There’s a fine line between disciplining your child and abuse. I’m saddened that the line has been removed, and it’s all lumped into “abuse”. Although, if my mother was alive as a young mother in the 2000’s … I still think she’d continue with her old-school ways.
The lost art of Mom Jiu-jitsu should be resurrected. No lie!
Carina Bayne, Jiu-Jitsu Sensei
My mom, who I love dearly, was a master at weaponizing the closest object to her if her child was acting out (up) Admittedly, that was mostly me before my sister hit her teens. Mom grew up in the Philippines for the first 25 years of her life.
I was raised in the 80’s so disciplining your child a “thing”. Not only was it recognized, it was an expectation. I’ve already seen plenty of memes posted on social media about being a “wooden spoon survivor”.
Again, there was a line between discipline and abuse.
Even to this day, I appreciate the fact my parents, especially didn’t issue empty threats. It cemented the dynamic of cause and effect.
- “Quit harassing your sister, or you’re gonna be spanked”
- “Carlos, stop disrespecting your parents with language like that or I’m gonna paddle your behind”
As a child, you’re almost compelled to push boundaries. How far can you really push it? So when I quickly discovered their words were not idle, and they actioned them. Mostly, my behind!
What’s Up, Doc?
The most usual item I’ve ever been struck with was a half-peeled carrot (yes, you read that right) My mom and I were side-by-side in the kitchen preparing lumpia filling. I foolishly looked at Mom, and asked, “I’m starving. When are you gonna cook dinner?”
While my curiosity wasn’t unwarranted, my word choice and tonality were gruff. She raised her hand, so as a defensive measure I blocked my face thus exposing my midsection.
Mom flipped over the carrot she had in her hand, with the skinny end now in her hand, and she connected with me between the 4th and 5th rib with the heavy knobby end. It left an immediate welt on my skin, as I yelped.
“It’ll get done as soon as you and I cook it, that’s when,” she replied as she almost holstered the carrot like a gunfighter after a successful shootout.
She calmly continued with lumpia preparation like a Master of Mom Jiu-Jitsu, while I didn’t utter another word.
Deuces, mic drop.