my inner evil

Two entries ago, I mentioned something new that dawned on me. That something new is not really new but it has come up to me in a new light since we are in Geneva. Making more money for people that already has money is just not going to cut it for me anymore. It's not that I was doing that but it could easily have been an important factor for my next job. Living in a place like Geneva can easily throw you off balance. People are extremely poshed and well-dressed. It's not something I am used to anymore. Once, I was caught off guard on the public transport wearing an old coat stained with milk and covered under bread and or cookie crumbs standing next to one of these 50-year-old-Chanel-sunglasses-wearing-LV bag carrying-women. Actually, now I don't care that much. In fact, I think it's funny and I don't mind sticking out like a sore thumb sometimes. Furthermore, these 50-year-old-Chanel sunglasses-wearing-LV bag carrying-women tend to be really kind and crazy about Max.

But that's not the inner evil that I want to talk about.

There are many challenges that I face as a mother. However, there is one that I find particularly difficult to overcome. It's not easy for me to talk about it but I think I have to go there. I have a tendency to spank Max. Spanking sound so innocent but really after the deed, I feel so incredibly awful. It's so against my belief because I know how it feels on the receiving end. Yet, I lashes out in moments of weakness and despair. I know that spanking is part of the asian upbringing but from my own experience it almost always lead to more. I cannot even start to tell my story but there have been moments in my life when I was "littler" that I cannot explain the bruises on my body to my school teachers. When I spank, it is not a smack on the hand or the thigh. In the worst moments I can even feel the sting on my own hand. I can see the fear and helplessness in Max's eyes and yet I cannot help myself. I think spanking which might lead to hitting sends a strong message of disrespect to a child. What am I saying to him when I spank him? Why is his normally loving mother suddenly a monster? Can he trust a caregiver who also hurts him? If I look at why and when I act out. It's often when I am tired, hungry, helpless and despair so when he's being difficult it's hard for me to find the strength to love him at these moments. Writing this out feels like I am letting steam off a high pressure cooker. It's in no way an excuse but it's helping me deal with it.