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I Remember
I Remember
I Remember
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I Remember

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The book offers an unexpected point-blank view of the other side of parenting. Sometimes, the pitfalls are more than we bargain for. The first book of its kind, it may be one of the best considerations in the child decision-making process. It opens the floor for a better future.

I Remember is a poignant memoir that lays bare many of today’s more popular misconceptions about parenting. With personal examples included, this book is about as direct and in-your-face as you can get. I Remember is strongly recommended if you have a child on the way.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateDec 14, 2018
ISBN9781532062346
I Remember
Author

Damien Cross

Damien Cross lives on Planet Earth.

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    I Remember - Damien Cross

    Copyright © 2018 Damien Cross.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse

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    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-5320-6233-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5320-6234-6 (e)

    iUniverse rev. date: 11/20/2018

    Contents

    Foreword

    A Brief Beginning

    The Psychology Behind It All

    The Plunge

    Foreword

    I don’t pretend to have all the answers. Your life is your life. The very best path, in my opinion, is the natural one to each of us as individuals. It is not my intention to validate any wrong-doings or drudge excuses for anyone’s past or future actions. What is disturbing is the lack of psychological advancement among the general public. To be quite frank, the closer I look, the more depressed I get. The only way I might be able to make you really see the world around you for what it is, is to tell you what I know and how I came to know it.

    I will forgo politeness and proper, social etiquette in my writing because this book is as much for me as it is for you. It is my belief that presenting this in simple, layman’s terms will be the best course of action. Alas, I fear the outcome will be more pain for me than benefit in the long run. I’ve decided I’m willing to take that risk and push forward. What bothers me the most, is having to appear a hypocrite by using a pseudonym, but I’ve been seriously advised to do so. After all is said and done, I will ultimately reveal my entire, naked truth to the world.

    Many parents overlook the psychological affects that plague their children. Seeds of anti-social and negative thought processes are planted during Moments that mean nothing to the parents, yet can change the course of a child’s life in an instant. Bringing these possible Moments to life through my own story may help others to avoid them. That is the basis for this work.

    Example: A boy child is 3 years of age. In his over-crowded toy box is a doll. A human, baby-doll. He becomes accustomed to sleeping with said doll. He inadvertently rubs his crotch against it in a bear-hug, and it feels good. Then this child develops a secret. His very first secret is that he rubs his little penis against something soft, which just happens to be a baby doll. At this point, what the doll is is simply soft. It won’t be until much later in life that he equates the memory of rubbing against a baby doll, with feeling sexually aroused and then appeased by this doll. Now the doll has a human face and the mind is extremely tricky. A stuffed giraffe probably wouldn’t have been that bad. This is a good way for a baby molester to develop. Be aware of what your children are up to. By all means, let them develop sexually on their own and allow them to believe no one is aware. Let them have their secrets, just be aware of them.

    The world is in chaos. We are in chaos. The mixed illusions of control and necessity are destroying humankind. There are answers to be found and a way of life much more fulfilling if, and when, society ever decides to cast off old habits. These habits seem minimal and innocent at best, yet they are the cornerstone of a crippled society. Will things change in time? Well, when asked what a person’s plan is after a devastating natural disaster claims their home because they live smack dab in the middle of where these incidents happen on a continuous basis, the response is usually, Oh, we’re gonna rebuild… Does that answer the question?

    Did you know that the hurricanes in Florida are all because of Gay Days? What are tornados from in the Midwest? Sheep sex? Let me go ahead and get this straight right now; Gay people have existed for hundreds of thousands of years. Why? Because it’s a natural occurrence. Just because you don’t want it to be, doesn’t mean it isn’t. Your personal desires don’t reflect fact. You can either accept the truth or not. In other words, you’re allowed to be wrong. Go for it.

    The intended expression here is a good understanding of where my mind was at as a child so others can benefit from that knowledge. Examples of my reactions emotionally and physically due to my state of mind during those specific times will hopefully afford society a better understanding of how parenting should actually work.

    A Brief Beginning

    My maternal grandmother was a dancer along with her mother in a side show at James E. Strates Carnival in the 1940s. It wasn’t because they were malformed in any way, but because they were beautiful. For the time, it was risqué. Her mother was German by birth and her father was Native American. My maternal grandfather was from Sicily; Roberto ‘Pompeiio’. It was well known that Al Capone didn’t like Sicilians, but he liked my grandfather enough to have him as a messenger boy in Chicago when he was around 14 or so. His father was from Sicily and his mother was from Florence. It was a flat out travesty at the time, seeing as how Italians and Sicilians have never really been friendly. His father decided he would move to Florence, as to absorb any of the social backlashes upon him instead of her.

    Grandpa ran one of the fairway rides. He met Gran one day at a show when he was around 31. She was 19 or 20 at the time. Grandpa would show up for all her shows. One day he got up enough courage to approach her between sets. Gran said he was the perfect gentleman. She was very flattered by his interest in her. He brought her a cup of coffee to sip on, though he had no idea she hated coffee. She held the cup for warmth due to the day’s chill until he finally said, Are you going to drink your coffee? She did take a drink, thinking that the thought was sweet enough to kill the bitter taste. My mother was born in Newark.

    On my paternal side, Grandma’s parents were awesome people with big hearts. In that line, I believe I’m related to both the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s. On my paternal grandfather’s side, there is royal blood from Ireland. I’m also a descendent of Benjamin Franklin. I’m not thoroughly impressed with that one because he was a horn-dog and probably had a shit-ton of offspring in an assortment of colors. Hell, even you could be a relative.

    I was born in December in Florida to parents who married on April Fool’s Day of the same year. The marriage didn’t last long. They were young and hadn’t really lived before I showed up. Both of my parents remarried within a couple of years afterward. In the interim, they fought over me. The court gave me to my Dad’s parents for safe keeping until everything was sorted out. Mom started seeing a guy that wanted to help the situation by going to my grandparent’s house and demanding that I be given to my Mom. Dad was called and he showed up to handle the situation, but things had already gotten out-of-hand in a physical way and grandpa had already fought the guy and won.

    My grandparents decided that no child should be kept from its mother and handed me over. Mom married the new guy and had my first brother. Not long after, Dad married again and had my sister, Elicia, who tragically died from SIDS. He tells of paramedics having to pry her from his arms after he found her. His wife had a breakdown and subsequently left him. My father was born in Flint and

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