Kelly Clarkson Admits To ‘Not Being Above Spanking’ Her Children If They Disobey Her

The happy mother of River Rose, 8, and Remy, 6, Kelly Clarkson, spoke candidly about her thoughts on spanking as a form of child discipline in a radio interview. The topic of parenting styles has been increasingly controversial in recent times due to their diversity and growth.

Being a well-known figure in the entertainment industry, Clarkson recently received recognition for her work with a star on the prestigious Hollywood Walk of Fame. She hasn’t held back when discussing her choice to add slapping to her repertoire of parenting techniques.

She constantly offered evidence to back up her beliefs, pointing to her upbringing and cultural influences.

Support and skepticism have been generated by Clarkson’s statement that she is “not above spanking” her kids in a culture where parenting ideologies are as varied as they are fervent.

“I don’t mean striking her,” she clarified, clarifying that her goal is to employ physical punishment in a regulated way rather than to harm someone. She went on, “I just mean a little spanking.”

However, there are many who disagree with spanking. A reputable organization for child health, the American Academy of Pediatrics, has categorically stated that spanking is counterproductive and may even be detrimental to a child’s health.

Parents continue to choose the conventional method of punishment, despite the fact that the organization’s stance is supported by extensive research and professional consensus.

Kelly Clarkson’s upbringing in the culturally diverse and diversified state of Texas is the reason behind her support for spanking. “We get spankings because I’m from the South, y’all,” she said, highlighting the regional and cultural impacts on her views.

“My parents spanked me, I did fine in life, and I feel fine about it,” she said candidly about her upbringing. She feels that this tactic helped to develop her well-rounded personality and that it was effective in imparting values and character.

However, when examining and critiquing her parenting style, Clarkson recognizes the challenges of reprimanding her kids in public. “It’s challenging to do that in public because people might think it’s inappropriate,” she clarified.

She is adamant that spanking is a valid form of discipline, even in the face of potential criticism. She said, “I believe in spanking, so you might see me spanking my kid at the zoo.”

A warning component is incorporated into Clarkson’s approach to strike a balance between communication and discipline. “Hello, if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to spank you on your bottom,” I said. She said, “This is ridiculous,” emphasizing the significance of candid communication throughout the procedure.

She says that the frequency of undesirable behavior has decreased as a result of this strategy.

The debate surrounding Kelly Clarkson’s method of child discipline is a reflection of broader conversations around human autonomy and different parenting styles. While some could concur with her, others might advocate for different approaches that emphasize non-physical tactics.

Respecting parental choices while taking into account the development and well-being of their children is essential in a community that values candid communication and experience sharing.

Essentially, Kelly Clarkson’s candid admission of her views on spanking has led to a complex discussion that represents the diversity of contemporary parenting ideologies.

Our views on what makes for good parenting change along with society, and different points of view have a place in this lively dialogue to coexist and add to our collective parenting knowledge.

My Husband Brought Home a Pregnant Lover and Told Me to Move to My Mom’s – My Revenge Was Harsh

Eight years of marriage shattered in one quick breath when my husband Mike brought home his pregnant sidekick and KICKED ME OUT of the house. I packed alright, but what I unpacked was a revenge plot so brilliant and karmic!

Portrait of a sad young woman | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a sad young woman | Source: Midjourney

It was a Tuesday evening when my life decided to go off the rails. I walked into our living room, tired from a long day at work, only to find a heavily pregnant woman sitting on our couch, eating chips.

At first, I thought maybe I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house.

But no, there was our ugly floral wallpaper that Mike insisted on keeping, and there was Mike, looking like he’d just swallowed a porcupine.

A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, Michelle,” he said, his voice as casual as if he was asking me to pass the salt. “We need to talk.”

I stood there, frozen, my brain trying to compute the scene before me. The pregnant woman smiled awkwardly, her hand on her belly, looking like she was auditioning for a soap opera.

“This is Jessica,” Mike continued, gesturing to the human incubator on our couch. “She’s pregnant. With my child. It… it just happened. And we’ve decided to be together.”

A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

I waited for the punchline. Surely, this was some elaborate prank for a new reality TV show. Maybe I’d win a car if I didn’t freak out?

But Mike’s face remained serious, and Jessica kept smiling that infuriating smile.

“Mike,” I said slowly, “what do you mean by ‘it just happened’? Did you trip and fall into her—?”

Mike had the audacity to look offended. “Enough, Michelle! This is serious. I think it’s best if you move out. You can go stay with your mom. Jess and I’ll take over the house.”

A serious-looking man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A serious-looking man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nope, still not a dream.

I was half-expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’d been Punk’d. But alas, no Ashton. Just my cheating husband and his very pregnant sidekick.

“Alright,” I calmly said. “I’ll pack my things and leave.”

Mike looked relieved, probably thinking he’d gotten off easy. Jessica’s smile grew wider, like she’d just won the lottery. Little did they know, the lottery was about to hit them back, and hit them hard.

A heartbroken woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney

I went upstairs, packed a suitcase with some essentials, and left without another word.

As I drove to my mom’s house, the shock wore off, and rage took its place. But this wasn’t just any rage. This was the kind of rage that makes you want to do something spectacularly stupid and incredibly satisfying.

The next day, I set my plan in motion.

First stop: the bank. I marched in there like a woman on a mission, which I was. I froze our joint account faster than you can say “cheating jerk.”

The look on the bank manager’s face when I explained why was priceless. I’m pretty sure he was mentally taking notes for his next novel.

A woman outside a bank | Source: Midjourney

A woman outside a bank | Source: Midjourney

Next, I visited a locksmith.

I remembered overhearing Mike tell Jessica they’d be gone for three days, giving me plenty of time to execute my master plan. It was like the universe was conspiring in my favor, and who was I to argue with destiny?

My next stop: my house. The same cozy house Mike and I once lived together, planning a future that was now a total trainwreck.

The puzzled locksmith probably thought I was crazy, cackling as I had him change all the locks on the house. I may have gone a bit overboard and asked for the most complicated, high-tech locks available. Hey, if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. And big.

A locksmith fixing a door lock | Source: Midjourney

A locksmith fixing a door lock | Source: Midjourney

Then came the movers.

I gave them the spare keys and scheduled them to pack up everything I owned, which was basically everything in the house. I even took the toilet paper. Let’s see how Mike and Jessica enjoy using leaves!

But the piece de resistance? Oh, that was yet to come. I had a brilliant idea that would make this revenge not just sweet, but long-lasting.

Toilet paper rolls in a basket | Source: Midjourney

Toilet paper rolls in a basket | Source: Midjourney

I sent out party invitations. Lots of them. To Mike’s family, our friends, his coworkers, even that nosy neighbor who always complained about our late dog.

The invitation read: “Come celebrate Mike’s new life! Surprise party at our house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!”

A party invitation | Source: Midjourney

A party invitation | Source: Midjourney

Then, I commissioned a billboard. Yes, a billboard. A huge one. It was delivered and set up on our front lawn, impossible to miss.

In giant, bold letters, it proclaimed: “Congratulations on Dumping Me for Your Pregnant Mistress, Mike! Hope the Baby Doesn’t Inherit Your Infidelity!”

I stepped back to admire my handiwork, feeling like a mischievous fairy godmother who’d just granted the world’s most ironic wish. With a satisfied smirk and a dramatic hair flip, I sashayed away from the scene, eagerly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.

A billboard outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A billboard outside a house | Source: Midjourney

The next evening, right on cue, my phone rang. It was Mike, and he sounded like he was having an aneurysm.

“Michelle!” he screeched, his voice hitting octaves I didn’t know he could reach. “What the hell is going on? Why are there people at our house? And what’s with this insane billboard?”

“Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound innocent. “Just a little housewarming party for you and Jessica. Don’t you like the decorations?”

“Decorations? It’s a freaking circus out here! And why can’t I get into the house?”

A startled man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A startled man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, honey, you told me to move out, remember? You never said anything about you staying there. I just remembered that the house is solely under my name. So, I changed the locks. Oopsie!”

There was a long silence on the other end. I could almost hear the gears in his tiny brain trying to process what was happening.

“Where are we supposed to go?” he finally sputtered.

“Gee, I don’t know, Mike. Maybe Jessica’s mom would love to have you? I hear pregnancy hormones and in-laws mix really well.”

A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I hung up, feeling lighter than I had in years. But wait, there was more!

In the days that followed, I had the utilities cut off, canceled the cable, and made sure all our joint assets were transferred into my name. I listed the house for sale, making sure to mention in the listing that it came with a “bonus front lawn art installation.”

I had Mike served with divorce papers at work. I specifically requested the mailman to dress up as a pregnant woman. Just for funsies.

But the universe wasn’t done with Mike yet. Oh no, it had saved the best for last.

A man gaping in shock as he holds some papers | Source: Midjourney

A man gaping in shock as he holds some papers | Source: Midjourney

A week later, I got a call from Jessica. Yes, that Jessica. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her.

“Michelle,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I mean, Mike told me you two were separated. And now… now he’s broke and homeless, and I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do!”

I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“Well, Jessica,” I said, trying to keep the glee out of my voice, “I hear the circus is always looking for new acts. Maybe you two could start a juggling duo? You juggle the baby, he juggles his lies?”

She didn’t appreciate my humor. Tsk! Tsk!

Silhouette of a pregnant woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a pregnant woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney

As it turns out, when Jessica found out that Mike was now homeless, broke, and the laughingstock of the town, she decided that maybe being with a guy who had no money, no house, and no future wasn’t such a great idea after all.

She dumped him faster than you can say “Karma’s a b****!”

Last I heard, Mike was living in a tiny apartment, trying to scrape together enough money to pay bills and feed his hungry belly. His family had cut him off, disgusted by his behavior.

They even sent me a fruit basket and a sorry card. I ate the fruits while soaking in my new jacuzzi.

As for me? Well, the house sold for a nice profit. I moved to a beautiful new place, started my own business, and adopted a cat. I named him Karma.

A woman with her pet cat | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her pet cat | Source: Midjourney

So yeah, my revenge might have been a bit over the top. But let’s be real, bringing home a pregnant mistress and trying to kick me out of my own house? That’s not just crossing a line, that’s pole-vaulting over it and then setting the pole on fire.

In the end, I learned a valuable lesson: When life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade. Squeeze those lemons into the eyes of those who wronged you, and then sit back and watch them stumble around blindly. It’s much more satisfying.

And remember, folks: cheaters never prosper, but the cheated-on with a good sense of humor and a flair for the dramatic? Oh, we do just fine!

A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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