It happened suddenly.
Little man reached out for the bowl. Water bowl? Dog food bowl? I can't even remember which this time.
I had it.
I saw red.
My hand reached out, swatting him on the bottom.
Jackson's first spanking.
He looked at me, questioning, surprised. I had never touched him with anything but love before. Mama's hands were for hugs, high fives and happiness, not for hurt.
His tears rolled down his cheeks, piercing my heart.
"This is not the kind of parent I want to be," I thought.
"How can I look my son in the eye and tell him 'we don't hit' when I hit him?"
Jackson's last spanking.