I felt like shit. After more than 13 months without spanking my children, after taking my time to apologize to them for doing so in the past and even writing an article about why I am against it; on February 27th, I slapped my son on the backside out of anger.
It had been building up all week — frustration over a lack of respect from my 5-year-old son — and I finally lost it. After dumping water out of the bath tub, I asked him not to do that anymore, sternly raising my voice on my last request. He looked me in the eyes, scooped up a cup of water, and dumped it out right on the floor. I was livid. I took him out and dried him off with a towel, and nearly ended the matter peacefully. But I was so mad at the deliberate disrespect, I bent him over my knee and slapped his bottom. Instantly I felt horrible. I violated our relationship… I had struck my son. I had done exactly what I hated and wanted to banish from our lives – violence as a threat in order to alter a person’s behavior.