Child psychologists everywhere will hate me for what I am about to say but I hope they take a good long hard look at what’s going on in England and think about how they’re teaching modern parenting.

In light of the riots in England, stories about the evils of smacking are a load of bunkum.
I’m old fashioned when it comes to raising my child. I’ve smacked. I admit it.
As bad as I feel about that smack, I know I don’t want an anti-social child who disrespects adults. I don’t want a child who bites, pokes her tongue out at anyone but the speech therapist or doctor, and who, when I say ‘no’, keeps on nagging to get her own way.
There were bad kids around when I was a child. More often than not they went to the principal’s office and got the cane when they sassed a teacher or started to bully in the playground.
I have a range of discipline measures – they start with gestures and my voice and they range all the way up to smacking. But the most effective is the threat of the naughty spot. Bare wooden floorboards in the middle of Winter aren’t that appealing to sit on, particularly without the beloved Rabbit.
My new favourite phrase when the tantrums start – and at three years of age, they come along quite a bit now – is “I can find a naughty spot anywhere. Oh, look. There’s one there.”
It’s simple and effective. It stopped a tantrum in the airport and it stopped another one starting on the plane. Mind you, it was after a long taxi out of Sydney and I thought she’d have been justified.
But for the sake of the other passengers, it was my job to shut her up and keep her quiet.
Discipline isn’t for parents. I know myself that sometimes I’m so fed up and tired it’s easier to let little misdemeanours go through to the keeper.
Discipline is about the community. Too many parents have forgotten that we have a responsibility to raise good citizens.
The random lawlessness going on in England is the result of nasty little brats raising nastier little brats.
I know a child psychologist who gives her children chocolate or chips anytime they ask for them. Why? The theory is you don’t treat these things as ‘special’ and the child won’t binge on them when they see them.
If that theory sounds familiar, it was the same one that Kathleen Turner’s character used on her kids in The War of the Roses. You might recall, those kids were fat.
Around the time of the global financial crisis, a caller to the local ABC complained that money was so tight for that family she couldn’t reward her son with a new computer game for getting a B on his report card.
There are so many things wrong with this caller and her attitude, it’s hard to know where to start. When did a $50 computer game become a right? Do you think he’d get an A if he didn’t have the computer game console? What about giving your son a chocolate frog, which costs 60 cents at the local shop? What about giving him his favourite dinner?
With the exception of any parent who’s child has ASD, if that B was for behaviour, I would have thought an A was the bare minimum.
I was in the supermarket one day and the 18 month old boy in the trolley at the checkout grabbed a chocolate and looked me in the eye. I frowned and shook my head.
He put the item back and his grandmother came up to me and asked me what I did. She told me that she wasn’t allowed to smack and she was having trouble keeping him in line.
I explained that before humans spoke we had to use gestures. Our eyebrows are important communication devices – if you frown you show anger and your child understands that innately.
It was then I realised grandma’s daughter had said she couldn’t smack, but she also didn’t tell her what to replace it with.
So mothers and fathers (and grandparents) of Australia, wake up and find the naughty spot. It’s time for tough love.
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