Tuesday, January 09, 2007

whipping boy

You know those news casts where there is violent or sensitive material? This might be one of those posts. Get me into trouble or make you feel a little sick in your gut, you can stop now, you're warned.

After we got home from school today, Liam and Elli were eating some snacks and Addison was on her hands and knees in the middle of the floor just smiling and bouncing. Liam, with bowl in hand, sauntered over to Addison and kicked her in the gut. Not a little love tap, but a totally pre-meditated hearty kick to her midsection.

We have instituted using a paddle my mother gave me in my Christmas stocking (as I've been asking her a lot about discipline) as a safe means of punishment. Safe in that I don't spank in anger and heat of the moment--it takes a minute to get the paddle off the hook in the pantry and the recipient gets a few minutes of sitting in their room shaking in terror awaiting the punishment to come and hopefully learning a lesson?

This time, though, I could see the smoke coming out of my own nostrils as I got that paddle off the hook and flew to Liam's room almost arriving the same time he did. Something inside me flipped. I was no longer his mother, but a bystander who had witnessed an act of cruelty, and wanted to make sure that act did not go unpunished and send the statement that cruel and violent behavior (hah, like me and my paddle) will not be tolerated. After telling him that behavior is unacceptable and never to be seen again, he assumed the pose (pants at the ankles, bend forward and hands on knees) and proceeded to give him a whap. It was such a mighty stroke that I broke the handle on the paddle.

Flashback to my junior year of college. I am student teaching for 6th grade in a public school in Ohio. I watch out my classroom window as some younger students are at recess. I see a large boy corner a tiny little boy, pin him against the chain link fence and start beating him in the face with his meaty fist. The little boy is covering his head, crying, stuck and getting his nose mashed into his face. Other kids are standing around watching, and there's not an adult or teacher paying any kind of attention. If I just opened my window, I'd be able to yell. I grab my senior teacher's attention and explain the situation asking to break up the fight, but she tells me it's not my problem, there are adults on the playground, and to just keep teaching.

I obeyed. But I disagreed with her. I don't give a rip whose "job" it was, I witnessed injustice and wanted nothing more than to step in and break it up. I still feel sick remembering this incident. It is one of my greatest fears for my own children, that something like this would ever happen to them one day and no one would step in for them and they'd get beat to a pulp for no reason at all.

This summer Liam was in our driveway playing with an older, bigger friend and that friend pinned him on the concrete and was pretending to punch him in the face and whispering "I'm gonna kill you" with each punching gesture. I flipped out. Pulled the friend off Liam, yelled a lot too loudly that you NEVER pretend you are hurting or punching someone, especially in the face, and you don't EVER tell people you are going to kill them. I was shaking. I was scared. I felt like one of my worst fears was taking place right in front of my own eyes...or like a sick preview of what lies in Liam's future. Oh dear God, may this never be.

Today, I witnessed injustice in my own home by my own flesh and blood. And it still made my blood boil, and I did something about it.

Now, the rub lies in that as I type this I wonder should I have stepped outside my body and watched myself punish Liam the way I just did, would I have allowed it or gotten upset at myself-as-punisher and charge myself with violence, anger, cruelty? I don't think so. There is no call for outright cruelty the way he kicked a small, innocent baby who did not incite or deserve a mean kick to the belly. Although in the moment I didn't feel very loving towards Liam, I know I am punishing him because I love him enough not to allow him to make bad choices, turn my head, and let them get to the point that he starts antagonizing or even abusing property, animals, other people, or himself.

I feel bad that Liam's buns probably burned and smarted for a few minutes, but I hope that pain serves to teach him that meanness and cruelty will not be tolerated in my household or on my watch.

I know if I am in error on this one, my punishment will be worse than a sore behind, but I embrace and welcome correction if I am in the wrong and appreciate a Father who cares enough not to let me get out of hand and be less that He created me to be. One of those ways might be through friends with an objective viewpoint giving me feedback. So, gulp, what have you to say?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hello! Melissa Wade here :) Came across your blog by way of Amelia ... and I couldn't help but respond. You have a wonderful way of writing.

It is really hard when our kids do something mean to one another. I know that there have been too many times that I have flown off the handle & responded in a way that was entirely inappropriate for the "crime" they committed.

I hate that feeling of having done the wrong thing in parenting. My kids have each heard me apologize to them for my actions.

I think you did the right thing. I think you sent Liam a definite message that what he did was very unacceptable. And just think of the story that he'll be able to tell his kids ~ broken paddle & all. :)

And for what it's worth ... having that 3rd child changes the family dynamic SO MUCH! It's like moving from man-to-man defense to zone defense.

Cheeky said...

Hi Melissa--so glad you stopped by! Thanks for the words of encouragement. The broken paddle really shook me up today, but even worse the "something" inside Liam that led him to actually kick a tiny baby!

Yes, I think I am so much harder on myself when I screw up at parenting--when we're trying so hard to "raise 'em right" and the responsibility of exampling Jesus in their little lives.

My mom always says "thankfully, they're probably too young to remember" in regards to mistakes, "bad days", doing or saying the wrong thing...oh the list could go on and on!

I, too, have apologized many a time to my kids--it never gets easier and you'd think I'd learn!

You're so right about the 3rd child dynamic...and I always feel like I'm playing desperate defense and boxed out so far I'm gonna split in three!

Update: when I went in to visit Liam a little after the incident, he said his buns were fine and some ideas he came up with alternative to kicking anyone in his way were to either ask them to move or walk around.

anne said...

I feel quite inadequate to offer any type of advice or comment, but my first reaction is not horror or disbelief at your actions. You were angry, but rightfully so and even if in the moment you don't think you were being loving, you still were.

There are obviously people out there who feel that violence against violence doesn't teach any lesson, but I think I disagree. When you show a specific purpose for your action, especially against a pointless and cruel action, the lesson is well taught.