Saturday afternoon was a contention-filled sibling squabblefest at our house. I thought I was going to lose it (again) when Elise's mean yells carried up the stairs above the cacophony. She can be loud when she's happy, just imagine it when she's not.
Instead of fighting fire with fire I'm glad I paused to take a breath. I went downstairs, silently took her by the arm and marched her back up. I set a stool in the broom closet doorway for a time-out and placed her on it.
Neither she nor I said a word. I started out angry but I softened as I could tell she was so sad. I put my hands on her cheeks to lift her face, telling her as I did so that I love her. Man, those brown eyes get me every time. I told her I was setting the timer for seven minutes (that whole minute per year thing) and that she could come back down when it went off.
I lost track of time in the laundry room (pathetic, I know), but surely the timer would have gone off by now, and I was within earshot. I went back up the stairs, surprised to see Elise still on the stool.
Her explanation? "I set the timer for five more minutes."
I know I have many, many more disciplinary moments ahead of me. I have a 13-year-old and a 1-year-old, for crying out loud, and lots of ages in between. Even my 12-year headstart won't eliminate the road hazards my youngest will create; I can only hope I'm better at recognizing them when they come. And what about the tricky unchartered territory I get to enter daily with my oldest? Again, I can only hope.
I know future moments won't go as smoothly as this one did with Elise. Yet I'll draw from this experience. Discipline needs to be a shaping, not a punishment. Further, they may not like being disciplined, but deep down our children know whether we're fueled by anger, or whether we're acting out of love. They're surprisingly adept at monitoring and improving themselves if we guide them.
I'm reminded of Aesop's fable about the sun and wind betting which could get a man to take off his coat. As the wind blew stronger and stronger the man wrapped his coat tighter. Only when the sun provided its warmth did the man relax and remove his coat.
Whether I am the wind that sharply belittles or the sun that gently encourages is up to me.
5 comments:
Love the analogy. A Great reminder. Sometimes I fear I am the wind!
Thanks for your words of wisdom! I should print out that post and hang it in my kitchen to read when I set the timer for my kids' time-out's. You're a great mom and great example to me!
That is so beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes! Thank you! I'm realizing that when Ari is loud and mean, what she needs is a hug and permission to reset.
Great job being a good calm parent. It takes some serious discipline and patience to respond like that in the middle of stress and chaos. I will try to remember your example.
keep posting your parenting tips, i need all i can get!
maybe it is a good thing their little faces are so cute...
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