I friend of mine said he had an unfortunately short temper with his small daughter recently, and yelled at her in proper 1960’s overbearing dad style. He felt a little bad about it, but it got me thinking how much I’d rather be cussed out and yelled at than beaten. Kid’s still get “whooped,” of course, and I saw a lady at Wal-Mart flat-out pimp-slap her toddler daughter—it echoed—because the kid wouldn’t shut up about something she wanted to eat.
So, my question is this: How mad do you let yourself get at your kids? Are you a quiet angry, or a bellowing-dragon angry? Have you ever let the anger get the better of you?
She was white, boring genetic caveats aside. Socio-economically, I’d say lower middle class. The woman didn’t look at that different from any number of yuppie moms you’d see, although she was kind of young. Maybe early 20s?
I’ve noticed the parents who yell most at their kids end up having to yell at them ALL the time for some reason. I guess the yelling just becomes incidental white noise to the kids and they can eventually just tune it out like a husband listening to whatever it is that wives say to husbands.
One good beating and you don’t ever have to yell again. It doesn’t even have to be your kids, just choose some random large person and beat them up(or beat them down, your choice) and then tell the kids they are next.
I spank very rarely but when it happens it’s with meaning. Enough meaning to where he fears the thought of it.
I’ve gotten mad enough to yell at my son in a manner some would find totally offensive, but that was before I became calmer and learned to leave the room for a second.
I rarely need to raise my voice to my kids, but when I do they know I mean it and take it very hard. I very very rarely have to yell at my kids…but a couple months ago there was an incident were my 5 year old boy had made me so unbelievably mad coupled with my 7 year old daughter’s behavior prior to his incident that I was going to bitch-slap anyone near me including the kids. I did not, but I had yelled ‘sit down’ loud enough to them that it echoed through my head during my 2 minute cool down. When I came back they where crying like little schoolgirls apologizing their little hearts out. That behavior has not reoccurred but I still am surprised about how forceful that yell was. Lessons learned all around.
I think my daughter got one spanking—for zipping a full-grown cat up inside a headphone case (actually a remarkable feat when you think about it). It must have been a successful deterent, since that was 28 years ago and so far as I knew she’s never repeated the offense.
I’ve never spanked my kids, though I have yelled. It’s rare enough that it gets their attention. Even so, it makes me feel yucky.
Once when my kids were fighting with each other in the back seat of our very small Honda Civic, I reached back and popped my daughter on the knee. She was shocked into silence. But now, about once a week, she’ll say, “Mom, remember that time you hit me?” To which I say, “Yes. Do you remember the 500 times you’ve hit your brother?”
