An Old-Fashioned Wooden Spoon

“You go and read any book on child-rearing, and every one of them is in favor of bud nipping. You got to nip it, Andy. NIP IT IN THE BUD.”

Barney Fife

Sitting under a shade tree down by the creek, watching Eva play with Samson (Maximus sat stationed by Charlotte’s stroller in case he was called upon to serve), I listened to my neighbor tell me how discipline seemed to be a thing of the past. She is seventy-eight years old and has many life lessons to pass down to young mothers like myself. Ms. Martha went on to tell me a story about when her son was a young boy. They had gone to the store, and he wanted a toy she could not afford. He decided to throw a fit in the middle of the store. She looked at me and said, “I took five of the ten dollars I had in my pocket and bought myself a belt.” I laughed at her spunkiness and added to the conversation what my mother-in-law lived by when raising her children, “I will cut up where you cut up.”

Growing up, my dad broke horses on our small ranch back in South Dakota. I don’t know if breaking horses is like child-rearing or if I just saw so much of it that I can see the resemblance. Either way, the lessons are invaluable. To teach a horse to load into a horse trailer, he would use a whip and a Border Collie dog, making it more uncomfortable outside the trailer than inside. If I heard it once, I have heard it a thousand times, “A horse that won’t load is not good for much because you can’t take him anywhere.”

In our home, whining is a punishable offense. It happens often, but we handle it promptly. Eva knows if whining persists, there will be consequences. Getting her way is not how we shut down whining. She must learn self-control when things do not go her way and how to handle disappointment. Otherwise, time will move forward, and she will be sixteen with car keys and uncontrollable, twenty-five and unable to finish anything, or forty-five with zero commitments.

A few years back, I had taken Eva to the park to play. An incident occurred with one of her friends that demanded immediate attention from her mother. I watched as she reached into her purse and pulled out a wooden spoon. She took her child by the hand and walked off privately. When she returned, the mother had a “you’re next” look in her eye for anyone who questioned her parenting methods. Her little girl, however, had a different demeanor altogether. It read of someone who knew the consequences of disapproving behavior.

I told her she deserved a blue ribbon for her parenting skills. She replied, “This spoon is for my purse. I have another one I keep at home in the kitchen.” I just grinned because I could see the horse trailer training in action.

Before we moved, I would see this little girl daily. She was a joy to be around because she knew how to mind and play well with others. Her behavior in public was evidence of good parenting privately. Even a horse breaker knows it is better to start a colt at two than it is five.

Sometimes when I’m in my kitchen stirring with my wooden spoon, I can’t help but smile, thinking back to the day at the park and the impact it had on me. Not that I didn’t believe in spankings; on the contrary, very much so, and execute them when needed. As a mother, guilt seems to quickly find its place in my heart when I have to discipline my children (well, not Charlotte yet). But regret is not what I saw in her eyes that day. I saw a mother loving her child enough to help her become beautiful on the inside and the outside. This comes from a mother and a father who will reach for an old-fashioned wooden spoon when necessary and make no apologies.

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“He who withholds the rod (of discipline) hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines and trains him diligently and appropriately (with wisdom and love).” Proverbs 13:24

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