Love Isn't Always Gentle

Administrivia:  A blog on art has been commissioned...that will be forthcoming.

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I think I would have made a pretty fair father.

I still wish I'd had the opportunity--the CAS adoption rejection of 2005 still stings me, likely will for the rest of my life. But that ship sailed long ago. Doesn't keep me from looking out to sea every now and again. And when I do, I see 'good' kids and 'bad' kids. Oddly -- or maybe not so oddly when I think about the adults I'm attracted to -- it's the 'bad' kids that most interest me. I wonder how I might have done by them.

It's said that people turn into their parents. I've found that this is not always true. I think the more introspective of us look back on our childhoods and choose to either perpetuate or put an end to various patterns. There are many -- a great many -- parenting wins I would have chosen to pass on, and a few things, looking back, that I would have chosen to leave in my childhood. And  no, I'm not going to catalogue either list.

Except to say two things. One: I should have had much more of an understanding of how finances worked before I ever left home. Yes, that's partly on me -- I should have asked -- but it's also something I shouldn't have had to ask about.
And two: there are times I could have used a little more tough love than I ever saw.

My rebellion came late...after I left home, in fact. That's not to say I was any kind of model child, especially early on. I was a habitual liar, an incredibly sore loser, and the most rigid, unyielding, black-and-white person you were ever likely to meet. Among numerous other flaws, of course.

And I played my mom. I really did. She felt guilty any time she had to discipline me, and that guilt could be easily exploited and turned into some kind of treat afterwards. My stepdad put a stop to that...sort of. The trick with him was to pretend to listen to his interminable talks, nod and say 'yes, sir' in all the right places, and then carry on as before.

John's patience would have put Job's to shame. I wonder if he could ever have imagined that his patience would the the thing about him I would most internalize.

The worst punishment I ever got, I earned. Surprise, surprise, I've written about it already, the last time I tacked this topic, four years ago. (Damnit, is there anything I haven't written about yet? That anybody wants to read?)

I stand by everything I wrote in that blog.

I think many kids today have it far, far too easy. Hell, I had it easy growing up. There was a bare minimum of chores I was expected to do. I didn't get an allowance -- I think maybe that would have helped me learn how money worked, but I see my parents' point, too: you don't do household tasks for money, you do them because you live in the house and that roof over your head comes with certain obligations.

Oh, and I had no privacy, either. It's not that my parents came barging in all the time, but I was made to understand that they could at any time. You know, it being their house and all. If I wanted privacy, I could pay rent. Simple like that. Likewise "my" stuff was actually their stuff under the same logic: it existed under their roof.

I suppose I could have argued this, if I was into wasting breath.

There are things I would do today. The Wi-Fi password would change daily: my child would have to complete her daily chores to get that password, and she would have to send me pictures to prove it. So as to ensure she couldn't just re-use the same pictures over and over, I would specify: clean kitchen counter with a can of tuna by the sink. Would I do this right off the bat? Depends on my kid's attitude towards doing chores.

I must stress I am not pro corporeal punishment. I've seen my rationale expressed as a simple flowchart that I will textualize here:

IS YOUR CHILD OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND REASON?
Yes--THEN USE REASON.
No--THEN HE IS NOT OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ARE STRIKING HIM.

-->STOP HITTING YOUR CHILD, ASSHOLE.

I actually took some flak, positing that on Facebook. I'm sorry (actually, I'm not), but I'm pretty goddamn firm on this. Your boss doesn't hit you when you fuck up at work. What gives you the right to hit a defenceless child?

But oh, there are consequences to disrespect. They bear a striking resemblance to...disrespect. I don't own a shotgun, so I can't put a bullet through a laptop, but I could soak a phone, if you provoked me enough. Oh, I'm sorry, were you under the illusion that was your phone? See above about the property in my house, ownership of. No, this isn't my first response--I really do have more patience than average. But you test that at your peril.

You hate me? Wow, you're the first teenager ever to hate his dad. Give it a decade or two and see if you don't feel differently.

 You might even find yourself fritzing your kid's virtual reality device.