On Sunday as I was rocking my three year old about 20 minutes into a good 30-minute cry fest she was having because she was not getting to go swimming with her sister due to her choices of misbehaving and not minding the previous evening, I was whispering things to her like, “This hurts me more than it hurts you” and “This is for your own good,” - phrases I heard repeatedly growing up. I remember thinking to myself then (as she was probably thinking to herself on Sunday): “how is it even possible that this spanking with a belt [or insert other punishment here] is hurting you more than it’s hurting me?” And now, I get it. I totally get it. As she cried and said over and over, “Please let me go swimming” my heart physically hurt. Everything in me wanted to give in and just let her go. She loves swimming. I could even picture her cute, tiny self in her new floatie trying to kick herself around the pool with neck out-stretched for maximum velocity with the biggest grin of joy on her face. But the bigger part of me knew that she needed this lesson. But more than that, I needed this lesson.
I struggle with follow thru at times. In fact, if I had a quarter for every time I said, “Next time you’re getting a spanking/grounded/sent to your room/mouth washed out with soap” I could probably retire early. Chalk it up to feeling guilty for being at work for the majority of their wake time, or not wanting to deal with the ensuing fit/crying/whatever else “inconvenience” that following through with discipline might impose on my only downtime. Whatever the cause, more often than not, I choose easy. Only it’s not really easy. Because now I have a couple of girls on my hand who smirk in the face of my empty threats and think that they rule the roost. It’s time to get serious. And it’s hard to undo. So while minuscule on the scale of discipline (and perhaps laughable to some seasoned parenting vets) I needed to see that I could, in fact, follow through with a threat and that she would be ok in spite of the wailing and that she would still love me when it was all said and done. Needless to say, we both survived.
I owe it to my girls to be a woman of my word in all aspects of my life, but especially where discipline is concerned. It’s a goal for this summer (along with getting my almost 6 year old to eat something other than pancakes and chicken nuggets). I owe them the experience of consequences for behaviors because the only thing worse than bratty children are bratty adults. And they deserve better than that.
