Close: Shona Sibary with her children - (left to right front) Dolly, 3, Flo, 14, (back) Monty, 9 and Annie, 11...
Hello Friends!
Last week, I found myself in the midst of one of those hair-raising, mother-daughter rows that inevitably escalates into a maelstrom of insults and yelling.
The argument kicked off on the topic of 14-year-old Flo trowelling on mascara to go to school, but soon veered off down a well-trodden path: that of my general shortcomings as a mother and the utterly agonising existence she has to endure being my daughter.
All of which I can cope with. What I couldn’t tolerate? The fact that, as I was mid-sentence, she viciously slammed the living room door in my face, almost taking off my nose.
Close: Shona Sibary with her children - (left to right front) Dolly, 3, Flo, 14, (back) Monty, 9 and Annie, 11
Before I even had time to think what I was doing, I had wrenched the door open again and slapped her — hard — on the bottom.
The look of utter shock on her face said it all. It might have been a while since I’ve smacked Flo, but in that instant I knew I still had to show the upper (rather sore) hand.
Of course, I know that there will be an army of liberal, politically correct parents out there reading this in horror, their fingers itching to dial the number for social services.
Indeed, I can almost hear their cries of: ‘Couldn’t you reason with her instead? Taken a deep breath and explained that slamming doors is impolite?’
The answer — quite simply — is: Get real. At that moment, what my ranting, rude and hormonal daughter needed was a short, sharp reminder that she’d overstepped the boundaries.
I’m not singling Flo out for particularly harsh treatment — my other three children have all been subjected to exactly the same old-fashioned discipline. And not just from me. My husband, Keith, has also smacked them (although he is more likely to shout instead, before reaching for a glass of wine).
Mother and daughter: Last week, Shona hit her 14-year-old daughter Flo (pictured) after she slammed a door in her face...
So smacking usually falls to me. Three-year-old Dolly recently felt my hand — although more gently than her sister. The boundary which had been breached was a kerb along a busy street. She stepped out into the traffic from between two parked cars, and in that heart-lurching moment I grabbed her — and swiped my hand across the backs of her legs.
On that occasion, the smack was fuelled by a mixture of sheer fear and frustration at Dolly’s lack of sense. But both smacking episodes — with teenager and toddler — had one thing in common: they sent the children an unequivocal message that could not have been achieved with words alone.
Which is why I whole-heartedly agree with Justice Secretary Chris Grayling’s comments, reported in the Mail yesterday. The Cabinet minister and father of two admitted that, in the past, he physically punished his children for being badly behaved and sees nothing wrong in occasionally smacking youngsters.
'Send a message': Justice Secretary Chris Grayling admitted he smacked his children when they were badly behaved
The Tory MP for Epsom, who has a daughter of 20 and son of 16, said: ‘You chastise children when they are bad, as my parents did me.’
He went on to say that he would defend the rights of parents to discipline their offspring physically.
Well, thank goodness! I have smacked my four children — Flo, the eldest, Annie, 12, Monty, ten, and little Dolly — on more occasions than I care to remember. Sometimes it’s been a last resort when all other modes of discipline have failed; on others, simply a way of reminding them who, in our relationship, is really boss.
There have also, I’ll admit, been a few times when I have smacked simply because I’ve lost control. I’m not proud of those moments — although they have, at least, demonstrated to my offspring that I can be pushed only so far.
Showing them who's boss: Smacking is a last resort when all other modes of discipline have failed
I am, after all, only human and if someone screams at the top of their lungs how much they despise me, while simultaneously kicking their bedroom door, I will eventually snap. I think that is a valuable lesson for the children to learn.
Indeed, I was smacked when I was a child and it did me no long-term damage. I was born in Hong Kong and for the first four years of my life would receive regular, chastising swipes from my lovely Chinese nanny. Then we moved to the UK and, for the first time, my mother was in sole charge of me.
By all accounts, it wasn’t a smooth transition. I was a horror and she had no hands-on experience of looking after a young child. In desperation at my bad behaviour, she would threaten the arrival of my father home from work — and the dreaded slipper.
Fear as a weapon: It works far more effectively than other disciplinary measures
Of course, the fear of the punishment was always worse than the actual punishment, as I’m sure my father’s heart wasn’t really in it and he just wanted to get back downstairs to his G&T.
Later, when I was a lippy teenager, he’d think nothing of reaching across the table to give me a painful clip around my head for back-chatting. While I smarted at the time, I know that these unexpected swipes kept me on my toes and made me bite my lip. I loved my father dearly, but I had a very healthy fear of what he would do if I were rude to him.
Modern parents say ridiculous things like: ‘I don’t want my children to be afraid of me.’
Why not, for heaven’s sake? Sometimes fear is the only tool you have left. And it works far more effectively than a naughty step, bribery, time out and all those other soft-parenting tricks put together. A good, old-fashioned smack does the trick in an instant and lets them know — in no uncertain terms — who is in charge.
This is something other European countries have been quick to cotton onto. Two parenting books have been written in the past year on the topic of why French children are so much better behaved than their Anglo-Saxon counterparts.
And the secret these books revealed? That a French mother (referred to as Le Chief by her family) brooks no opposition from badly behaved children, and doesn’t think twice about reprimanding them physically.
So why don’t British mothers feel the same way? Because our child-centric, liberal culture has left us feeling that we should wrap our children in cotton wool and shower them with praise.
I was talking to a friend the other day, and she admitted — in a guilty whisper — that she had, very occasionally, smacked her two sons. She refrained from doing so more often because she couldn’t bear the thought of them ‘flinching’ when she went near them.
I refrained from telling her that my children not only flinch — they duck, dive and even, on occasion, lock themselves in another room to avoid being on the receiving end of my hand.
Are they psychologically damaged? Not on your life. They’re just a bit better behaved — and a lot better at getting out of the way.
Badly behaved: Our child-centric, liberal culture has left us feeling that we should wrap our children in cotton wool and shower them with praise
There may be mothers out there who think that I am sending out the message that violence is acceptable.
But there is a big difference between reprimanding my children physically — from a position of love, care and concern — and unwarranted violence. Even my children understand that and, just in case they don’t, I take great pains to explain afterwards why I resorted to smacking.
I am sure I will also be accused of using my size and strength to gain an advantage over my vulnerable offspring. But that’s precisely the point, isn’t it? Sometimes children need to understand — quickly and emphatically — that there is someone more powerful in the world than them.
And you know what? As odd as this sounds, smacking makes them feel safe. Because it tells them, louder than any words, that the boundaries which their parents set to protect them will be upheld — even if that means I have to get physical.
So don’t tell me I’m a bad parent for smacking. Because, trust me, my children won’t.
Indeed, when they are fully functioning adults who have survived busy roads and the many other pitfalls of growing up, I know they will thank me for it.
Culled from The Daily Mail UK.
xoxo
Simply Cheska...
No comments:
Post a Comment