I often find myself navigating the complexities of motherhood, striving to be the parent I envision while grappling with the realities of daily life. Like many parents, I sometimes lose my patience, let out a frustrated curse, or raise my voice when exhaustion takes over. But above all else, my son is deeply loved.
Growing up, I often felt neglected and overlooked. I was the studious overachiever—always striving to earn my mother’s affection. My upbringing was challenging; my mother worked tirelessly as a single parent to provide for six children. While her intentions were never malicious, discipline sometimes took a harsh form.
I vowed not to repeat that cycle. While I may not always be the ideal parent I aspire to be, I stand firmly against corporal punishment. In stark contrast to my childhood, I celebrate my son’s achievements daily. He possesses a confidence I never had, and we express our love for each other countless times a day.
Yet, there’s a paradox: my son is afraid of me. As a mother, I can be quite strict. I balance nurturing with discipline, spoiling him in some aspects while also embodying the demanding “Tiger Mom.” I indulge his culinary requests and let him invite friends over, often engaging in playfulness. But my tolerance for disrespect is low. If he talks back, he receives a warning; if he persists, there are consequences. Right now, his tablet privileges are revoked, and he’s missed some outings with friends.
He’s expected to contribute around the house—chores for a small allowance, including cleaning his bathroom and vacuuming. He has more responsibilities than many of his peers, but I believe in teaching him accountability. When his belongings scatter throughout our home, they risk being taken away. I maintain high standards for his academics and extracurriculars. I want him to try his best—laziness isn’t an option.
I believe I’ve found a balance between being a fun mom and a strict one. However, as a single parent, I feel the need to instill a healthy fear to keep him grounded, especially as he approaches his teenage years. This need for discipline led to an unfortunate incident last month when I was arrested for disciplining him.
It happened one evening around 6:30 PM. He spoke to me disrespectfully, and I warned him, “Keep that tone up, and I will PUT YOU OUT OF THIS CAR.” Instead of heeding my warning, he escalated his tone. I don’t make empty threats, so I pulled over, opened the door, and removed him from the car. He was shocked, but I assessed the situation carefully. We were in a well-lit area near a shopping center with other people around.
When I returned a few minutes later, I was met by the police. Apparently, my son had started crying, prompting someone to call for help. My reaction was confrontational, which wasn’t wise given the circumstances. Soon after, Child Protective Services arrived. It was then that I understood I was in serious trouble. I asked the arresting officer not to cuff me in front of my son, and thankfully, he complied.
Being in the back of a police car wasn’t a new experience for me, but it was certainly a wake-up call. At the station, my anger subsided as I focused on my son’s distress. I reassured him that everything would be alright and that the police were only ensuring his safety. After several hours of questioning, we learned that no charges would be pressed.
However, social services then began their investigation. They appeared at our home unannounced, likely hoping to catch me in an unflattering situation. Instead, they found a clean house, filled with healthy food and decorated with my son’s academic achievements. When he returned home from school, he proudly showed the social worker his karate trophies and talked about his experiences in fifth grade.
The investigation concluded quickly, but my anger lingered. I am dedicated to being the best parent I can be. Once it was clear my son was being disciplined and not neglected, I felt the authorities should have stepped back. The entire ordeal was stressful for both of us, far more so than my act of discipline.
We live in a society fueled by irrational fears. I often find myself trying to combat this mindset, not wanting my son to grow up in a world of anxiety. Just recently, I allowed him to ride his bike alone around our neighborhood, but the worry lingered—what if something happened?
I work with teenagers and see the dangers that lurk, from drugs to peer pressure. With middle school on the horizon, I fear the influence of the wrong friends. My parenting style involves a mix of fun and strictness, aiming to cultivate a healthy fear that will guide him toward making good choices. If he chooses to stray into risky behavior as an adult, he will face those consequences on his own—but not under my watch.
Would I change my approach that day, even after being arrested? No. If that makes me a bad mother, so be it. He is my child, and I work hard to provide for him. I believe in my right to discipline him without resorting to abuse. Unfortunately, the law seems to think otherwise, jumping to conclusions based on the actions of others.
The worst outcome of this incident is the uncertainty it may have created in my son’s mind. How will he view me in the future? Time will tell. Writing this has been a challenging experience, and I need a moment to regroup. After all, Little Dude recently declared that iced oatmeal raisin cookies are his favorite, and I want him to enjoy some fresh out of the oven when he gets home.
For more parenting insights, you might check out this post on navigating the challenges of parenting. Additionally, if you’re on a fertility journey, Make a Mom offers valuable resources. For pregnancy information, March of Dimes has excellent material.
In summary, navigating the complexities of parenting can be fraught with unexpected challenges. Striking a balance between love and discipline is vital, as is understanding the impact of our choices on our children. The road ahead may be uncertain, but our commitment to doing right by our children remains steadfast.