister agreed then decided, with malice, that her/our mother and father would remain apart, regardless of the Will. I had not spoken to my oldest sister in over a decade plus.

I tried again a few months ago, eight years after my father's passing. I had not spoken to her since she denied the Will's request...twice in 20 plus years.

She got mad at me.

Sometimes a parents best, I was there, is not enough.

Poor family on the west side of Chicago in the 60s is what I recall. Not much interesting to say about that. A lot I could say, but nothing interesting.

My mom and dad were German along with my older brother . I was born in the US . We were typical middle class my dad worked for IBM . Mom was a stay at home mom . She was affectionate my dad was the classic stoic German with minimal emotions . He only hit me once , after that I realized getting hit by hands the size of a catchers mitt was not a good thing . Mom yelled occasionally but not that often . They were good parents .

I had a circle of friends up through high school but after that lost touch as I was busy working . My brother and I were as close as can be for a 12 year difference in age . My mom and dad are gone :( but my brother is still alive . He lives in NY and I live in Georgia . We see each other 1-2 times a year . Overall I wouldn't change anything about my childhood .

Our upbringing as boomers was different than many of the generations before. They sometimes couldn't change anything. Big difference.

After the boomer generation even more options, and so on. The multi family unit is basically dead.

Yea, kids today can't imagine the freedom on no cell phones. We got home from school, and rode off on our bikes until 6:30 when dinner served. As as that was done, be home before the street light come on. My parents had no idea where were were, or what we were doing.

We've all heard the proverb, “shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.” This assumes that the next 2 generations are actually involved with whatever source the original money was made. I think what I want to say is that offspring don't follow in the family footsteps so much anymore.

This is certainly true with me, but the difference is I didn't show any interest in the family advertising business. I'm not a suit, never was and never will be. The most suits I have had at one time is one. Weddings and funerals. Nowadays most don't even wear suits to those occasions — depending on social status, of course.

OTOH, my dad had 20 at any given time and most were custom tailored. Same with his dress shirts. I got mine at Penny's.

Interesting to read these, and some sad of course. Can't really imagine growing up in anything but a nurturing environment.

My childhood was about as nurturing and positive as I think possible. For that I will alwys be greatful.

My father was an eccentric cardiologist, that wore cowboy hats and smoked cigars, and drove a janky pickup (before this was common) while having porsches rotting in the driveway. He was interested in everything, flying, art, working on things, playing instruments, heathkit stuff etc. I was tag along on most of these endevors. He had built a bizzaro double dome house we grew up in the mid west. My mom was extrodinarily high energy and always involved in all the kids activities. We often had foster kids in the house and eventually a new brother by adoption.

We were/are jewish but not particularly devout. We all love bacon.

Wow. This is something I struggle with.

Even explaining is a challenge.

On reflection, it seems my dad and brother are on the autism spectrum.

My mom was amazing and nurturing when I was a child but is very much a narcissist today.

We never missed a meal but I did miss having a father who was a positive figure. I begged my mom over 1000 times to divorce him. He was really a jerk. I recall being 4 years old and something switched in him. He was a pretty big ass ever after until just recently.

Fast forward, my folks are in their late 80’s now. Still married. I don’t hate my father as much. In fact, I love them. But, I have boundaries that I enforce. And while I am the gregarious speaker in my family, I refuse to speak at my father’s service when he dies. Not so much out of spite as not wanting to perpetuate a lie.

I think/hope I am mostly moved on from this. I adore my family. I have a great relationship with my in-laws. I don’t let this poison my life.

But I mourn not having the father that I wanted / needed. And, don’t bother saying I should try to patch things up. We are waaaay past that one.

Thank you all for your stories and your bravery to tell them.

I beheld my first appreciation for the meaning of dysfunctional family when my older brother by two years jumped on our father’s back to prevent him from stabbing our mother with a fork. I was in second grade at the time.

It’s a bit unclear but I can still see torn hosiery flecked with blood and one shoe standing in the corner of the kitchen.

Then it got bad.

Homelessness and cheap hotels were involved.

But they stayed together till death parted them. By the time each had passed, my father had shown me that redemption must be achieved; my mother, that forgiveness is a virtue.

So I think I was brought up right.

Second-generation American. Parents on both sides from China. My parents met in graduate school in New York and quickly married so that my mother could stay in the US. They weren’t a good fit and divorced when I was five. My mother initially gave my dad custody of me, then changed her mind and at the court hearing the judge ordered my dad to hand me over. My earliest memory is my dad running to me, crying, as I stood surrounded by people in some big official building. My next memory is us running through an airport, because my father took me and fled the country, to France where he had a mathematics post-doc job offer. We lived in France for three years, my father was at some university and my grandmother came to take care of me in our apartment in Paris. Grandma never learned French but I did, so I had the run of the city. At seven years old I’d take a pocketful of Metro tickets and go everywhere in Paris; there’s not an arrondissement I haven’t explored, and although I don’t remember too much I’ll sometimes turn a corner and realize I’ve been there before. After Paris we lived in Strasbourg and then a little town in Southern France. Then we moved to Vancouver B.C., where my father had found another academic job out of the reach of US law. Eventually I was sent to live with my grandparents in New Jersey. So imagine a kid who has moved to a new place every year, changing school systems and countries, no friends he’s known for more than a year or so, basically a latchkey child, mostly reading and drawing and building models and watching TV alone. If he goes out to ride his bike or play in the vacant lot, he usually does it alone. He’s precocious, speaks multiple languages, has read everything in sight, was taught calculus before he was nine, so he gets pushed up a grade each time he moves, and by the time he’s in high school he’s only ten years old, and its a ****ty violent high school in 1970s Northern New Jersey just a chemical plume away from Newark, and, oh yea, he’s a little Chink with glasses who lives with his grandparents. I remember New Jersey in black and white. Then I moved to Los Angeles to join my father who by then had changed careers from mathematics to aerospace, designing submarine guidance systems, air-to-air missiles (AIM-54, anyone?), and antitank missiles (TOW, anyone?). L.A. was incredible, every day was sunny, everyone was blonde, they were all friendly, it was like being reborn. I ran cross country and learned to play tennis well enough to be on the high school’s JV team. But I didn’t like half my high school classes, and refused to attend them, supported by my dad who didn’t see the point of those classes either. The school suspended me and there was a stand-off, which was broken when I dropped out and started college at UCLA. I didn’t connect with UCLA kids at all, spent all my time alone studying physics and feeling bad. After a year I transferred to UC Berkeley, and Berkeley in the 70s was a place where anyone could fit in, so another re-birth. Lots of drinking, drugs, skiing, hanging out, and I switched to mathematics which I liked better than physics (or maybe it was just easier) but ultimately not enough to make it a career, so I became a lawyer. That’s about the end of the upbringing story, and looking back it wasn’t one I’d wish on any kid, so I made sure my kids were brought up completely differently - stable family, full time mother, pets, plenty of travel abroad but always returned to school in the US, no skipping grades, close friends they’ve known most of their lives, lots of art and writing and not too much mathematics. I didn’t push them into a field or pressure them to follow me (you think I actually wanted to learn all that math when I was little?) I guess someday they’ll dish on their upbringing, but I did my best, as my dad did.

My parents' motto was: Children are to be seen and not heard. My father was not interactive and would ignore me. If I tried to talk to him about something, he would stare straight ahead and say nothing. I remember being at a friends house during elementary school, and my friend was conversing with his father. I was amazed at how they interacted. My mother was capricious in her treatment of me and my little sister. Both were very negative toward things we wanted to do and never encouraging. We moved to CA in the mid to later 40s and moved around quite a lot. My father lost his business while I was in high school, and I contributed to the family's support my last two years in high school working four nights a week, while trying to keep up appearances and maintain participation in school & sports. When they were old, they never expressed any positivity when I would visit them. I just chocked it up to "different strokes for different folks."

I read/heard somewhere that the greatest gift you can give a kid is a childhood they don't need to recover from.

Interesting stories from all of you.

I didn't realize till I became an adult that everybodies family wasn't the same as ours. So many people I know are estranged from their parents or siblings.

My parents were married for 50 years when my father died. I never once saw them fight or even really argue with each other. Some of my fondest memories are of me laying in bed as a child and hearing them talking and laughing thru the shared wall. Their relationship really shaped the kind of relationship I wanted to have with my wife. As a child, I could feel that they really enjoyed each other's company. I finally got it right the second time...

My parents were pretty social, but I've never seen either of them drunk. Their only vice was smoking, but those were the times and my dad picked it up when he went to Vietnam. They both had quit by the time I was in high-school

My father was a career military man and my early years we lived on a army base in Alaska. I loved Alaska, great memories of camping and exploring the outdoors. When my Dad transferred to Fort Lewis Washington. My parents purchased a home in a suburb of Portland, which is where a big part of my dad's side of the family was from. My dad would come home on the weekends. I lived there till I joined the military and haven't lived in Oregon since. But for better or worse, ill always be an Oregonian at heart.

My wife always says I had a perfect childhood and quite frankly it was pretty darn good.

I got my love of travel and adventure from my parents, I got my love of cars from my parents. My youger sister and I have a great relationship and it we think so much alike sometimes its scary. She also had a great relationship with my parents.

My two best friends in the world are guys I've known since the 7th grade and my sophomore year in high-school. There is just something great about friends that you go way back with.

My parents always supported and encouraged us in anything we wanted to do and if I'm being honest, I set the bar to low.

I joined the military after graduating high-school and never looked back. I've never borrowed a dime from my parents, but I've always known if Ive ever needed anything I could go to my parents.

To this day, the worse thing I could ever do is something to disappoint my parents.

A great thread ... thanks for sharing everyone!

This!!!!

Alcoholic father and all that came with that gift. Great guy when sober but a mean and nasty guy when drunk. And abusive, verbally and physically toward his family. As the oldest, I was the focal point of his wrath most of the time. The physical stuff stopped when I was 18 and put him on the kitchen floor with a right hand, then drove down the alley and cried my eyes out, knowing I had just hit my father and how screwed up that was. He finally quit drinking about 10 years before he died and white knuckled it the rest of his life, still unhappy but sober,

On his deathbed, I mentioned that we had not always seen eye to eye and he nodded, a tear in his eye. Then told him that he gave me the best education that a father could provide - taught me to stand on my own, to take responsibility for my actions and the value of hard work (by example). More tears and an. "I love you". A few more of those in the preceding years would have been nice to hear.

It took me years, but I have forgiven him. Plenty of shrink time to get there but a good place to be.

As I said in my previous post, dad was an Ari Force pilot. He mentioned once the best part of the job was going to the Officers club and drinking with fellow pilots. Very inexpensive booze provided at no markup. He had a drink at home regularly. He was never a mean drunk, just quiet.

I left to become an adult before he retired. My parents moved to Oklahoma City two years after I did to be closer to their parents. Dad drank a lot more, and at one point was drinking a quart of Gin every day. One day he saw himself in the full length mirror in the hall and asked himself who was that old man. He went to rehab and was sober until he died over 30 year later. He went back to college and got another degree to become a alcohol and drug councilor.

Long after his had died I heard from an aunt that said my grandfather was nicknamed Red because he would get drunk and mean, and get into fights at bars. Dad never mentioned any issues growing up, I don;t know if it was to shield me or if it never happened. I only remember grandpa as a neat grandparent that loved to raise vegetables in his one acre garden behind their house.

I have never cared for hard liquor. I do love beer. But at two beers a day I am far from a drunk.

Looking back, how would you liked to have been raised?
 

I think the question within the question is when and how you may have realized that maybe your life wasn't going the way that you may have thought it should.

There were several kids on my one block long street that didn't go through to the next block. We were in and out of all the neighbor's houses all the time. You would think that enabled observation as to how others lived, and it did. But one doesn't always see what's right there. I think I was oblivious other than a little childhood jealousy if someone got a new bike.

On the other thread, there were a few examples of alcohol induced behavior. I'm sure some of my childhood neighbors drank plenty while, of course, others did not. My parents drank a little beyond socially and smoked up a storm. It wasn't that subnormal. I'm sure I was totally unaware of what all the parents really thought of each other.

I lived in the same house from birth to age 16. Most of the neighbors didn't move away so it was pretty Beaver stable. Except for me, Dennis the Menace. I didn't know any better and received only the usual and mostly just punishment.

OK, that's the backstory. At one point things just fell completely apart. As an only child, all 3 of us went our separate ways, willingly or not. My mother went from being an upper middle class housewife with an education to waiting tables. I always knew how to work having mowed lawns, washed cars and windows, etc. So I was able to work and enjoyed work and that became a way of life.

I sorta knew how f***'d up my upbringing was when the apple cart turned over. Better than a lot of folks, I know that. But you know what, I seemed to have a lot of fun and I continued that life. But I did change my direction 180º and became someone completely different than what you would think. I did dirty jobs, my parents and local grandparents hired that work.

I think military service can be a turning point but I didn't have that opportunity. I wanted to, but it wasn't to be (a health issue). Maybe military or not, at 18 you become the person you are going to be.

Some went into the family business or similar. Others brought about the thought, "Where'd he come from?"

Funny how we reflect back on things. Looking back on my childhood and high school years, I realize that most of my then problems were self imposed. Back then, I'd have loved being a spoiled rich kid with powerful parents. I definitely needed time to grow up...

So, here I sit at age 80? Things I wish I'd done differently? You bet...there are regrets from the past. I think we all have those. But overall? I'm content...married to the woman who probably saved my life for nearly 49 years now, and living frugally, money worries are zilch. A nice home on a small acreage located on a road that goes nowhere...the only traffic being area farm equipment and people who live on it.

So, I'm thinking my youthful bad choices may have also been involved in this journey to being mostly content today.

Find myself wishing Cindy & I didn't have the medical issues we do...but that's a pretty common wish in our age group.

I am finding your stories to be both sobering and humbling.
I was born 9 months after my father's 50th birthday. Most of my siblings were starting their careers and families by the time I came along. I have one sister who is just 4 years older. She probably felt I was put on this earth to try her patience.
My parents had met at choir practice. My father had been raised by his mother, as his father had died of pneumonia when he was 9. I believe that was key to his temperament. My father was always soft spoken and self reliant. He was a small farmer, so if he needed anything, he either built it himself or purchased it used. He did after all, marry in 1930 and raise a family in the depression.
Both of my parents were active in the church, but never pushed their views on anyone. I do recall a new minister coming to my father for advice on how to connect with the small community in which we lived.
For the most part, I grew up 'free range'. A group of friends and I would jump on our bikes and range for miles on the roads or the woods trails.
I have fond memories of lying on an inner tube in the river, in under some raspberry bushes picking and eating raspberries to my heart's content.
Quite idyllic.

Best
Les

I wouldn’t change a thing. I still have all my friends from my youth within a 40 mile radius. Loyal to the core. We had some great times and adventures together in suburbia. Would I like to have cut out the bullying, yeah maybe. Makes for great stories 40 years later though.

Great question. Same house my entire childhood. Which is a significant advantage. We did the same for our kids. Really the only thing I would change is having a father who has more emotions than just anger.

I really can't complain about my childhood. My 2.5 year older brother was a bully, and mom and dad did little to discourage him. Finally when I was 16 I was close in size to him, and we had a big fight at home when my parents were gone. I won the fight, and after that no more bulling form him.

Dad travled all the time for the Air Force and we moved a lot, so family vacations were very rare, We did stop at neat places while driving cross country, but those were one day things.

All in all, I had a great childhood.

Filthy rich and spoiled rotten.

I could not possibly have been more fortunate with my choice of parents and my upbringing. I tell people pretty much every day that I am the luckiest guy they ever met, and it is the truth.

No - to me this is dumb to even reflect on this. I'm not jealous of the others because it does nothing for me. My focus is how to take care of and improve myself. Life is a journey, and nothing is perfect. It is how to overcome obstacles and life's challenges that makes you who you are. I'm ok with who I am. And the journey continues.

Having said this, if I could have a restart, I would like to not have to wear glasses. I have worn glasses from the age of 6. I also have tinnitus and hearing problems for as long as I remember. I would like live without constant ringing in my ears.