Friday, November 19, 2010

Fear Factor

I've discovered yet another flaw in my parenting skills. I'm missing the fear factor. Even with my second degree black belt (for which I broke concrete, for cryin' out loud), my children are not afraid of me. This became readily apparent when I recently engaged Ian's services in helping me rake leaves. As devoted Freakin' Angel readers know, Ian is my lovable but less-than-highly-motivated 12-year-old son. Ian prefers not to rake leaves. Or empty the dishwasher. Or lift a finger unless it's attached to a Wii controller, TV remote, or computer mouse.

When I threatened to beat Ian with the rake for failure to adequately engage in the task at hand, he looked at me with dead seriousness and through clenched teeth informed me that he "wasn't afraid to call the police" to report me. I told him to feel free to make that call and then get back to work.

More than a week later I am still replaying this little confrontation in my mind. Not because I'm upset at Ian's reaction, but rather because I realize Rob and I have failed to develop a healthy fear of mom and dad in our children. And yes, I do think it's healthy. Really.

I feared my parents. They'd probably prefer I say that I respected them instead of feared them, but as a kid I can tell you there was definitely a fear factor there. I knew where the wooden paddle was kept, and I knew that it would be used if I got out of line. I also knew that it hurt like hell if I didn't move my hands out of the way of the impending butt swat. As I got older the paddlings gave way to the use of the fear in teaching life lessons. I heard scary stories of kids who did drugs, drank alcohol, drove drunk, had sex, hung out with the wrong crowd, etc. It may not be the teaching method preferred by parenting experts, but it worked like a charm on me. I was practically a saint all through high school.

Rob and I don't have a paddle nor would we be inclined to use one, but on the rare occasion when I've spanked Ian with my hand the result has been righteous indignation. He either looks at me with angry disbelief or cries and heads to his room to slam the door on us. Definitely no fear there, just fury.

I'm pretty sure I can't change parenting tactics mid-stream, but in hindsight I might have done it differently. What say you, Freakin' Angel readers?

4 comments:

Joanzbenz said...

http://www.philly.com/inquirer/opinion/20101119_Sympathy_for_the_lady_in_the_GPS.html

Kim, along those lines, enjoy the above article in today's Inquirer.

Emily said...

I think we definitely parent differently than our parents did. I too was scared of my parents -- not because they spanked or hit but because they didn't take any crap and they didn't negotiate. Nothing was worse than pushing them too far because then you were totally screwed and they would not give in on punishments like, uh, I do. I think they had it right. Im just too tired to be the enforcer.

Robert Alek said...

When it's all said and done, it's really just a contest of will. All you really have is the size and strength advantage. That boils down to fear of pain and Mom and Dad's "scarey anger". If you were a dog you would just bite your puppy and all would be well. Life lesson learned.

Robert Alek said...

you can break concrete? That's cool.