April 15, 2012

Sharing Memories (Week 16): Discipline

Welcome to Week 16 of our 52 weeks of Sharing Memories - A Genealogy Journey for 2012. This is our third year writing our memoirs and childhood memories for our descendants.

If you are just joining us, you can take a peek at the last two years' of prompts by clicking on the Sharing Memories tab at the top of the blog. You can jump in at any time and you can skip topics that you don't like. There are no rules, it's all about getting your memories down on paper. The prompts are here as a guide to help if you are stuck for ideas.

Share your memories here in the comment section, on your own blog, or privately in a journal you keep at home.

Something I remember vividly is the disciplinary methods my parents used. I'm sure we all have these memories, good or bad!

I was never spanked or slapped or physically harmed in any way as a child. My husband tells stories of his mom wielding a fly swatter as her disciplinary tool!

My father did take my oldest brother under our staircase to discipline him. There was a small storage area there and we kids knew that was where Dad took his belt to anyone who was mouthy or defiant. My older sister got his belt a few times too but never me.

My mother never hit us although she did take a willow tree switch to my brother's legs if they were late coming home. We all had strict curfews for supper time and bedtime and I guess my brothers were also too busy playing and having fun to notice the time. So she'd go looking for them in the neighbourhood and when she found them she'd whip their calves with her willow switch all the way home.

I think I got sent to my room a few times by my mother. My rare punishments were always for talking back to my mom, never any terrible disobedience.  I don't think my father ever disciplined me, at least I certainly don't remember if he did.

I actually did a few things that might have required stricter discipline - like hiding kittens in my bedroom closet even though I knew we were forbidden to have cats because my mother was allergic to them. Like scratching my initials into the brand new stereo system and then lying and saying my brother did it. He had the same initials as me so I guess my 8 year old brain thought it was a brilliant move to claim my 18 year old brother did it. 

I also played hookey from school in Grade 2 many times (and was caught), like locking all the bathroom stall doors in school when I was in Grade 3, then denying it was me,  and a few other transgressions. But I was never punished for any of them. I was just given the severe scolding and lecture which always made me feel really bad!

Who did the disciplining in your house and what kind of punishments did you receive?


Lyn said...

For me, it was my father who did more of the discipling. My mother did much more of the warning. Although, I was spanked a few times, but other than that, I don't really remember too much.

I was one of those kids who liked to talk back. I was probably about 3 or 4, and we were shopping in Zellers, and I had found a $2 bill in my dress, and I HAD to spend it, but I couldn't decide, so my mom said it was time to go. I through a little fit, and I was brought out of there, and put it my room as soon as we got home. My mom had come to check on me, and I told her "dad can put me in my room any time, I'm having fun."

Looking back now, some of the things I said, or did even might not have been the wisest choices.

Anonymous said...

Usually I got it for telling "stories" which is what my mother called lying. If she punished me, she would just send me to bed in the daytime when I would rather be playing. If the offense was bad enough I would wait 'till my daddy got home. He would take me into the bathroom and close the door, take me across his lap and spank me with his huge hand. He was a big man with a big hand. I'd guess his hand was about ten inches long. He would always make sure I knew what I had done wrong and then he would say "This hurts me more than it hurts you." In the meantime, my dog was barking fiercely and jumping up on the door as me or my brother was being spanked. If he could have gotten in, he would have torn Daddy limb from limb. I now realize the spankings didn't last as long as they seemed then and I'm sure I deserved them. All the while I yelled "I won't do it anymore Daddy!" It didn't happen too often, but often enough that I remember it 70 years later. My father was never mean, and I always knew he loved me.