In my earlier years, I categorized parents who resorted to spanking their children into two distinct groups: those who lacked religious faith and those who were overly zealous in their beliefs. The non-religious proponents of spanking often argued that their own upbringing, marked by physical discipline, had yielded positive results. Phrases like “Look at me; I turned out fine” would invariably follow their justification. I never had the courage to voice my thoughts on their parenting, instead opting to silently judge them as ineffective caregivers.
Similarly, I was equally appalled by those who misinterpreted religious doctrine to advocate for corporal punishment. They seemed to believe that divine instruction mandated the use of physical discipline, claiming that without it, children would succumb to their inherent sinful tendencies. I often found myself incredulous, questioning how a benevolent deity could condone such actions.
However, everything changed once I became pregnant. The onslaught of hormones made me vocal about my beliefs concerning prenatal care and child-rearing. I was particularly outspoken with my sister-in-law, whom I playfully nicknamed “Ms. Spanky McSpankerson.” I inundated her with articles and studies detailing the detrimental effects of spanking, often engaging in heated debates that painted me as quite the obnoxious individual.
Then, my son came into the world. From the outset, he exhibited colicky behaviors; as he grew, he transitioned from incessant crying to a seemingly endless stream of whining. His complaints were relentless—everything from the color of his peas to the temperature of his cereal seemed to be an issue.
As he matured, he became what many would politely term “strong-willed,” but I found it more accurate to describe him as obstinate. We attempted various disciplinary techniques: stern conversations when he misbehaved, time-outs when he resisted instructions, and positive reinforcement when he made good choices. None of these strategies seemed to work.
The breaking point came when he slapped me across the face. In that moment, I discovered a third category of parents—those who, despite their best intentions and ideals, resort to spanking as a last resort. All my previously held beliefs about raising children with love and logic dissipated. I found myself responding in a manner I had once vehemently opposed: I calmly administered a swat to his bottom, firmly stating, “You will not hit mommy. That is disrespectful.”
In that instant, my son was taken aback; he cried, big tears rolling down his cheeks. We shared a brief moment of comfort afterward, and I reassured him of my love. Surprisingly, he bounced back quickly, and although he continued to have a strong-willed disposition, he learned to be more respectful.
Now, I no longer view parents who spank as abusers. Rather, I understand them as individuals who may be overwhelmed and searching for effective discipline methods.
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In summary, my perspective on spanking has evolved from disdain to understanding, revealing the challenges and dilemmas faced by parents in their quest for effective discipline.