I help out in Early Childhood Education class.  I scanned in pages to do with infant, toddler and preschool emotions.  Each page had a red box declaring if the emotional needs are not met it may cause mental health problems for the rest of their lives.  The words, “No Shit,” come to mind.  Sadly, no where in the reading is the remedy for those early year deficiencies.  I read in one book that childhood trauma has no impact in later years.  The example they gave was a child breaking a toy forgets it before the day is over so little or no impact later in life.  I would counter with a child being told they wouldn’t be fed more because the food was seconds for someone else.  How does a child cope with the understanding, you are not worth feeding?  Yes, it stuck with me and yes I struggle with obesity.  Go figure.  The down side of reading so much information is it gets depressing to realize how much I missed out on as a child.  Even sadder when I think of how I messed up with my children.  This is all being warped and bent by the current challenges I am facing with aging parents.  The nurse was trying to console me while talking about the probability that my mother may have dementia.  She told me, “It is so hard to loose your mother.”  I replied flatly, “I never had one.”  Through her own traumatic childhood and refusing to recognize or try to change she passed on the trauma to the next generation.  One generation abusing the next one.  Hard thing for me to live with some days.  I know I messed up.  However, my daughter is under strict instructions if I ever become mean and nasty, lock me up and throw away the key. I am still in contact with my parents.  I realize my brother and I may become their guardians; which my mother has trained me to do since I was a little girl.  She wants me to take care of her including spoon feeding her and jumping to do her every whim.  In her eyes, I am not a person but a way to get her needs met.  I don’t stay in contact and care for my mother because of her behavior, I do this because of who I am.  Her behavior is a moot point.