Parenting Hall of Fame- Probably Not
From the Mouths of Babes
I thought I was an exceptional mother. People never failed to comment on how well-behaved or well-spoken my children were. I should have known I was wrong, when one day while we were shopping, my young daughter said, “Mommy, I got a headache.” Not one to encourage poor grammar, I asked her where she got it and she quickly corrected her statement. Rolling her eyes she said, “Mommy, I have a headache.” A fellow shopper overheard the conversation and commented that she’d been in the last few aisles with us and was impressed by how well-behaved the kids were. To the kids she said, “Ya’ll are so good for your mom.” To which my son replied with all seriousness, “She will kill us if we don’t behave.” Mortified, I looked at the woman and noticed the badge hanging around her neck. It read, Department of Children’s Services. Leave it to my sweet angels to tell a social worker I threatened their lives.
To be fair, I did say that… often. I will kill you was one of my favorite threats, because they always knew I meant business when I said it. To be clear, I never even spanked them. I have three children with three distinct personalities, and what works for one does not work for all. That only exception to that rule was my one blanket threat, it was universally effective.
No One Size Fits All
I tried counting when they were young, but that failed miserably. The oldest started counting with me and the middle would ask, “So, what happens when you get to three?” I didn’t even bother with the youngest. Instead, I took things away. Our oldest son loved watching television, and turning it off was equivalent to boiling him in oil, but the other two were not so simple. The middle one loved reading and the youngest naps. As a result, sending them to their rooms was an experience for the unaware guest in our home. Imagine if you will, hearing a friend tell their misbehaving child, Go to your room and don’t you touch a book! Better still, Keep it up and I will not take you to the library! With my daughter it was, “Go to your room and don’t you dare lie down!” Believe me when I tell you, my friends thought I was crazy. The thing is, you have to hit ‘em where it hurts. Giving books to a bookworm or naps to the sandman, or girl in our case would have done no good.
Learning As We Go
Naturally, we improvised along the way. When our middle child entered a goth phase, we let him have his individuality. When he decided he wanted to grow his hair out long and get his ear pierced, my husband did the same. He declared he would cut his hair and remove the earring when The Boy did. I can tell you, I think the happiest day of Hubby’s life was the day my son cut his hair and removed the piercing. The point was, he could be an individual, but would not be alone.
Dealing with the Ugly
Our children had to face bullies, like all kids do. The oldest is mentally and developmentally delayed. While on an outing one day, someone called him a “retard”, and he heard it. Now, I hate the word, but words only have the power we give them. So I explained to him that retarded meant silly and everyone was silly sometimes. Armed with this new knowledge, he referred to anything or anyone he deemed silly as retarded. We made it a household word, and it never hurt his feelings again.
The other two met with bullies in school, so being the responsible adult that I am, I said, “punch them in the face and they will stop.” I told them we never start fights, but if you have to protect yourselves. In both cases, my advice ended with Dad picking them up from school along with a three-day suspension. I do not advocate fighting, but I was raising children, not doormats. Although, I think their principles had a slightly different perspective.
Eighteen Years Later
Like many families, we were busy and time together was precious, but my husband and I firmly believed in active parenting. Dinner was a mandatory attendance affair. We ate together without television or cell phones. In the evenings, we sat outside with the kids drinking coffee or tea and talking about our days. It was during one of these conversations that my daughter told us about a discussion in her psychology class. “Today I learned you abused us all our lives” she told me with a laugh. Once I retrieved my jaw from the floor, I asked her what on earth she was talking about.
My darling daughter told her professor that she and her brothers never got into serious trouble. They always came home by curfew and never failed to check-in at the expected time. The disbelieving professor asked why they never acted out. She said, “I told him we didn’t want to die.” She explained I told them I would kill them if they broke those rules, and I always did what I said I would do. Stunned, I asked her if she really thought that. “Well, not anymore, but when we would have done those things, we thought so.” She said. A quick check with the boys confirmed the belief had been unanimous.
My Two Cents
While I don’t advocate threatening the lives of children as a rule, ours was a unique relationship and theirs, an obviously unique upbringing. They are my greatest joy, and although they have their own lives now, we still have Sunday dinners together. They call me most every day and know beyond a doubt that they are never alone.
Did I abuse my children? Emphatic NO. Should everyone do what I did? Again, no. There is no cookie cutter method for raising children. We, as parents, muddle through as best we can. Every child is unique, and how we approach them must reflect that.