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When my 4 year old sister drew all over the newly painted walls the day before my christening my parents made her stand in front of her artwork for the whole party to hide it, bit of good ol' humiliation. But yeah, things were pretty laid back on the discipline front. We had a naughty step and stuff, occasional smacking.
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I came into the front room once and found that both my kids had coloured in the whole of the telly screen with crayons.
I made them sit in another room, on chairs, facing the wall.
I cleaned the telly, took ages.
When I looked in on them, they were silent, facing the wall... and holding hands.
Choked me up.
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Possibly this thread will develop in to a discussion of corporal punishment. It'll be about half an hour in before the most violent, angry, intolerant people on the forum show up top say "I was beaten when I was a kid and it never did me no harm".
"any" harm. Take a barbed wire stick to the head for poor grammar. Never did me any harm.
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Fuck, when I was a kid a properly violent smacking on the arse was a regular occurrence, for more serious offences My father would use a bamboo cane, or maybe take his belt off and leather 6 shades out of me. And this was for normal kid stuff. I was never a properly ill-behaved child. I lived in fear of my father and those threats of "wait till your father gets home" had real substance.
Yet he loved me, I loved him and loved spending time with him. We would ride for miles on our bikes. Far more miles than I'd care to do these days. I think it was fairly normal parenting back in the 70s and 80s. Mind you I didn't have any kind of real conversation with my father until I was 24 and about to go to university. Not the closest of relationships.
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The odd thing is I don't think any of the beatings made a blind bit of difference. They weren't for real bad behaviour so what would they change? I'm sure I'd be as rounded and balanced a person now if they hadn't happened, and I'd certainly rather they hadn't.
The times I did really go off the rails (and there were many of those in later life) there was nothing worse than a look of disappointment and hurt, and it really did make more of a difference.
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Had my mouth washed out with soap once, unpleasant...didn't work...hypocritical punishment...
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My arse became so immune to my mum's smacking that she started hair pulling instead. That worked better until I got my pal's big brother to shave my head to a no.1. Success, although once getting grounded started, I started to get all misty eyed about getting smacked.
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Apart from the milkfloat and badly cut hair (he was a barber as well although never did both at the same time which I've always thought could have been a great service '2 pints and a wedge please') I was regularly whacked and he properly lost it once which I've never forgotten/forgiven. I couldn't lay a finger on my son.
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My mum smacked me once, then immediately burst into tears. Even today it brings her too tears if I mention it! However when my dad was on leave he would wake me up everyday at 5am to go for a run. Being 6 years old and chasing (on my trike/bike) after your father at 5.30 in the morning is something I wouldn't wish upon anyone.
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Often was beat with a wooden spoon or whatever was at hand, quite often then hand by itself. Getting hit round the ear as well.
The odd thing is I don't think any of the beatings made a blind bit of difference.
I think this is true too. I always got hit for being bad but I never cared about the beatings, just kept on saying it wasnt hurting me, often through tears.
After that Id then go and commit a horribly malicious act like smashing up some antique with a hammer when no one was in, thats how I got my ownback. -
I used to get exponential beatings. When me and my younger brother were 5 and 3 respectively, we'd be in bunk beds early evening, and get told off for having a conversation that could be heard downstairs (through the ceiling? with a glass pushed up against it?).
It started with shouting and threats, but my brother was and is a complete fuckwit, and couldn't maintain a whisper, so on about the 3rd intervention by my dad, he smacked us on our behinds. I got 5 and my younger brother got 3. I didn't think this age-based ratio was entirely fair, seeing as it was my no-brain brother's fucking fault, but didn't raise the issue.
We were then told that the next intervention would involve me getting smacked 10 times, and my brother 6; then me 20 times, and my brother 12; then 40 times, and my brother 24; then 80 times, and my brother 48. You get the picture.
The fucker (my dad) actually followed through as far the latter numbers mentioned above. And of course each smack would accompany a syllable of an improvised rant about how naughty we were being (with a bit of counting).
That's just one example from the late 70s. By the time the late 80s had come around, things had moved on to incredible levels of dysfunction. But it would need its own thread, and I don't have the time or inclination.
Discliplining my own son is a fucking nightmare. I'm just hanging in there till he starts school next year, and hopefully things will become clearer…
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Fuck, when I was a kid a properly violent smacking on the arse was a regular occurrence, for more serious offences My father would use a bamboo cane, or maybe take his belt off and leather 6 shades out of me. And this was for normal kid stuff. I was never a properly ill-behaved child. I lived in fear of my father and those threats of "wait till your father gets home" had real substance.
Yet he loved me, I loved him and loved spending time with him. We would ride for miles on our bikes. Far more miles than I'd care to do these days. I think it was fairly normal parenting back in the 70s and 80s. Mind you I didn't have any kind of real conversation with my father until I was 24 and about to go to university. Not the closest of relationships.
this was my family:-) I had a wooden spoon til my mum broke it on my sisters bum. And it was a big fat fucker of a spoon. If we were VERY bad, it was my dads turn and he used a slipper. But not like your nancy english slippers. These were plastic on the bottom with little pyramids for grip. Stung like a mother fucker!!! But was non damaging.
I love my parents today as much as they love me and i must say that we are best of friends and were even when i was misbehaving.
I dont think i was that naughty, but then again, i was not particularly good either. Average run of the mill child.
I am personally not in favour of todays anti physical punishment Sorry Luci!). Nothing put me in line in the middle of a shop when i was throwing a trantrum like a swift smack from my mom, and she was a strong farm girl!
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What was your worst/standard punishment as a child?
Posted by
@nickyspaghetti
when me and my sisters were being naughty my mum used to just say 'ill tell your dad when he gets in'
that was normally enough for us to be good. i remember a few times being made to stand in the corner facing the wall after being bad...