A Day With No Time-Outs

It suddenly became clear to me that I was getting negative and angry.  Over time, after one thousand insolences, one thousand disobediences, one thousand hits, kicks, pinches, and smacks, and one thousand maniacal laughs, my tolerance level had dropped to absolute zero, and the greater parts of everyone’s days were spent in tantrums, screaming fits, and tears.  And my son wasn’t happy either.  Time-out after time-out after time-out, and nothing was learned, and nothing was gained.  I had to break the cycle.

Two days ago, I decided to make a change.  I got up in the morning, called Edward over to my side and sat him down for a talk.  “Edward,” I said calmly, “how about we don’t have any time-outs today?”  He seemed to like that idea, so I continued with the rest of my proposal.  “You don’t like it when I give you a time-out, and I don’t like it when I give you a time out, and you are a very good boy, who sometimes forgets to listen.  Today, I think you will listen to everything I tell you, I think you will not hurt anyone else on purpose, and you will not break anything on purpose.  And if you listen, and are kind to people, then you will not have ANY time-outs for the Whole DAY!  Does that sound good?”  Oh boy, did it ever!  He agreed that there would be no time-outs that day, and then we went about our business.

The first time I asked him to stop doing something horrible, he stopped right away.  I gave him a big hug and said “Thank you for listening!  I am SO proud of you!”  He was so excited that he ran around in a circle and gave me an extra hug.  And as the day progressed, every time he seemed to be about to lose it, I would remind him that we were not having any time-outs that day, and he would adjust his behavior accordingly.  It was like a dream come true.  Until his sister came home from school.

Sisters, as you know, are creatures that only exist to be tormented, and they are in direct competition for parental attention.  Any rules that exist to protect sisters are therefore unjust, and cannot morally be followed.  Or so it seemed.  Listening ended.  Obeying abandoned.  It was after swimming at the gym, when I asked him (begged him!  pleaded with him!) not to climb his sopping wet body into other people’s lockers and soak their non-gym clothes, when he got his first time-out.  And it was all down-hill from there.  Over the next two hours he ran through the full list of everything he was not supposed to do in life, from punching fathers in the groin, to running into the parking lot alone, and I got angry.  Time-outs were flying like arrows, and he lost bedtime stories, dessert, television, video games, all after-school activities for all time, the prom, college tuition assistance, and my blessing at his wedding.  It was not a good scene.

After this had all settled down, I had another talk with him, and he was able to earn back most of what he had lost.  In the end he served two consecutive time-outs (the second was for violently kicking his sister as she walked past the first), and lost one of his four bedtime stories.  So three stories later he was sleeping, I was exhausted, and I wondered if this plan was going to work after all, or if I should just sneak out in the middle of the night, hitchhike across the country, and start a new life in Seattle.  But I was too tired to do that, so I went to bed instead.

The next morning, I had the same talk with him, and I reminded him just how much everyone had not enjoyed the events of the previous evening, and we both agreed that this day would be the day with no time outs.  And do you know what?  Yesterday, with only a very few warnings and reminders, we did it.