I often find myself reflecting on the kind of mother I aspire to be, and I can confidently say I’m not the same parent my own mother was. My parenting journey, like many aspects of life, exists in a murky gray area. It’s a delicate balance between my ideal self and the reality of my everyday experiences.
I occasionally lose my cool, let out a curse word when I’m overwhelmed, or raise my voice when exhaustion sets in. But one thing is unequivocal: my child is deeply loved.
Growing up, I felt neglected and unloved. I was the overachiever—the math whiz, spelling bee champion, and valedictorian—always striving for my mother’s affection. While she wasn’t intentionally harsh, raising six children as a single mom while juggling three jobs meant she did her best with the tools she had. Unfortunately, that included physical punishment.
Now, while I may not embody my vision of a perfect mom, I staunchly refuse to resort to corporal punishment. In stark contrast to my upbringing, I celebrate my child’s achievements every day. He radiates a confidence that I could only dream of, and we express our love for one another multiple times a day.
Yet, there’s a paradox: my son is, in some ways, scared of me. As a mother, I can be quite strict. It’s a balancing act—I indulge him when it comes to his culinary requests and allow him to invite friends over frequently. We share laughter and silliness, but I have zero tolerance for disrespect. If he talks back, a warning is issued; if he doesn’t adjust his tone, there are consequences: losing privileges, being grounded, or doing extra chores.
Yes, he has more chores than most of his friends, but I’m unbothered. When his belongings spread across the house, I give him a warning, and if he doesn’t heed it, it’s bye-bye stuff. I also maintain a firm stance on academics—he doesn’t have to be perfect, but he must genuinely try.
I’m not a monster. He has plenty of leisure time, enjoying his favorite YouTubers and gaming online. I’ve worked hard to find a balance between being the “fun” mom and the strict enforcer. As a single mom, I know that if I don’t instill some fear, he could take advantage of my leniency as a teenager.
That Brings Us to the Incident
That brings us to the unfortunate incident last month when I found myself arrested for disciplining him.
It was early evening, around 6:30 PM, when my son spoke to me disrespectfully. I warned him, “Keep that tone up, and I’ll put you out of this car.” He persisted, escalating his attitude. Not one to make idle threats, I pulled over, opened his door, and physically removed him from the car. He was taken aback.
This wasn’t a rash decision; I considered the surroundings—light outside, a strip mall with stores open, and four teenagers nearby. After a short drive, I returned, only to find the police waiting. It turns out my son had cried so hard that someone called for help.
My first reaction was less than stellar; I got confrontational with the officers, which is never a wise move. When Child Protective Services arrived, my heart sank. I quickly understood that they were there because the police intended to arrest me. I managed to convince the arresting officer not to cuff me in front of my child.
Being in the back of a police car wasn’t new to me, but I hoped it would be my last. Once detained, my fury faded as my focus shifted to my son’s distress. I reassured him that the police were just ensuring his safety and that everything would be okay—even if I had my doubts.
After several hours of questioning, they decided not to press charges. My parting comment to them was a snarky remark about their priorities: “Why not go arrest the dealers behind the high school?”
Then came the investigation from social services, which can appear out of nowhere. When the social worker arrived, she seemed almost apologetic. Our home was spotless, with evidence of our recent school project on the table, and the fridge was stocked with healthy food. When my son came home, he proudly showed her his karate trophies and shared stories about his life in fifth grade. The case was resolved quickly.
However, my anger lingered. I’m grateful for the protective instincts in our community, but I wish that once the police learned I was disciplining my child—not abandoning him—they would have stepped back.
This experience was incredibly stressful for both of us. I worry about living in a world filled with irrational fears. I don’t want my son to grow up scared. Just recently, I let him ride his bike around our neighborhood alone, though it made me anxious. The statistics on child abductions are low, yet we often convince ourselves that children need to be supervised at all times.
What truly terrifies me is the thought of my son falling into the wrong crowd as he heads into middle school, especially in an area where drugs are rampant. I work with teens, and it seems like every week, another one is lost to addiction or worse.
As much as I want to be the fun mom, I also need him to have a healthy respect for boundaries. If he chooses to make the wrong decisions, he will face the consequences—just not on my watch.
Reflections on My Choices
If I had to make that same choice again, even after being arrested? Absolutely. If that makes me a bad mother, I’m willing to accept that. I work hard to provide for my child and believe I have the right to discipline him within reason. Unfortunately, the law sees it differently.
It’s disheartening that due to the actions of some parents, I was perceived as a neglectful mother. The worst part is that I fear I may have lost some trust in my son’s eyes. We talked about the incident, but with the law involved, I can’t shake the worry that he questions my ability to protect him.
As he grows older, I wonder how he will reflect on this experience. Time will tell. Writing this has been a challenging endeavor, and now I need to take a moment to collect myself with a cup of tea before I start baking. My son recently declared that iced oatmeal raisin cookies are his favorite, and I want him to have some fresh from the oven when he gets home.
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In summary, my experiences as a single mother navigating discipline have led to unexpected consequences, including an arrest. While I strive to be the best parent I can be, the challenges I face often leave me questioning my decisions.