Spanking, Part 1

For the purposes of this article, the term "spanking" will include any form of physical punishment, such as "swatting," pinching, slapping, etc.

Generally speaking, I hate discussions about spanking. This is because they tend to fall into two categories: "Is it 'right?' (or 'moral?')" and "Does it work?" I think both are completely worthless arguments. If you're going to debate whether or not spanking is morally correct, you might as well throw in a nice debate about religion, politics, and sex and let the shit really fly. While such discussions may have their place (though I haven't found that place yet and have no interest in visiting it either), they're basically worthless to the parents in question, who are trying to figure out how to respond to their children's behavior.

Debating whether or not spanking "works" is equally worthless, because any idiot can see that, depending on your goal and your definition of success, spanking does work. No one argues about the effectiveness of negative reinforcement - clearly if doing X leads to pain, humans will avoid X. Hell, not just humans, but all creatures - it's a very basic concept and quite pointless to try to argue.

Now, if you want to discuss whether or not spanking is efficient, I'm all for it.

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Tune in next week for Part 2 - same bat-time, same bat-channel, same bat-shit-crazy! :)

Bridges Ever After

A True Story by Debbie Frost

Perhaps you’ve heard a fairy tale about a kind, beautiful damsel who was swept off her feet by a gallant, handsome prince? Well, this fairy tale is about what happened after that, because it did not, after all, end Happily Ever After. Of course we always want to believe that it does, but nothing is ever really that easy. So, our beautiful Damsel and her handsome Sir were married, and in the years following they had two sons. The first son was named Prince, and the second son was named Fighter.

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Updates and Such

Well, I have all these great ideas for posts, but never when I'm actually able to access my computer, and then by the time I get home, I've forgotten.  So, I'm going to just post some of the old stories I've written about my kids for now; hopefully I'll get better about writing down my other ideas.  :D 

Let's Start With the Basics

I was thinking I wouldn't have much to say here, but the world just provides.

So, I'm sitting here at the coffee bar, doing my weekly internet thing.  For the second time this month, there's a little boy here (same kid).  He's about 4-5 years old.  His parental figures (I have no idea which of the three adults he belongs to) are busy on their computer.  They've been here nearly an hour.

This child appears at first glance to be a whiny, spoiled, overactive brat.  He's run back and forth through the dining area, spilled his drink, dug in the trash, struck up awkward conversations with total strangers, and been told repeatedly to behave - which he listens to for about three minutes.

He is not an easy child to like, that much is obvious.  But as I sit here (again) and try to ignore him (yeah right), I realize he is not the problem.  

HE'S BORED.

He is here with three adults, at least one of whom is probably his parent, and none of them have given him anything to do.  FOR AN HOUR.  No coloring books, no toys, not even mom's cell phone.  They all expect him to sit quietly at a bare table.  FOR AN HOUR.

Let me ask you something - if your husband were your ride home, and he expected you to sit quietly with absolutely nothing to do for an hour, what would your reaction be?  Would you be okay with that?  Would that be even remotely acceptable for you?

Yeah, didn't think so.  So why are all three of these people completely incapable of realizing that - aside from the torture of boredom the poor child is experiencing - they'd all be happier if they spent $2 at the dollar store on the way here for something to keep the kid occupied?  Let's not even look at this from the kid's perspective - some parents are selfish, I get it.  So... if what you want is some uninterrupted time to get online, why oh why would you bring along a bored child?  

Okay - if you want your child to be successful (in this case, to behave appropriately in a coffee shop) you have to give them the tools to do that.  What those tools look like is going to depend a lot on the child in question, and their age.  Some kids aren't going to color for more than two minutes, while others are too young to do more than chew on a puzzle, etc.  Some kids aren't going to manage to behave appropriately at a coffee shop for an hour no matter what you do, unless it involves illegally drugging the kid.  That's okay, too - figure something out, and make sure you wrap things up early.  The more you get out and have positive (if really short) experiences, the sooner your child will be able to extend those outings.  (Realize it could still take years to see the measurable payoff.)  

In any case, at least Big Ol' Selfish YOU YOU YOU will not have your coffee-shop-internet time constantly interrupted by that little brat who follows you everywhere.  

Building Fences

Originally written um... a long time ago.  Like, '02 or something.

Children have a basic but profound need to know that they will be kept safe, both from the world and from themselves. They need to know that their parents will set and maintain limits and rules to provide a level of safety.  Setting limits and rules is like building a fence around the family house, a fence that will keep the children from mistakenly wandering into a busy street, or to keep something dangerous from getting to the children. If the fence is too big, it blocks the lovely view and makes it hard for people to come visit deleted text, and if the fence is too small, it just looks pretty but doesn't provide any real protection.  Children need their parents to build them a “just-right” fence, one that keeps everyone safe while allowing some freedom. This is a story about how I learned to build fences for my three sons.  (Real-life examples are included in parenthesis to illustrate the main points.)
 
Tommy and Sam seem to have faith in my ability to build fences. They are content to see the fence, to ask a few questions about it, occasionally lean on a fencepost or two, and feel secure that my fence will protect them. Ricky seems more skeptical. Ricky needs more. Ricky needs to examine every piece of the fence, kick every fencepost, count how many nails, climb on the fence and shake it, run at it full speed and hit it as hard as he can before he feels secure that my fence is strong enough to protect him.
 
It's taken me a while to figure this out. The hard part is realizing the difference between when he's testing the fence and when he's actually found something wrong with the fence. 
 
Tonight I put up a new piece of fence (a set bedtime). I tell the boys "In ten minutes we are going to bed." Tommy and Sam immediately run over to check out the new fence. Tommy says "You put it in the wrong place! (I'm hungry!)" Sam says "It's too tall! (I need a bedtime story!)" So I take their advice and make a few adjustments (I get Tommy a bowl of cereal, have Sam pick out a bedtime story.) Ricky looks over at the new section of fence but expresses no opinion (he just shouts "No!") I ask Ricky's opinion but he refuses to offer one (he's not hungry, he doesn't want a bedtime story, and he doesn't want anything to do with this new limit). 
 
When it's time for bed, I hammer in the last few nails on this new section of fence. (I put the boys to bed.) Now Ricky suddenly starts complaining. It's way too short, it's in entirely the wrong place, it seems to be leaning, it will never, ever do! (he's hungry, he wants a bedtime story, he's not sleepy, "NO NO NO!!!") Now is when it gets hard for me to have faith in my workmanship. Ricky does his 3-year old best to pick my new fence to pieces. He counts the nails, he kicks the fenceposts, he runs headlong into it several times. (Over the next twenty minutes as we lay in bed together, Ricky cries and screams, insists he's hungry, wants a story, isn't sleepy, is too hot, is too cold, doesn't want to snuggle, hates his brother, hates me, all at least twice.)
 
I'm getting better at telling the difference between the fence testing and there being an actual fault with the fence, though. Tonight I simply lay quietly and hold him when he'll let me (which is most of the time), and assure him that the fence is perfectly sound ("It's time to lay down in bed," I say, over and over.) When he tries to actually climb over the fence (get out of bed), I calmly and gently lay him back down.
 
Other times I would have taken down parts of the new fence section, or even the whole thing (got him some cereal, read him a story, put in a video), but I've learned from experience that this would only result in more testing of other fence sections (screaming and crying because I used the white bowl instead of the green one, or because the book he picked had a crayon mark in one corner, or constantly changing his mind about which video to watch.) After all, if I messed up this section of fence, which may seem small and insignificant out back here where there's no road and no way for any dragons to reach us, how can he be sure I didn't mess up other sections of fence as well? How can he rest knowing that the most-important front gate of this fence could also be seriously flawed?
 
After all that vigorous testing, Ricky is finally satisfied that the new section is sound. Satisfied enough to sleep, at least. Tomorrow, or the next day, he may be concerned how it weathered that rainstorm (me changing my mind and serving ice cream for breakfast after all) and have to test it again, and tiring as it is, that's probably a good thing. I am new to fence-making, after all, and I do use the feedback. Maybe in time, after several strong, sound sections of fence have withstood Ricky's repeated and varied and unrelenting tests, Ricky will begin to trust my fence-making abilities and will feel comfortable with the same kind of simple once-overs his brothers give. 
 
Or maybe not. But either way, I am beginning to see the value, or at least the importance to him, of having a strong, sound, well-built, and most of all well-tested fence to protect us.
 
 
Update from '07: Ricky has actually gained some confidence in my fence-building skills. Whew! He is now nine years old, and at the time I wrote this that I was skeptical that he would ever quit testing everything so strenuously! I am so thankful to him, though, because I am now much more confident in not just my fence-building skills, but in my ability to develop a relationship with practically anyone, and my ability to cope with adversity, stress, and just about anything life throws at me. This article is really about having confidence in yourself as a parent. Your child wants you, and needs you, to above all trust yourself as a leader, as a guide, as a parent. Children need fences.
 
 

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 Okay, here we go!  This is the official Defrost parenting community.  I'll post articles as I see fit, and members can join and post questions, rants, pleas for sanity, etc. which I will do my best to respond to.