Tag Archives: spanking

Feeling Kind of Sad Today (PG)

Not sure why but I’m feeling kind of sad today. I couldn’t stay for all of the Red Ribbon Don’t Use Drugs Day assembly even though Small really wanted me to. I got to the psychiatrist’s late and she wouldn’t lower my Lamictal dose even though I believe it is directly responsible for my poor word recall. She asked if there was any real reason to be anxious and I couldn’t think of one aside from being late. She told me not to worry about her, the waiting room (they call it the salon) was bursting anyway. That didn’t help.

I like her scale because it says I weigh 150 lbs. I actually weigh 178. I trust Weight Watchers more than the shrink’s office. I know I’m still a big girl and I look it. From behind I am told I have a cute butt. That’s nice to hear – I never had much of a butt before. It’s the gut I want to go away now.

Might be sad from title=”Single Dad Laughing” target=”_blank”>http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/you-just-broke-your-child.html Read it, and get back to me. The things he observes remins me so much of Dobson when he instructs parents to break their children’s “will” not their “spirit”. The way to do this, of course, is to beat them. If they do not improve, spank harder and more often. Usually desperate parents read this stuff and do it. There seems to be little concern about the ramifications of violence in their child’s home. A child who cannot be trusted to learn logically from her own mistakes doesn’t need more spankings. She definitely needs consequences to her actions, of course she would. But what logical consequence is there for a three year old to spilling food off her plate on the table? Is a spank reasonable? No, but I’ve seen a man do it. Is telling her to clean it up reasonable? Yes. Is punishing her for not getting the table immaculate? Because of the child’s age, in my opinion, the consequence is reminding them next time to be neater. Then, if she doesn’t do it, consider a more age-appropriate consequence. If she doesn’t comply, perhaps your demands are unreasonable? Consider this: Does it make that big of a deal to wipe up a table?

Dobson is an enemy to children and families. I know some friends, even readers here like what he has to teach. I respect their rights to decide how to raise their children, but I respect my own right to comment about Dobson. It’s not you, dear reader, that I have the problem with, it’s just with some of your choices. Dobson pits parents against their children, calling the poor little ones manipulative. A counselor I once respected recommended the Strong Willed Child to parents with children that weren’t perfect. When I spoke to him about it, specifically about giving it to a family we had established is abusive, he nodded at me indulgently. It would have been easy to commit murder, but I had no means in which to do it.

There are a barage of “Christian” family books, videos and CD about raising children. I read a bunch of them before I was even married. Children interest me. Unfortunately the books made cry. There was one that advocated spanking every time you get a chance, even newborn babies, with PVC pipes because they don’t leave marks like some other things might. Another guru wanted newborn babies to cry for forty-five minutes so they could learn to sleep and said that if you don’t do things his way you were going to have an unhappy family. All this talk about being able to “love them too much” repelled me. Lastly, I read that a man who said that he had never met a child under twelve who was happy who wasn’t spanked.

I knew I couldn’t have children if I had to raise them so punitively. I knew I couldn’t do it the way I was raised as well. I cried. This was outside of my scope. I could never raise a hand or a PVC pipe to any child. There was some truth to what some of them said, but enough for my shoulders to seize up and my stomach to rumble.

Thank goodness I stumbled in a more natural, less punitive way of living. In the sixth grade we learned about babywearing. I thought it made so much sense, I knew I would do it. I wanted to breastfeed because it seemed to be convenient, not to mention best for the baby. I need a lot of sleep so I knew the baby would be in a side car in my bed as long as I needed the sleep and she wanted to be there. I stumbled upon an article about “Attachment Parenting” and recognized myself in it. I wasn’t the only one like this! There were even Christians who did it, although there were a number of anti-Christians that espoused that philosophy that did not like the Christians.

I can see why. If you read only the mainstream, Christian literature it would be easy to hate Christian parents. It’s a well earned aversion. I admit I get that feeling, too. I fight against it, confident in the millstone around the neck of the person who causes a little one to stumble. That sort of justice is somewhat soothing, but it doesn’t stop the child from being broken.

I have more to say about this, but I don’t have the time to write it. Maybe later, maybe not


You’re a mean mommy

She said it calmly, as we were de-pressurizing from a minor altercation.

It was simple. Her backpack was open. She was chattering away down the drive way. I said, “Stop!” and she didn’t so I said it again. Then again. Finally, I hit the car to make a loud noise so she would listen. (It was already an exercise in stupidity.) She stopped. I zipped her backpack. I said, “Let’s try this again.” She didn’t want to, but she did.

“I thought you told me to stop talking. So I did.” She is a sparkling, spirited and obedient girl. I tell her something once and she usually does it. If she doesn’t I start counting, 1, 2, 3) and she hates that so much she straightens up very quickly. (There is no spanking at number five, or anything like that – she just hates being counted on.) I explained it was because I wanted her to stop walking with her open backpack. “Maybe we can communicate better next time? You can stay ‘stop’ but you can explain what you want me to stop.” (She just turned seven and is able to analyze the conflict better than many adults.)

Next time was going to be right now, so we went back to the porch and tried again. We walked to school. She asked me, “Why did you hit the car?”

“Because I wanted you to listen to me.”

“It just scared me.”

We had a short discussion on whether I am a “mean mommy” or not. I probably am a partially mean mommy. I think that children use that phrase to garner revenge on their parents but I don’t think that is what she was trying to do, I think she was trying to quantify her experience. Two years ago the mommy of which she said, “you don’t just cook and cuddle, you do all things loving,” was not acting like someone who does “all things loving.” This required a new evaluation of the situation.

I am not a yeller. I can lose my temper, but if I do, I try to remove myself from the situation and check in later. It was a source of pride for me that I had yelled or snapped at her less than five times by the time she was five. It just wasn’t part of my parenting tool kit. Mind you there were plenty of other things I squeezed in the kit that were both ridiculous and futile, it’s just that yelling or stomping my feet or hitting the car had not been one of them.

Earlier in the week I was on the phone with something to do with the bills. I was on the computer, and my husband was on one side of the breakfast bar and my daughter on the other. They were asking me to press 1 for blah blah and 2 for another blah and three for blah blah blah. I couldn’t hear, I had already pushed the wrong button once and I raised my voice (notice: didn’t even yell) “Stop talking!”

My husband was surprised, and I was shocked. Small was terrified and confused. I said I was sorry, even though I felt justified. I should have taken the computer and phone upstairs, but that didn’t occur to me until about three minutes ago.

So I was being grouchy. I don’t know what is happening to me. I don’t think it’s a bipolar/OCD/ADD thing – I think it’s a human thing. A bipolar thing might be to throw the phone at the offending party. (I don’t throw things, though). An ADD thing might tap into her secret spider sense to be able to hyper focus, or at least moved her computer out of the way. I don’t know how OCD might play into it, but I’m sure there is some way to blame it and not take responsibility for my own actions. (A charged statement. Many times my mood takes chemically over my body, but this was not the situation.)

I’ve been doing yoga pretty regularly, and it has helped a lot as far as feeling like my body is healthy and my mind is clearer. It hasn’t helped with my mood, though. I need to spend more time in the Bible, in my DBT (Dialectal Behavior Therapy) and to take my pills. That will be enough to probably keep me stable. Then again, bipolar still wins sometimes.

I’ll be gone for the next few days, so I won’t be on the computer until Sunday/Monday. Be well over the next few days.


“Wouldn’t You Like to be Popular?” (G)

Small was seven yesterday and she already wants to be eight.  She’s one of the youngest people in the class and thinks their age gives them authority.  She is a month older than one of her friends and a year older than another and she lords it over them.  She is always the one in charge, she makes the decisions and they execute them.

Is she always going to be like that?

I sure hope she’s not bipolar.  Bipolar gives you weeks of being on top of the world followed by weeks of crashing in to the ground.  Your friends who loved your energy and love of life often abandon you.  It’s not that they don’t like you anymore.  They probably didn’t really like you in the first place.  For someone who enjoys people and wants to be around them, this could be detrimental.  When she is at the top, she’d be at the top.   When she would be depressed, no matter how much she struggles  she won’t  be able to snap out of it.   She does care about what other people think, and psych-hospitals are the joke to end all jokes and she would probably be shunned.   I don’t know if she’d be able to be on top ever again.

Does it seem like I’m obsessed with my daughter’s future popularity?  I guess I am, because I see that being around people and having BFFs feed her spirit.  I have real friends, now, like T and L.  They cook for me and invite me over.  I have a feeling they aren’t talking about me behind my back, or if they are, it is not picking me apart, or finding fault with me.  My friends in high school weren’t that real.  I had mauditmo but she lived very far away.  Other didn’t even notice they were trampling my body in to the ground.  None of us were knowledgeable enough about anything to notice I had something serious going on. I have the twisted idea that, if Small is at least moderately popular she will have more friends, and among those friends she will have good friends.  I should find some former homecoming queens (are there any “former” homecoming queens or is it something like in the Marines, “Once a Marine, always a Marine”?”) and ask about their friendships and relationship.  Or football quarterbacks.  (Can I think of any other stereotypes?  I never even knew our school had a quarterback.)

It occurs to me, in a flash, that punitive parenting would destroy my daughter.  I don’t think it’s good for any kid, but a kid like Small could be crushed.  I raised my voice to my husband earlier this week.  They both were shocked, but Small was spooked.  It reminds me it is good that I don’t yell.  I don’t want her to get used to being yelled at or at hearing yelling.  Same thing goes for corporal punishments, from slapping hands to spankings.  I got ticked at her when she was almost two years old for grabbing at something.  I smacked her hand and she laughed and smacked me back.   It was silly.  It put the whole thing in perspective.  I said I was sorry, but she had dropped it before I could.  I can hear dissenting voices – I should have hit her harder.  I should have been doing it more consistently. I can’t expect punishment to work if I don’t make it hurt.  What?  Why?   As Small says, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

It also doesn’t make sense I was able to fly below the radar.  Although I had obvious symptoms, I was not diagnosed or treated for any mental illness until I was in late twenties.  I struggled  alone, fighting to do the very best I could.  I didn’t have the luxury of any kind of support team or the counseling I desperately needed.  When I was first diagnosed I used to joke that, although  was sick for over a decade, I didn’t get “caught” until much later Most people get diagnosed in their late teens/early twenties.  I managed to plow through those times with sheer willpower, fighting against my body and mind and was chronically suicidal.  Maybe you could have met me and I’d look fine, maybe you would be insightful enough to tell.

P.S.  The title of the entry comes from the 80s flick, “Can’t Buy Me Love.”


Sad – PG-13

Even though I’ve written here angrily and had violent fantasies, it is rare for me to get really passionately hateful about things like I used to.  Once upon a time I’d see a bumper sticker I didn’t like:  “He’s not my president” or “My other toy has t*ts” and I’d fantasize about having a sack of grenades in the pack of my car so I could bite the pin and toss it into the bed or their truck or their unfortunately (for them) open back windows.  Although I can be hateful and unpleasant, I’m no where near where I used to be.  It’s nice, actually, to have that passion cooled.  But it does still come up.  Just rarely.

Now instead of mad, I get sad.  Sometimes I’m too busy being sad that I forget why I am sad.  It’s like the man in the Little Prince who is drinking to forget.  What is he trying to forget?  He is trying to forget he is drinking.

What makes me sad?  It really makes me sad to hear about parents hitting their kids.  More than that, though, is to hear them giggling about the swats and switches.  Dave Ramsey even described the punishment he bilked out as a “beating”.  Then he went ahead, in almost the same breath, about how precious his son was to him and how he could slightly understand how God felt for Him own son.  Dave Ramsey:  weird.  Who’s going to come to Christ with such a weird introduction?  It makes me sad to read about elected officials who do bizarre things that cost them their position.

I’m not that sad today, though.  Feeling a little pressured about my work schedule.  I forgot what it meant to work five days a week, even if it is just in the morning.  I don’t have the kind of job I can coast for a day or two if my health requires it.  It’s all or nothing baby.  Let’s see how I survive.

**********

I have lost 24.7 pounds.  Is that impressive?  I can’t believe I did it.  Not out of some self-loathing.  It’s just that I lost nearly 25 pounds without truly noticing it.  My pants are loose.  That’s about all I’ve noticed.  No one has even said anything to me.  Which is okay, I suppose.  I read once that, “Gasp!  You’ve lost weight” is an uncivilized away of saying, “Boy, were you fat!”  No one wants that.  Even someone who’s lost 100+ pounds.  But I’ve only lost 25.  What do I know?


Not a lot of posts lately; Rookie mistake.  I’ve been pretty depressed and then Small got super sick.  She threw up about a dozen times and took five or six naps.  As she hasn’t taken a nap since before she was two, I was deeply concerned.

But she’s fine now, begging to watch t.v.  She’s watched enough, though.  She’s thumbing threw a scrapbook she made.  Much better use of time.

I posted this:

“Spanking does for a child’s development what wife-beating does for a marriage.” -PTAVE

On Facebook.  I got kind of a lot of positive replies, and then a pm saying, very kindly, that she didn’t like being compared to a wife beater.  She had a very good point and I called her so we could talk about it.  She is a kind, nurturing woman and I am glad to have her as a friend.  I obviously don’t agree with some of her child-rearing philosophies, but I am thankful for her.  When I was in the hospital program, she watched Small two days a week.  She’s paid for baby-sitters and prayed for us.  It would be hard to find a better friend.

I’m sorry but I don’t have anything wonderfully insightful to say today.  (Like I ever do.)  The depression is hanging on and impedes my creativity.  Maybe tomorrow.