Beat the child, or they'll grow up to beat you. That's my motto.
I read an article early this morning about the effects of spanking your children. Blah blah blah, the American Academy of Pediatrics says that if you spank your kid, they will grow up to be aggressive. So basically, don't do it. We don't want aggressive people in our society.
I don't have kids yet, but I DO plan to tap that ass if they get sideways with me. That's how I was raised. And yeah, that sounds archaic, but it served it's purpose.
I grew up watching my older brother catch whuppin's. He's seven years older than me, so I saw him get into all kinds of stuff. Normal kid stuff. You go out to play. You're told not to leave the block. His ass would be on the next street over, playing basketball and shit. He got his ass tapped. Maybe him and the other kids were outside talking and he got caught using the BIG curse words, like muthafucka. He got his ass tapped.
From witnessing this, I knew I BET' not be outside cussin'. And I BET' not leave the yard if I was told not to. And don't get it twisted. I caught whuppin's too.
Stealing sugar cubes from the pantry and hiding them in my room so I could gorge off of them like a crack baby.
*
My grandmother had a clothes line in the backyard. I got caught swinging from it on several occasions.
*
I think I accidentally rolled my eyes once. You already know what was said, and what happened.
*
Took my mother's expensive lipstick and drew all on the freshly painted white walls.
*
I took the slats out of this wicker dirty clothes hamper so that I can use them as ski poles, because I was skiing (while jumping on the bed).
*
Took my brother's remote controlled model car and stuffed toilet tissue in the back tires and pushed the button on the remote. I was making popcorn.
*
Drew on my quilt that my great aunt made for me. I was SUPPOSE to be taking a nap. I got bored.
*
I was eating sunflower seeds in my bedroom. Instead of spitting the shells in another bowl, I spit them on the side of the bed that you don't see when you come in the room. Shells EVERYWHERE. I got tapped, THEN I had to pick up all them damn shells out of the carpet by hand!
I was practically an only child since my bro was much older and allowed to go more places. So I was bored and had a vivid imagination. I was scared to catch whuppin's. I hated not only the fact that they hurt, but that I had disappointed my mom or grandparents. I have NEVA caught a whuppin' from my dad because I know his ass DON'T.PLAY.THAT.SHIT. My grandmother didn't play neither. MAN. May she rest in peace. With her, you BET' not cry. And you better fix your face after you get the whuppin'.
I think that set the precedent when I grew older. I wasn't trying to catch no whuppin' in middle or high school. I knew to stay out of trouble. My last two years of high school, I was living with my dad. I wasn't trying to piss that man off. He woulda given me a whuppin' no matter how big I was (for the record, I'm still the same size as I was in high school). THEN I was afraid of other stuff, like him taking my car, my cell phone, or the credit card.
Some may argue that I was afraid to be beaten or some other dramatic shit that folks associate with whuppin's. I was never beaten. Neither was my brother. We grew up in a very loving home. As you see, I was spoiled. Not as spoiled as my brother. But spoiled. The whuppin's were spread out. It wasn't like we caught the belt every week, or every month even. Just when we fuxed up.
I know some people that DID catch the belt for whatever. They were being abused. I can understand them growing up to not believe in spankings. That's cool. That's their business.
But I can't stand to go to the market and see these bad ass little shits throwing tantrums and talking crazy to their mama, and NOTHING happens. Bitches start counting! What the fuck?! Pop his little ass on the mouth and watch how he gets on hush-mode. You gotta be slick with it these days because they'll put you in jail for spanking your kid.
I mean, you really see kids rolling on the floor and shit in the publics! Let that be me at that age. Baabay. Meet me in the circle, it's goin' DOWN. No way I wouldn't have gotten my neck wrung. No.Way.
Now, back to this study by the AAP. Your kid will grow up to be aggressive if you give them spankings. Am I agressive? Maybe. It's a good defense mechanism. Especially in my chosen career field. I'm not a time-out kind of girl. You're going to know how I feel. I know how to be diplomatic. But I'm not just going to sit there and let you walk all over me.
I think the study meant to scare all the new-wave mommies into thinking their child will grow up to slap folks across the head if you spank them. Some of the comments from the article asked how could you teach your child not to hit other kids if YOU hit them. Hmm... I just knew. You don't hit other kids. Or you'll catch a whuppin' for fighting. LOL. Backwards, I know. But that's what I knew. I was always smaller than my peers. So I was the one getting hit across the head by the other kids. If somebody hits you, you hit them back. Never pass the first lick. But then I was taught that the first lick may be your only lick. Hell, I hated confrontation as a kid. So I wasn't this aggressive kid that the article said I should be.
Sometimes my niece stays the weekend with me. She's a pretty normal kid. If she fux up and you raise your voice, she starts crying. That kind of child doesn't need a whuppin'. She got the point. Her little brother??? TAP.HIS.ASS.
I think that whuppin's should come in moderation. Kinda like pound cake. You only need one slice every now and then. Not the whole damn cake. Who is to say if whuppin's will make your child aggressive. Shit, they may be aggressive because their parents are, or they go to school with rough ass kids. Who fucking knows. I think it's a child by child case. I may not actually whup my kids when I have them. Maybe I'll have to light their ass up on the regular. Who knows. I don't have the actual kid with the actual personality yet. But I am all for whuppin' your kids. I would even wear a bumper sticker on my car if I didn't think bumper stickers were tacky. I'm tired of reading these dumb ass articles scaring parents out of being parents. I'm tired of watching Super Nanny and seeing the kids Ku Fu kick their mom in the chest, only to go to a bullshit timeout.
Fuck that!
Tap That Ass!
Or they'll be tapping yours.
I read an article early this morning about the effects of spanking your children. Blah blah blah, the American Academy of Pediatrics says that if you spank your kid, they will grow up to be aggressive. So basically, don't do it. We don't want aggressive people in our society.
I don't have kids yet, but I DO plan to tap that ass if they get sideways with me. That's how I was raised. And yeah, that sounds archaic, but it served it's purpose.
I grew up watching my older brother catch whuppin's. He's seven years older than me, so I saw him get into all kinds of stuff. Normal kid stuff. You go out to play. You're told not to leave the block. His ass would be on the next street over, playing basketball and shit. He got his ass tapped. Maybe him and the other kids were outside talking and he got caught using the BIG curse words, like muthafucka. He got his ass tapped.
From witnessing this, I knew I BET' not be outside cussin'. And I BET' not leave the yard if I was told not to. And don't get it twisted. I caught whuppin's too.
Stealing sugar cubes from the pantry and hiding them in my room so I could gorge off of them like a crack baby.
*
My grandmother had a clothes line in the backyard. I got caught swinging from it on several occasions.
*
I think I accidentally rolled my eyes once. You already know what was said, and what happened.
*
Took my mother's expensive lipstick and drew all on the freshly painted white walls.
*
I took the slats out of this wicker dirty clothes hamper so that I can use them as ski poles, because I was skiing (while jumping on the bed).
*
Took my brother's remote controlled model car and stuffed toilet tissue in the back tires and pushed the button on the remote. I was making popcorn.
*
Drew on my quilt that my great aunt made for me. I was SUPPOSE to be taking a nap. I got bored.
*
I was eating sunflower seeds in my bedroom. Instead of spitting the shells in another bowl, I spit them on the side of the bed that you don't see when you come in the room. Shells EVERYWHERE. I got tapped, THEN I had to pick up all them damn shells out of the carpet by hand!
I was practically an only child since my bro was much older and allowed to go more places. So I was bored and had a vivid imagination. I was scared to catch whuppin's. I hated not only the fact that they hurt, but that I had disappointed my mom or grandparents. I have NEVA caught a whuppin' from my dad because I know his ass DON'T.PLAY.THAT.SHIT. My grandmother didn't play neither. MAN. May she rest in peace. With her, you BET' not cry. And you better fix your face after you get the whuppin'.
I think that set the precedent when I grew older. I wasn't trying to catch no whuppin' in middle or high school. I knew to stay out of trouble. My last two years of high school, I was living with my dad. I wasn't trying to piss that man off. He woulda given me a whuppin' no matter how big I was (for the record, I'm still the same size as I was in high school). THEN I was afraid of other stuff, like him taking my car, my cell phone, or the credit card.
Some may argue that I was afraid to be beaten or some other dramatic shit that folks associate with whuppin's. I was never beaten. Neither was my brother. We grew up in a very loving home. As you see, I was spoiled. Not as spoiled as my brother. But spoiled. The whuppin's were spread out. It wasn't like we caught the belt every week, or every month even. Just when we fuxed up.
I know some people that DID catch the belt for whatever. They were being abused. I can understand them growing up to not believe in spankings. That's cool. That's their business.
But I can't stand to go to the market and see these bad ass little shits throwing tantrums and talking crazy to their mama, and NOTHING happens. Bitches start counting! What the fuck?! Pop his little ass on the mouth and watch how he gets on hush-mode. You gotta be slick with it these days because they'll put you in jail for spanking your kid.
I mean, you really see kids rolling on the floor and shit in the publics! Let that be me at that age. Baabay. Meet me in the circle, it's goin' DOWN. No way I wouldn't have gotten my neck wrung. No.Way.
Now, back to this study by the AAP. Your kid will grow up to be aggressive if you give them spankings. Am I agressive? Maybe. It's a good defense mechanism. Especially in my chosen career field. I'm not a time-out kind of girl. You're going to know how I feel. I know how to be diplomatic. But I'm not just going to sit there and let you walk all over me.
I think the study meant to scare all the new-wave mommies into thinking their child will grow up to slap folks across the head if you spank them. Some of the comments from the article asked how could you teach your child not to hit other kids if YOU hit them. Hmm... I just knew. You don't hit other kids. Or you'll catch a whuppin' for fighting. LOL. Backwards, I know. But that's what I knew. I was always smaller than my peers. So I was the one getting hit across the head by the other kids. If somebody hits you, you hit them back. Never pass the first lick. But then I was taught that the first lick may be your only lick. Hell, I hated confrontation as a kid. So I wasn't this aggressive kid that the article said I should be.
Sometimes my niece stays the weekend with me. She's a pretty normal kid. If she fux up and you raise your voice, she starts crying. That kind of child doesn't need a whuppin'. She got the point. Her little brother??? TAP.HIS.ASS.
I think that whuppin's should come in moderation. Kinda like pound cake. You only need one slice every now and then. Not the whole damn cake. Who is to say if whuppin's will make your child aggressive. Shit, they may be aggressive because their parents are, or they go to school with rough ass kids. Who fucking knows. I think it's a child by child case. I may not actually whup my kids when I have them. Maybe I'll have to light their ass up on the regular. Who knows. I don't have the actual kid with the actual personality yet. But I am all for whuppin' your kids. I would even wear a bumper sticker on my car if I didn't think bumper stickers were tacky. I'm tired of reading these dumb ass articles scaring parents out of being parents. I'm tired of watching Super Nanny and seeing the kids Ku Fu kick their mom in the chest, only to go to a bullshit timeout.
Fuck that!
Tap That Ass!
Or they'll be tapping yours.
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