Backtracking about to begin now…

Before I delve into all of the reasons I failed as a young and more often than not idiotic single mother – I thought it might be prudent for us to get to know one another.

I suppose I could be like 85% of the population  (a randomly chosen percentile with absolutely no scientific data to back it up) and blame my parents for my confusing jumble of bumbling parental skills.  After all –  they hit me WITH A STRAP, somewhat frequently, and always with a minimum of at least 3 lashes.   My mom had alarming accuracy, able to time and land her lashes on the exact same spot making my bum burn…My dad had subhuman strength – able to wrestle a screaming, wriggling child out from underneath furniture one-handed, with a flourish even, commencing his lashing before you even realized your feet were on the floor.  When the strap was not in use, it sat there, resting above the stove fan appearing menacing in its stillness – mocking me:

Strap:     “If you just behaved yourself we wouldn’t have to keep meeting like this.”

Me:        “I know but I’m small and I keep forgetting.”

Strap:     “That’s ok, I’ll just wait right here until you start to remember.”

This would have been around the late 60’s, into the 70’s.  Did I ever consider calling – oh I don’t know – CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES?  No…I didn’t even know what that was when I was young.  This is not to imply that it didn’t exist at the time – I was just unfortunate enough not to be aware of it.  I would just have to call the police on these child abusers – this is what they told me;

Police:     “Police Department, how may I direct your call?”

Me:          “Ummm… I would like to report that my dad just spanked me!”

Police:     (After an excruciatingly long and muffled pause) “Is your dad there right now?”

Me:          “Yes he’s right here; he dialed the phone for me”

Police:     “Could you please put him on the phone?”

Me:          “Ok – but don’t hang up after, I have stuff to tell you.”

My dad had a brief conversation with the police officer, and to my astonishment he even chuckled a few times. Despite my flailing arms grasping for the phone, he held me in place by palming my angry sweaty face with one hand – while hanging up my lifeline with the other.  Obviously the police were not going to be racing over anytime soon to haul my dad away in handcuffs for spanking me – who was I kidding?  I received no justice for my efforts on this day, except for another spanking.

Did I deserve this severe and seemingly subhuman torture?  Of course I did, my parents weren’t barbarians.  Me though, I was going to do things differently if I ever had children of my own (an unlikely prospect).  I would not hit or strap my child, oh no – I would reason with them.  Our conversations over disciplinary matters would commence something like this:

Me:     _______________________ (child has no name yet – insert name of your choosing here)   “…I would like to have a little sit down together so that we might discuss your behaviour of late.”

Unnamed Child:   “Fuck you”

And therefore we most certainly begin to see the problem.  Of course I understand that there will always be “those” people – unwilling or incapable of differentiating between a firm smack on the bum and a UFC takedown.  These angry/unstable individuals should probably not be having children in the first place.  Having said that, I would like to present a pleasing and thoughtful alternative.  Don’t you think it would make sense if you had to apply first in order to become pregnant?  This distinguishes the creation of  life as being a privilege rather than a right.  Much like the process one must endure when adopting a child, or a dog even.  You are married (preferably) but exceptions can be made if you have been in a committed relationship for a minimum of at least 3 years (with of course the same person).  When you decide that you feel ready to start a family – you must first meet with the Baby Board.  You begin your session with an in-depth pre-screening interview.  It commences much like this:

Board:      “So…Mr and Mrs _________________, Mr and Ms ________________, Mr and Mr __________________, Ms and Ms ____________, I see on your completed application that you wish to begin a family – is this correct?”

(At this point the board member who is a much older man with bushy and inexplicably angry-looking eyebrows will allow his glasses to slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, peering at you with a rheumy yet remarkably intense gaze.)

You:   (Snapping to attention)  “Yes – if it pleases the board!”  (You must resist the urge to bob or  curtsy)

Board:     “What qualifies you to think that you will be good parents?”

You:     “Well ________________ and I have been dreaming of starting a family and we have reached a point in our relationship where we really feel that the time is right…”  (You may want to gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes at this point)

Board:     “You do realize that this is NOT just about YOU and what YOU want, don’t you?”

You:     “Errr…”  (You may gaze frantically into each other’s eyes at this point!)

Board:     “This is not like bringing home  a PUPPY – you must care for this child, clothe it and love it, nurture its little mind, body and SOUL.  You must provide a roof over its head, 3 nutritionally balanced meals per day and teach it right from WRONG.  YOU must change its dirty diapers until YOU teach it to properly use the TOILET.  You must wipe its snotty nose when it has a cold or more often even when it DOESN’T.  It will be ungrateful for the care you have provided and will think nothing of blasting feces or urine on your person if you don’t cover its naughty bits with a diaper quickly ENOUGH.  Unable to communicate with you, this child will cry; nonstop at times, for NO apparent REASON.  This may make you want to take that child and just throw it out the window you are so out of your mind with sleep deprivation and sore cracked NIPPLES.  Do you Mr and Mrs ________________, Mr and Ms _______________, Mr and Mr ___________________, or Ms and Ms ___________________ believe that you have the strength, courage, wisdom and moral fortitude to stop yourself from just pitching that screaming child out the window?”

(Our passionate board member has now exhausted himself with this intoxicating speech and is slumped down with his arms crossed.  For all you know he may be napping – or perhaps even dead.  You and your person briefly confer.)

You:     “With all due respect, we would ask that the board allow us to withdraw our application.  We would like to reapply next year.”

Board:    (Without even opening his eyes)  “That would be wise.”