Yesterday i threatened to wash my hubby's mouth out with soap. That lead to him telling me about the time his mom threatened to do the same and he countered by threatening to call the police on her and tell them she was trying to poison him. I guess his threat sounded real because she opted to not use the soap.
This made me laugh for many reason. The main being that this is how that conversation would have played out in my house growing up:
little ReRe: I'm going to call the police.
little ReRe's mom: Go ahead, call the police. I will wash their mouths out too.
The point being, my momma didn't take no lip, and she wasn't scared of the cops, DHS or anyone else.
Half the punishments and discipline my mom gave me and my brothers would probably be considered child abuse today -- heck, it was probably considered child abuse back then.
Here are some tactics my momma used (and some I'm sure I'll use too):
biting: neither I nor my brothers had a long-lasting biting phase. Why? Because when we bit, my mom would bite us. She never bit hard, just hard enough so we knew that biting was uncool. My mom was a fan of illustrating what we were doing. One time when i went through an ear licking phase, she made me put my finger in my ear and lick it. then she said "see, that doesn't taste good and it's YOUR ear. So stop licking other people's ears.
hot sauce: i was never a fan of sucking my thumb, but for about a month i gave it a try -- all the other kids were doing it. This habit was short-lived when my mom started putting hot sauce on my thumb. This technique, however, didn't work with my brothers because they LOVE hot sauce.
cussing: my mom didn't cuss at us. we didn't grow up in a house with cuss words. So when my little brother jared said "f%ck you" to my other brother, my mom promptly sat him in the corner and told him: "If you like saying
f@ck so much, then you can sit here and say it until I get tired of hearing it. " At first his 7 year-old self thought it was funny to say f$ck over and over and over. But when his f&cks turned into bucks and trucks and mom corrected him, it became less fun. A teary eyed jared promised to never say it again. And 13 years later, i can honestly say that i've never heard that word come out of his mouth again.
running away: i remember one time threatening to run away to my daddy's house -- a threat every kid from a divorced home gives at least once. But my mom didn't cave in with hugs and sorries like other parents, nope. Instead, she packed my bag, and put it and me outside. She locked my screaming 7 year-old self outside. I beat on the door crying for about 30 minutes before she let me back in. It taught me to never bite or threaten the hand that feeds me.
putting you out: the above incident was not the only time my mom put me and/or my brothers out the house. One day i drove up to my house to find my 6 and 9 year-old brothers naked in the bushes. They were crying, saying mom kicked them out. Upon further investigation, i learned that they had told my mom they hated her and were going to live with their dads (yes, that's plural, we are the stereotypical black family with 3 baby daddies). My mom told them fine, to go. But before they went, they had to leave everything she'd bought them, which included their clothes -- and undies. I think they were naked in the bushes for about an hour before she accepted their apologies. This is one of our favorite stories - -one i'm sure we will giggle about on Christmas!
abandonment: one time i was sitting in the hatchback of my aunts car. I was about 6. My aunt had just bought a pair of new shoes, which were in the back with me. I proudly yelled up front to my mom and aunt: "I'm gonna throw your shoes out the window." The warned me not too, but i did anyway. The car came to a stop. My mom retrieved the shoes, put them in the car, and then removed me from the car. Before I knew it, i was standing on a gravel road, watching my mom and aunt drive away. I ran toward the car, gravel dust in my face. I finally caught up to the car, which was stopped about 30 yards in front of me. My mom looked at me and said "Now, you will think twice before throwing anything out the window. " Yes, ma'am. that's all i could say.
Jared and Jonathan have both been left as well. One time a lippy Jared got left in the parking lot at Food Lion. He was way faster than Little ReRe though, and caught up with the car, grabbing the bumper.
spanking ...in public: my mom was not afraid to bust yo ass in public. Her belief was if you were grown enough to act out in public, you were grown enough to get spanked in public. I got a public spanking once when i put a tube of chapstick -- that i did not pay for -- in my pocket. She saw me and busted my little tush right there in the check out line. But the best public spanking was blessed upon Jonathan. We were at Wally World and Jonathan, who was about 5 out the time, was no where to be found. He was gone in a second. My mom, being a worrier, immediately thought one of two things: he'd been kidnapped, or he'd ran out into the street and was hit by a car.
Of course, he was actually in the little arcade. She rushed over to him, hugged him, and then proceeded to take off her floppy shoe and spank his but, right their by the front door, by the little door greeter. One brave (read: crazy) woman started yelling "oh my gosh, you are beating him, you are abusing him." my mom looked up at her and said this ( a phrase my brother and i repeat daily b/c it's hilarious): Do you want me to give your ass some too, because I'll be more than happy to.
Oh my gosh. laughter erupted from the little old door greeter, who then came up to my mom and said "That woman AND her kids need a good ass wooping." hahahaha.
spanking...with weird items: My bros and i weren't spanked often. But when the time arose, my mom used the strangest items. No, she didn't make us go pick a switch off the tree (that was my grandma's job), and she didn't use belts either. Floppy shoes and newspapers were my moms weapon of choice. I laugh, b/c even though she tried hard, my mom didn't have much aim or strength, so spankings never hurt. But we always put on a show and cried and moaned. She then followed up with "That hurts me more than it hurts you."
My mom had very interesting forms of discipline. But one thing is for sure, she raised three kids, who may not have been perfect, but who had nothing but love and respect for her.
