Sailing... my way

I'm turning into my mother. There is an old fashioned civility that is missing today, and I can't quite get over it. This isn't just about thank you notes or standing when someone comes into a room. This is something more subtle, and as much as I am not espousing to say that I am mother-of-the-year, I think I may be close.

I told my children that when they would leave my house that they would be gentlemen and a lady. I did my work. I reminded, cajoled, taught, tutored, reprimanded, and pleaded. I spent hours insisting on things that they find inane still, and even today I will remind my thirty-four-year-old son to take his hat off --->at Burger King. I have serious standards, which most people outside of this house are unaware, but I do. Even close friends of mine think I am a little ridiculous, and my paper-plate-at-holiday in-laws can't relate, even remotely. I've spent years making them feel uncomfortable too, because I do not care what anyone thinks. I am the maker of civil humans, and it is a very serious job that I take (um) seriously.

Mother would turn over in her grave now - I think it would by doing the Paso Doble or an Olympic-worthy Triple Walley pole vault of some sort.

My grandchildren will get the benefit of my being raised like Princess Grace. This sort of thing is driven by some bizarre osmosis that has the subtlety of a charm school bulldozer. I am not impressed by children who do not respect their elders, or their teachers. I am not inspired by babies who are precocious and sarcastic. It isn't cute. I've always told my children that although it seems silly, people later in life will like them better, and they will be more successful in their jobs and in social situations if they learn to be civil and well-mannered.

Today's parents are missing the boat, and I think they need to take a little ride on my sailing ship.

Do my kids think I am a massive pain in the ass still? Yes. Am I proud of that?

Damn straight.