No offense and much thanks for the offer, Kat, but I am not going to be in any way responsible for you stepping foot in a hospital. Not now.

What I am going to do is try deep breathing, biofeedback, and a sleep mask.

sara, I'm still freaked by the world's tallest man putting his arm in a dolphin to save it.

Um, don't read my whitefont.

ita, hope you get some improvement fast and tidily!

I'm terribly something when it comes to critters. It can be embarassing. When I needed a good cry for whatever reason I had a book about a 3 legged cat and another about a hedgehog and another about a raccoon that would basically render me incapacited by saltwater. And yet, I've been the efficient triager of critters. I'm getting more so about kids (uh, freaked out, not triager,) but the fact I completely freak out over a hedgehog still is odd. I guess it is necessary distance, one that is closing as I acquire more kids into my family. I wonder if it is a function of survival that you start with a distance and then by familiarity, lose it.

too late. whitefont read.

ita, I'm oddly comfortable in hospitals. Offer still stands. I think I'll go vege in front of the TV. I have my cell if you change your mind.

SORRY.

enh. no worries, sara. It's what made me think of the dolphin. I blame lisah for that knowledge.

I didn't really get physically punished much as a kid, which was due to a mix of being quiet and well-behaved (my, how times change on that last!) and my mom making clear to my dad that the style of whippings he and his siblings had routinely earned back in the 1940s would not fly in her house. Apparently, there was an incident when I was a toddler that revealed both their differing takes on corporal punishment and the previously unsuspected fact that Mom's meek exterior concealed a lose-your-shit-and-fuck-people-up temper like unto Krakatoa.

I'm sorry Mac has hit that stage, msbelle. I hope it's relatively short lived.

I was actually a fairly good kid, at least as far as my parents knew.

My parents yelled, and I'm sure I got "selfish brat" many a time, nearly all deserved. I was pretty self-aware as a kid. though. I think there's a big difference in impact if it's coming out of nowhere, or for really just being a kid, as opposed to when you knew all along that you were pushing it. The few times I got in the shit when it wasn't deserved I reacted with rightous outrage that knew no bounds. Or time limits, apparently.

We got spanked, for sure, if it was something really bad. Or if we lied about it. But the only memory that sticks with me clearly was the day when, mid-spanking, complete with hysterical shrieking and all, I had a revelation: this doesn't actually hurt that much.

Whoa, no stopping me then.

I'm 31 years old, and my mom still apologizes for swatting me during a diaper change when I was two-ish. Like I recall, or don't sympathize after nannying (note: I don't swat. Not my thing.) I do recall a swat when I was three-ish. I leaped on dad and spilled scaulding coffee on us both. It was totally panic. OTOH, I clipped dad's cornea with a toenail not much later on a camping trip. All I recall was the drive to the hospital.

I don't think spanking is inherently bad, I just know it is not my approach, nor my parents'. I'm extremely bad at hitting. Brother and I rarely came to blows and when we did, it was just wrong.

Of course, this kinda freaks me out with respect to self defense. I don't scream, I don't yell, I don't hit. Hrm.

I got whacked some when I was a kid. Most of the time, it was because I'd done something terribly stupid (like poke a run over rattler with a stick to "see if it was really dead.") A couple of times, it was just me being a smart-mouthed little bitca.

Spankings, not beatings. I think the last time a parent laid a hand on me, I was about 11 or 12 and mouthed off to my dad, and he slapped me. Since I get my temper from him, I'm just surprised he was able to step back from me. After that age, it was all groundings and revocation of privleges. Or extra housework. Ugh. I'd rather be slapped.

I remember getting into a HUGE fight with my mom the summer after freshman year of college. Ended up me telling her to fuck off, or fuck you -- I cant remember, and she booted me from the house. I was almost 19, and camped out on my friend's floor for a month, but I slunk back home and apologized in about a week.