According to a recent study, I'm an abusive parent.
Today's article in Salon mocks the notion:
"They do not distinguish between different forms of communication -- harmful invective like "I wish you had never been born!" as opposed to "Do your homework now!" pleas. In their view, it also doesn't seem to make a difference if parents scream at their children constantly, or just get loud once in a while."
I wonder if the experts have kids. If they don't raise their own voices from time to time out of frustration, they must be dead inside.
As if Helena doesn't make me feel guilty enough. That tiny little word "no" carries such force behind it as to generate torrents of tears.
I used to be first in line to blame parents for the sorry state of today's youth. But I begin to see the light. I spent the summer trying to afix a hat to Helena's head, while she spent the summer flinging all headgear to the ground, and numerous busybodies scolded me for not protecting my child from the sun. Abuse indeed! That much hat-flinging would cause any mother to raise her voice.