When I approached Ramon about DD, I requested help controlling my temper, but he couldn't comprehend my need for accountability, and he outright refused to consider discipline.
One day, I angrily called our teen son a “stupid brat.” After I apologized, he shrugged, saying, "I forgive you. I'm used to it." Used to it? I requested clarification. He replied, "You get stressed, yell, and say sorry -- like a loop. I always forgive you, and the next time you get frustrated, you yell and say sorry again. It's just who you are."
Ramon walked into our bedroom, where I was sobbing with regret. He asked, "Why do you keep responding with sinful anger?"
"Because the angry response is so engrained in me that I can't seem to change."
He said, "That's a cop-out; you could change if you really wanted to."
Ramon and I had been through this exchange before, and I cried out in frustration. "Yes, I should be able to change on my own, but at this rate, our kids will be grown before I learn. They won't remember all the wonderful things I did with them when they were young; all they'll remember are their teen years when Mom turned into a shrew. I've begged you to hold me accountable. How can you love me and just stand by and let me destroy my relationships with our kids? Why won’t you help me?"
"What? By spanking you?" he sneered.
"Forget the spanking. I thought that might shock me out of it, and a spanking seemed a small price for learning to avoid hurting the kids; but you don’t have to. Just step in and stop me if you see me start to lose it. Can't you even do that much?"
"How am I supposed to stop you? Send you to your room?"
"Whatever you feel comfortable with. I just want you to hold me accountable in some way for how I speak to the children."
He studied me for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. I'll try holding you accountable. Just remember that you asked for this."