Just as different as our little (or not so little) bundles of joy are, so are our ways of parenting; and with as many different ways to parent, are ways to punish.
I am NOT getting into all of that, let me just make it clear. Spanking or no spanking, I really don’t care- to each their own.
What I am getting at here is the step before. How do we get them to STOP being shitbricks without much effort (work smarter, not harder, remember?)? What in the hell even works?
We all have our methods of warning our children that the gates of hell are about to open up on their asses if they do not obey.
I don’t know what all the methods are, and I sure as shit don’t know what the best one is. It depends on the kid (I have successfully avoided the majority of other peoples kids thus far. Don’t judge) and the level of butt-turd they’re being that day as to how to achieve success in getting the creature you created to JUST LISTEN AND DO IT. Seriously, it’s NOT that hard just to do it and avoid punishment- but do they understand that? Um, no. It’s the end of the fucking world to pick up ONE toy and put it back in the toybox some days, and the plethora of excuses I have heard to avoid it? They rock my world. Kudos for the creativity ( “I’m allergic!” “My arms are just too heavy!”), you still suck.
Some of us use middle names, and in SERIOUS situations full names. First. Middle. AND last. I always knew I was in some deep ass shit when my full name got pulled out WITH the last name. I’ve broken out the first and middle MANY times in recent history (the what-the-fuck-fours are getting the better of me) but I don’t find it to be as effective as my all-time-fav:
The Five Finger Countdown.
Ever so slowly you count backward from five (though i’ve heard some people count up TO five, whatevs. Nuance), getting a little more loud, a little more stern, a little more serious with each passing number. Now, you don’t have to use your actual FINGERS for this… I don’t ever, i’m too lazy for that shit and usually the kids are trying to AVOID looking at me when they’re in trouble- but i’d bet it would heighten the effect if done properly.
Why not ten?
Who has time for that? We’re not playing hide and seek people- and if I give them 10 seconds, that’s 5 seconds longer to keep actin’ a-fool an probably fucking shit up colossally. 5 seconds more to be a total turd. I’m not into that.
Five seconds. It’s five seconds, tried-and-true. You have FIVE seconds to either do what I told you to do or to STOP doing what I told you not to before your ass is grass. Period. End of story. Fin.
Five. This is the warning shot. They think you’re just fucking with them, they don’t think you’re serious- so they continue to laugh and mock you- This woman is on drugs! Off I go to HULK SMASH for the umpteenth time!
Four. Still stubborn, holding out, thinking there’s no way you’ll ever count lower than four. What is the woman who calls herself Mommy gonna do to me? Psh, i’m not scared of her.
Three. You can now see panic starting to set in. Three MIGHT get them up and moving, but it’s more likely they’ll still be dragging ass while staring at you just to make sure this is where your foot stops on its trip to DOWN
Two. Break it on DOWN, bitches! Tears. Lots of tears. Crocodile tears, mind you, but the waterworks have begun. NO DON’T GET TO ONE! PLEASE DON’T GET TO ONE! Now, by two, most kids would have stopped being stubborn shits and actually obeyed… but sometimes it takes getting all the way to…
One. Game OVER. You are DONE. This is IT. End of the Mommy Rope. Time out. Toys taken away. Grounding. To your room without dinner. NO YOU DON’T GET DESSERT, CHILD! Who do you think you’re messin’ with? I bet you realize now that I mean business.
We all hope that we don’t have to do this very many times in order to get the point across NOT to do it again (or to actually DO it)… but let’s face it- shit ain’t that easy. There are some times where it doesn’t matter if you get all the way to One, take EVERYTHING in the house away and put it in the Land of Forgotten Toys (aka the top of the fridge), put them in a perpetual time out and threaten to sell them on Craigslist- they WILL do it again.
And then there are the times where they fear that crap happening again so much that they start scurrying in a frenzy by Three.
Those are good days, y’all- GOOD DAYS.
9yo: you post the most attractive photos Me: You being sarcastic or saying I'm cute? 9: not in that photo Side note: he looks just like me pic.twitter.com/b4jeRDdOv7
Roadtrip me takes joy in watching the kids panic as the life drains from their electronics. Yes, I brought chargers. They don't know that.
9yo: My nose is drowsy Me: You mean running? 9: I guess I mean my eyes are drowsy Me: So, you're tired? 9: No Me: .. 9: .. Mondays are hard
Frying pans. Who knew, right? pic.twitter.com/usSQcFGpmI
Just did this yesterday and it was everything 9 year old me could have dreamed of pic.twitter.com/imYQlUmSVn
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