Mom and Dad were pretty careful to explain why I was getting spanked, and usually because of something I did that could have hurt me or someone else.

And many times before or after a spanking I would hear "I love you, but I don't like the way you act right now."

And the always horrible "I'm disappointed in you."

ACK.

As a young child I was never spanked. My father was told to spank me, but he would pretend to and then tell me to go cry like I had been.

Other than that, I was pretty good during what would have been the spanking years. Teenage years with just me and mom were horrible. We were just awful to each other. Screaming fights, me leaving, her locking me out. I remember being smacked across the face for something particularly horrid I said to her once, something about that if people thought I was a whore it was because I learned it from her.

I left home at 18 and never, even while I was sleeping on couches, thought about going back. after a couple of years away though, we got really close. Now when stuff upsets me I always say I want my mom. When I go home to visit, sometimes she'll give me a bag or box of clothes. When I get back to Dallas I take them out one item a day and smell them. Sometimes if it's been particularly bad, I'll sleep with them.

We love each other, but it's pretty clear we should not be in the same household for too long.

DJ, yep, that sounds familiar. I got along TERRIBLy with my mom from about 15 to 21, 22...we are too dissimilar in many ways, and too SIMILAR in others.

We get along much better now, and I do love her. But to live with my mom? Oh, no, my, no.

Oh, I could. Could have. One of the things that's kind of bittersweet about being in Chicago is what it would be like if she was still here. We really became very close friends in a way that went beyond mother/daughter. Though still with a lot of that in it. But yeah, the years from 15 to early 20s were bad.

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.

Ha! I obviously wasn't a good enough actor because shortly after I had that revelation my mother started using a wooden spoon. That stung a little.

I almost want to have my parents read this conversation so they'll realize just how easy they had it in our teenage years.

Even now, when I'm home to visit, we have our moments. It's just easier because I'm not all tangled up in the situation. I can sort of say, "Ah, yes! Here's what's happening! I remember how to navigate this!"

I went home randomly one weekend and hadn't really made any plans. She asked, "So are you going to see Kelly?" And of course, yeah probably, but no I don't know when, no I haven't made any plans, no I don't know what everyone's doing. And round and round like that, until finally she shouted, "I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF YOU WANT TO GO OUT TO DINNER!" I nearly died laughing with the absurdity. Dude, just ask me to dinner, I'll hang out with my friends later.

That same weekend she sniped at one of my sisters about trying to make plans with her being similar to trying to nail jello to a tree. I was all, "Well it's not any easier when you're using a slinky as a hammer!"

My dad spanked me twice, and I remember both of them very clearly. I also remember the one time I was sent to bed early for being a brat. Mom tried to ground my sister and me once (we had lied to her about going to church when she was out of town for the weekend), but that lasted as long as it took us to make plans to go out for the evening.

The usual form of discipline was the disappointing look and "I expected so much more from you, Kathy." The guilt trip has always worked on me!

Oh, and for anyone who's interested in my sister's puppies and how much they cost, I talked with her tonight and found out that there were no papers involved--they were just able to get $250 a puppy due to a big demand in their area of Las Vegas for lap dog puppies (mostly Llasa Apso, with a bit of Miniature Poodle from the mom). In fact, she has a list of people who called in response to her ad too late to get a puppy but who are interested in any future litters.

Yeah, my parents' usual discipline was a stern talk and/or guilt trip. Almost every time I got in trouble, it was for not doing something I was supposed to do, and my parents realized pretty early on that there really is no way to force me to do something I don't want to do. Usually, the issue was that I didn't do my homework, and they tried yelling at me, tried "no TV until your homework is done," tried "stay in your room until your homework is done," tried "sit at the kitchen table and I'll watch you do your homework," and none of that ever got me to do it. (Honestly, the only thing that MAY have worked would have been "no reading anything except assigned homework reading until your homework is done," but my parents would have been horrified at themselves for even thinking about punishing a kid by taking away books.)

There were some spankings , a little yelling. a lot of privileges were taken away. a lot of 'dissapointed' and absolutely no name calling. ( I would have found brat from a parent as bad as pig)My parents really led by example. There was a lot of labeling of behavior, not always accurate, but I did learn how things were seen - even if not what they truly were. I had a billion emotion storms in 6th grade, but they were more about the utter confusion I felt about every thing at that time. The biggest fight I ever had with my parents was with my dad. and it was very quiet. My dad said I had been irresponsible about something. I left the dinner table . ( to this day the number of times my behavior could be labeled irresponsible needs less than 10 fingers) . My dad apologized about 15 minutes later.

I got the no books except school books punishment once. For not doing a report in 5th grade on Amerigo Vespucci. The punishmet was more for saying I had done it, which I actually had but I never turned it in. I found it like a year later in a drawer. Anyway, I stretched the concept of "school books" to mean any book I got from school so I could read the YA novels that my teacher had a shelf of and that kept me from going nuts with literary deficiency.

My parents pretty much just despaired of punishing me as nothig ever made a lasting impression on me. I was a pretty good girl, though, so it wasn't to big of a problem. I was a thoughtless teenager, and got up to no good that they never found out about, but I don't remember any big scenes.