We Floridians love our fresh waters, as much or more than our beaches. In the hot, sweltering summertime, nothing is more refreshing than a dip in one of our beautiful springs. This is where we go to really cool off.

Some of us grew up with little beach houses, but more of us grew up with lake and river houses. My parents owned a place on a nearby river, and it represented my childhood weekends and holidays of fishing, skiing, catching lightning bugs, and hours hanging out on a raft. It had springs. I still own the property, but the little house is no longer there. A flood destroyed it, and we did not rebuild.

Our children got to enjoy a coasthouse, until they were adults when a hurricane destroyed it. It was a great loss to our entire extended family, and we all grieved. Earlier, though, we had a beachhouse, which we sold when the kids were teenagers. It was too far from home, and all three were the type to throw a “hey, the parents are gone this weekend, let’s have a party.” We stopped going because the kids didn’t want to go, and we were too afraid to leave our home to kids run wild.

Now our children are in their late 30s, and we just came back from a weekend at the beach. It included Chuck and me, plus all three kids and their families. Eight adults and six grandchildren all stuffed into two rented beach houses, sitting next door to each other. What a wonderful long weekend. Best of all, though, one of the two beach houses was the one we owned until they became teenagers.

Each family was in charge of three meals, and there were baby gates everywhere for the safety of the grandchildren. Constantly stepping over those gates was like negotiating an obstacle course.

Having six toddlers in the family is fun and exhilarating. The oldest wears a 4T, and except for the oldest girl they are all boys. Their exuberance for life is catching.

However, six toddlers also mean six times the whining and crying. All except the oldest had one or more meltdowns, which brings me to the point of this blog.

When toddlers today are unhappy, they cry—no, actually, it is more than that. They cry and whine for what seems like forever. Here’s my question: is it ok for them to cry and whine until they are driving everyone, including their parents, insane?

On Sunday, just before we left, the four-year-old wanted a toy that his three-year-old brother had. The toy belonged to the three-year-old. The four-year-old complained to his parents, and they said that he had to wait until the other child was done with it. That is when the crying and whining began. When no one paid attention, so loud squalling begun.

They sent him upstairs to a bedroom, but you could hear it, anyway. It got even louder. Finally, he stopped and returned to where his brother was still playing with the toy. A fight erupted, and he was told to back down again. The squalling returned, and they sent him to his room, yet again. We listened to him caterwauling for what seemed like forever. Everyone in the house was on edge.

Meanwhile, Chuck was loading the dishwasher and was having trouble getting it to close. He lost his temper and slammed it, breaking a dish. This is from a man who hardly ever loses his temper, but the constant crying had been going on for over fifteen minutes, which is forever in toddler time.

The four-year-old caterwauler wasn’t the only one. It had happened to almost every one of these kids over the long weekend.

I finally couldn’t contain myself and said something. I turned to my daughter and said, “were you ever allowed to cry like that?” She stared back, somewhat hostile, and said, “no, you would say, dry it up.” My daughter-in-law looked at me, surprised and confused. I told her they brought me up to believe that crying, when it became annoying to adults, was not allowed.

In fact, I remember my grandmother mentioning to my parents that it seemed a shame that they spanked us and then wouldn’t even let us cry. That wasn’t entirely the truth. We cried; and then when it went on too long, we were told that it was enough. I remember them telling us to hush up or they would give us something to cry about. Chuck said that it was the same in his family.

Oh, and that same grandma pulled so many switches off a bush outside her house that she stunted it for life. She would grab me by a pigtail and switch, all the time, yelling for me to keep still. Like I was going to stay still so she could get a better aim?

We brought our kids up the same way. Crying wasn’t an option when it became annoying. There was no time out. There was simply me and their dad, the kids, discussions about what they did wrong (sometimes an angry in your face discussion), and finally a smack on the hand or butt. We only used the belt for major infractions, and it was the best tool I had for keeping the kids in line.

My dad made it clear to my siblings and me that if mama needed him to, he would take a belt to us when he got home after work. I remember frequently when it was a truly difficult day, hearing, “If you don’t straighten up, when your dad gets home, you’re gonna get his belt.” For about an hour, we would be angels. I can only remember about a half dozen of those belt moments over the years.

Now, we have to sit in restaurants and other public places and listen to these whining meltdowns from other people’s kids. Chuck and I have talked about how there seem to be so many more of these than there used to be.

We can only remember one or two kids in our respective towns that behaved like this. They were usually the kids of a family that was wealthy, and most of the rest of us in town thought that these kids’ parents neglected them. Now I’m thinking that it might have been the opposite. Maybe they gave them too much of everything—too many toys and too much attention. Or maybe their parents were reading too many “how-to” books.

My daughter and daughters-in-law all took the time to study these books written by professionals on how to raise their children. I’m wondering how many of these people employ nannies and maids.

I read Dr. Spock’s book myself, the book that all the mothers in my generation read. The difference is that I took and used only some suggestions. I actually liked the way my parents and I turned out, so I used mostly what I learned from them for discipline. I never thought about not spanking my kids.

For some of us, not disciplining our kids would be lazy and dangerous. I wonder what will really happen when you tell a kid today to stop when he or she is in danger. Will they listen?

Here’s how I would have handled the earlier two siblings squabbling over the toy. First, I don’t care whose toy it is. The first little girl would have had the right to play with the toy while the second one would get to “count her out”. I would have told the second one to count to 30, and when she got to 30, it would be her turn to play. Then vice versa until they are tired of the game. Of course, you might have to help them count to 30; but they would learn in due time.

If the second one (or the first) just wanted to continue crying. I would have told her just once to quit her bellyaching. The second time I had to tell her, I would have said that if she didn’t stop crying, I would give her something to cry about. After another 15 or 20 seconds of this, she would get a spanking and again told to dry it up. No smiling, no giggling, no hesitation—I always meant business, and the kids knew it. That usually took care of the problem.

Then consistency is the most important thing. You cannot let them get away with it again. No “annoying” crying is allowed from then on.

Of course, when they get to be teenagers, all bets are off.

So I’m interested in how other seniors think? How were you raised and how did you raise your kids? Would you do it any differently? Should kids’ annoying whining and crying be allowed? How do you stop it?