What does a “time out” teach? What was the reason for giving the time out? Normally, I would say the child “made a mistake”, whatever the perceived mistake was. Okay? So, what?
A child writes on a wall. Mistake. Punishment – Time out.
Your child hits another kid. Mistake. Punishment – Time out.
Your child yells, plays with the wrong things, talks back, tries something – fails (that something is our perceived shouldn’t do thing). Punishment – Time out.
A child tried something. Expressed themselves. Mirrored the behavior of their parent, a friend, a friend’s parents, a cartoon, people on TV. Maybe, it was just their feelings in that moment. Either way… perceived “mistake”. Punishment – Time out.
Parents for the past 20-30 years tried something new from their parents. The previous generation’s response: a literal “in my day we didn’t coddle kids like that” etc. etc.
Did those parents go to far? Probably. Should every kid get a trophy? No. Parents were trying to learn (i.e., correct) from their childhood. They did not want their kids to feel the same way they were made to feel.
We learn. We grow. We should not revert to previous mistakes. That is what “time outs” feel like. We should talk to our children, not to coddle, but to teach. Time outs accomplish nothing. Sitting. Thinking. Teaching. Time out is harmful. Calming down is not. Better words. Different actions. Changed perspective of the child and parent.
One day, my daugther “lost it”. Yelling and crying. She was 3 maybe 4. Anything I said or did made it worse. We were in the kitchen. She was pressed against the stove screaming. Red faced. With nothing else to do, I sat down. Maybe two feet between the stove and sink. I wanted the crying to stop. I wanted whatever caused this to be fixed. I wanted her to listen to me and do what I said to do (whatever that was, obviously a huge deal, as I have no idea what it was).
I sat; legs crossed (crisscross applesauce). Hands on legs. Eyes closed (eye contact made her angrier). Breathing in and out. Focusing on the light behind my eyes. Screaming. Focus on the light.
Eventually, she stopped. I feared moving. She walked over and sat on my lap. Curled into me. I held her. A few minutes passed. We moved on. That was it. No time out. No “I’m right and you are wrong”. No “if you want something to cry about”, “go to your room until you calm down”, etc. etc.
Calm. Patience. Time.
Posted. Not Perfect.
A Vegan Father, navigating a non-vegan world.
A Better Father 