As a child, I experienced spankings that left a lasting impression on me. I can vividly recall the last time it happened. My cousin and I were engrossed in a game of Girl Talk, and one of the dares prompted us to make a prank call. With the old-school portable phone in hand, I dialed a random number, and an elderly woman answered. “Hello?” she said. “Bye!” I cheekily responded before hanging up, and we burst into laughter, completely unaware of the *69 feature.
To our surprise, the phone rang back. “Hello?” I answered. “I’d like to speak to your father, please,” the voice on the line was unmistakably that of the lady I’d just pranked. Panic set in as I handed the phone to my dad. His furious roar echoed from downstairs, and I felt the weight of my poor choices. He chastised us both, but I was the one who bore the brunt of his anger. As I walked by, he spanked me hard. The sting was immediate, and instead of reflecting on my actions, I felt a deep sense of shame and anger. I vowed that I would never spank my own children.
Fast forward to adulthood, and I held onto that promise tightly. When I became pregnant, I confidently declared, “My child will never be spanked.” Reactions varied; some supported my stance, while others rolled their eyes or warned me that I’d change my mind. But I was resolute. No child of mine would experience the pain of a spanking.
As I prepared to become a foster parent, I received confirmation for my beliefs: corporal punishment was strictly forbidden. The room erupted in disbelief, but I felt empowered, knowing I could raise my children without resorting to hitting. I embraced the concept of positive parenting, which emphasized time-ins, emotional understanding, and avoiding physical punishment altogether. I was ready.
Then I had three sons. With a chaotic morning unfolding and my hands full, I attempted to apply makeup while the kids played nearby. Happy screams soon turned into distress when my eldest, Max, rushed in, sobbing. “Oliver bit me!” he cried, pointing to his younger brother. Oliver had been on a rampage of hitting and wrestling all morning. The sight of Max’s arm, marked with bite marks, triggered a surge of rage within me. I shouted for Oliver to come over.
When he arrived, I quickly grabbed his arm and delivered a hard smack on his backside. His shocked scream pierced the air, and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. “Don’t ever bite your brother again!” I yelled, but as he collapsed in tears on the bathroom floor, my heart sank with regret. I remembered my vow: hitting was not an option, and I felt utterly defeated.
One of the core tenets of positive parenting is acknowledging when you’re wrong. I knew I had to apologize, but how could I express that? “Oliver, sweetheart?” I sat down beside him and wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so sorry I hit you.”
“You hit me, Mama!” he exclaimed, bewildered and hurt. In his innocent world, mothers didn’t hit.
“I did. I acted out of anger, and I’m truly sorry. I promise not to do it again.”
“Really, Mama?” Max chimed in from the corner, concerned.
“I promise, my love,” I assured him.
However, once the door to spanking was cracked open, it became difficult to close. I found myself threatening the kids with the possibility of spanking whenever tempers flared. Each time, they reminded me, “No hitting, Mama! You promised!” And they were right. I had to reaffirm my commitment to gentle parenting.
I hope this time, I can genuinely uphold my promise.
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Summary
Parenting is a journey filled with challenges, and even with the best intentions, it’s easy to stray from our principles. After experiencing a moment of weakness, I reflected on my commitment to gentle parenting and vowed to uphold my promise of never hitting my children again.
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