In the grieving process of losing my son Alex to an accidental drug overdose, I have started writing a blog as therapy. Not only has it helped me, but from comments received, it let's others know they are not alone and what they feel is sometimes exactly what they are SUPPOSE to feel. Bless you all who find yourselves in my position; I wish you weren't.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

I can still remember the first time I had to smack any of my children. It ranks up there in my mind as vividly as their births, my wedding day, my 21st birthday. Picture Adam, 3 yrs old, riding his tricycle up and down the driveway and the sidewalks. I was sitting on the porch watching him, reading the mail, 6 months pregnant with Alex. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him going down the driveway REAL fast. "ADAM, don't you dare go in that street!" I yelled. He stopped, looked right into my eyes, and then prodeeded to peddle RIGHT into that street. I came charging off that porch and ran to get him out of the middle of the street. When I reached him, he cringed, balked away from me. I was stunned. I had never hit him before, EVER, other than a tap on his diaper or on his hand. I took him off the tricycle, one hand holding his hand, the other grabbing the trike. When I reached the porch, I looked straight at him and said "Adam, that was bad, really bad, you could have gotten hurt." He looked right back at me and said "Well I WANTED to." At that point I turned him around and smacked him, a full fledged big whopping smack on his butt, NO DIAPER there anymore. He cried SO loud and screamed you would have thought I had broke his butt. I marched him in the house and into his room and told him he was in a time out and I WOULD DECIDE when he could come out. He was crying, but just whimpering now. I sat in the kitchen to calm down and then BURST into tears. I called Mark at work and was crying, told him the whole story. Mark just listened until I finally calmed down, then ever so quickly said,"What are you more mad about, the idea he KNEW he was wrong and going to get a punishment of some kind, or that he cringed before you hit him and a car didn't?"  At first, I couldn't answer, but then I knew what he was getting at. I was by then calm enough to let him go, and off I went to talk to Adam in his room. He was just sitting on his bed, his head hanging down, tears halfway dried away. I sat next to him and gave him a REAL big hug, and just whispered to him, "Adam, I have a job to do, and do you know what it is? It is to be your momma, and show you right from wrong. Do you understand what you did was wrong? Because I want you to know why I smacked your bottom and put you in here." He nodded yes, and said, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to go REAL fast and you kept stopping me. But I know going in the street is bad cuz the cars go real fast, too."  We talked a few more minutes, and then off we both went to eat lunch, and then naptime. When Mark got home, real nonchalantly he asked us how our day was. Adam quipped,"Well daddy, don't go fast down the driveway cause momma will get REAL angry."  We both gave each other this look and then kinda chuckled. Our son had learned his lesson, but didn't dwell on the fact I had hit him. And honestly, I can think of only 2 more times I ever punished him. Now Alex, he was as stubborn as a mule.........that will be my next blog.....

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