Aselin

I often feel bad for my children. While I believe in a pre-existent state prior to this earth life, I am not so sure we were agents in choosing the details of our current lives. I’m pretty confident if that were the case my kids would not have picked my family to come to.

They may have chosen my husband, but I suffer from a particularly deviant from of parenting style evolved from the recognition that while ‘love and respect’ are noble foundations for parental philosophies, fear really brings quicker results. I learned this from my own childhood. For example: when I was a preschooler I gave my mother fits about getting dressed in the mornings. Not an uncommon parent/child impasse, yet my mother’s solution has resonated through the generations.

Fed up with my stubbornness, she packed my clothing in a paper bag, drove to the curbside drop off where most parents lovingly kissed their children tenderly sending them off for the day. I was deposited in my underwear in the drop off line as my mother burned rubber as she sped away in the Pinto. I don’t care how young you are, having Todd Maruca see your underwear is a horror no child should have to endure.

The power in my mother’s solution is my children know that if my mom was brash enough to pull a parenting stunt like this, then of course their mom would do it too - and likely worse. My children are rarely dressed in clothes that match, but they are always dressed.

It has been tremendously effective to have my kids understand that my side of the family carries a special kind of crazy gene. They are always a little on edge when the punishment comes from me. My husband is fantastically rational. He’s steady, predictable and fair. They run to him for their consequences.

I on the other hand chase after them with things like: if my toddler won’t stay in her bed, then of course she should lose the privilege of having a bed. It went in the garage. She slept on the box springs with a doll blanket. Or... if a second grader is complaining that life isn’t “fair” then of course I would do everything in my power to make it fair. Removing every item from her possession she owned that her younger siblings didn’t own. Sad for her they were still in diapers and didn’t own any underwear.

Squabble in the car: I’ve pulled over on the side of the road and made them walk. Won't use your table manners? I’ve put their dishes on the floor and made them eat like dogs. As a consequence they are fantastically obedient. I really should get an award.

Miraculously, they still like to be with me, even like me. And as an added bonus, whenever we’re out in public they know better than to mess with me... they never know what I’ll do.