holly & yew

So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids. 

Even when they are shown the research.

 Regardless of what the experts in the field say. 

No matter who says it. 

Or how it is said. 

You are either an intentionally bad parent and/or a deeply damaged child.

We can forgive our parents for fucking up in their ignorance and acting out on their own damage. You don’t have to condemn them or hate them for it. They loved us, and they weren’t perfect.

All of a sudden the mother understood how the situation felt from the child’s point of view: that if my mother wants to hurt me, then it makes no difference what she does it with; she might as well do it with a stone. And the mother took the boy onto her lap and they both cried. Then she laid the rock on a shelf in the kitchen to remind herself forever: never violence. And that is something I think everyone should keep in mind. Because violence begins in the nursery–one can raise children into violence.“

Babies are entirely helpless, we can’t manipulate them into behaving a certain way (mostly) but once a child is old enough to have their behavior shaped by an adult its easier to just hit than have to deal with the reality that sometimes being a parent means dealing with things you don’t like, because just like that baby, children can’t help the things they do.

Parents that strike children were never taught how to cope with their emotions. That’s what it comes down to.

Timmy is having a temper tantrum, something must be very distressing to have a person acting this way. Lets try and figure out what’s wrong with Timmy and then we can fix it and come up with better ways of dealing with it instead of having a temper tantrum. 

Timmy’s parents take ten minutes to discover Timmy’s major melt down was his sock felt funny in his shoe. Timmy’s parents teach Timmy to tell them these things in the future instead of getting upset first. Everyone goes home happy.

Meanwhile, Peter’s parents can’t handle Peter having emotions and needs that aren’t absolutely immediately obvious and since Peter is just a tot he can’t simply explain his predicament to his parents. 

His parents have never learned how to communicate with anyone about their needs and emotions and so their own override their child’s. Let us strike Peter and he will learn that temper tantrums will not be tolerated. Peter shuts up but his problems are never solved.

But his parents go home happy.

Peter needs therapy in the future to unpack a Lifetime of Oppressed Emotions.

“Don’t put yourself down. You’re as much fun as they are.”

As he was inspecting the fire escape for bird droppings and cigarette butts, Harry missed Tom’s horrified expression.

“And they aren’t really my friends,” Harry added. “I mean, they’re great, I love them,” he clarified, picking a spot to sit, “but the people here, the people who keep filling in these Lives, they aren’t our people. Have you noticed that? They’re more like reflections of the people we knew. The only real people in these Lives are you and me.”

“So you’re spending time with me because you want … real interaction?”

“I’m spending time with you because I want to,” said Harry, exasperated. “Christ, you can be oblivious. I like spending time with you.”

Tom was speechless. He felt suddenly, intensely wrong-footed. Hoping to cover up the moment, he brushed the ground clear with his foot and joined Harry. For a moment they sat, not speaking, staring up at the starless sky. Between his knees, Tom’s clasped hands were gripped in a stranglehold, fingertips and nails digging into each other, his only release, the only outward sign that inside he quaked.  

“Merry Christmas.”

Eyebrows high, Tom looked at him. Harry held a thin, rectangular present. It was wrapped in silver and green.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Tom said without thinking.

“You don’t need to.”

Tom took it, hoping that in the light spilling from the window to their backs that Harry would not see the red crescents on his hands. He slipped his fingers under a bit of tape and pulled back the paper. He stared at the book’s cover for a full second.

“How to be a magician in ten easy steps,” he read.

Harry bumped his shoulder against Tom’s.

“Since you miss magic so much,” he said teasingly. “I looked through it. There’s actually a few good card tricks.”

Tom was silent.

“I miss it, too,” Harry admitted. “Magic.”

“You don’t seem to.”

“Maybe I’m just better at keeping my emotions to myself,” said Harry, which caused a startled laugh to escape Tom.

“The day you’re better than me at that, I’ll eat this book.”

Harry looked smug. “We’ll see.”

Do you know? Tom thought. Do you have any idea how I picture you every night?

Tom swallowed, crossing his arms against the cold. “I’m moving out.”

They sat so close on the fire escape that Tom felt Harry jerk.

“What?”

“I’m moving out,” Tom repeated, sounding as if he’d been planning it for weeks when it had only been seconds.

Short story: under 7,500

Novelette: between 7,500 and 17,500

Novella: between 17,500 and 40,000

Novel: over 40,000