Don’t Smile!

My Beloved and I found that one of the hardest things about disciplining our young children was staying serous when scolding them—especially when every instinct in our bodies and minds wanted to smile or burst out laughing.

For example, call us weird, but it was funny to us when one of the boys peed in the cat litter box—at least the first time he did it. (It got a LOT less funny when he kept doing it and then did it when we had guests over.) But we couldn’t laugh or it would spoil the lesson we needed to teach.

And sometimes, even when we couldn’t laugh, we did. I know; Bad Parents!

What made it even worse is when, for example, one of us attempted to keep a straight face while explaining to the child why they shouldn’t stick pudding in their sibling’s ear, while our dear spouse would cracked up with laughter.

We began to make up rules for each other:

“When I’m scolding a child, don’t smile, giggle, snicker, laugh, or guffaw, and for goodness sake if you are going to do those things please do it in another room, and if you won’t do that, please at least stand behind the kid and do it silently so they don’t see or hear you doing it!”

In our house, trying to enforce rules with our spouse tended to be more like making suggested guidelines. We are both wired in such a way that a demand or ultimatum is GUARRANTEED to produce the exact opposite effect of whatever the original demanded outcome was supposed to be. So we both learned it was MUCH better to request or negotiate rather than to make demands.

Anyway, back to disciplining the kids. They started getting wise to our ploy of being serious when they were facing us, while their other parent (the one standing behind them) did their best remain silent as they exploded with laughter. The kids started to quickly, and without warning, turn around to try to catch the parent behind them with anything other than a serious face.

Woe be to the parent who got caught!

Of course, as soon as the child turned their back on the parent who’d be standing in front of them, the roles would reverse and Ms. Smiley Pants had to be Ms. Serious, and then I could go from being Mr. Serious to Mr. Smiley Pants, or vice versa.

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This is a beautiful reminder about how each of our acts of kindness can change our world for the better. It’s also a sad but hopefully inspiring reminder that many people suffer to this day and that each of us can truly make a difference, Thank you, GYA today for sharing this post.
Russ

Paul Mark Sutherland's avatarGYA today

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This is yet another of Gina’s many great posts. It was so good that I wanted to share it with you!
Russ

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Hallway Torture

One of the toughest challenges we had as parents was regarding discipline. We wanted to be firm but loving and fair and for the consequences to be effective, age-appropriate, and child-specific.

Unfortunately, it quickly became obvious that what is a behavior-changing consequence for one child could be a nice break from routine for another.

And just about the time we found a consequence that worked for one child it tended to fairly quickly stop working for another—even when it had been working very well only a week earlier.

We also quickly learned that longer-term consequences such as “If you do that you will be grounded for a month” not only rarely deterred the behavior that we sought to avoid, it often also seemed to be more punishment for us to attempt to consistently enforce it than it was an effective post-act consequence for them.

So, we strongly preferred consequences that were quickly dealt and then done, so they–and we–could get on with life. But such consequences that were also effective were rare indeed.

We tried all sorts of things, and most weren’t effective deterrents for long. That became especially true as they got older.

That is, until we discovered Hallway Torture, err, I mean Hallway Time. Our kids absolutely HATED being bored. And there is nothing to do, play with, or read in our hallway. We found that if we told one of our children to sit in the hallway for a certain number of minutes as a consequence that it was often a very effective deterrent indeed.

That doesn’t mean that they didn’t constantly try to see what they could get away with in the hallway.

They tried reading books or bringing in toys or games.

Rule change: No books, games, toys, (and if our children weren’t already grown up adults and if we were parenting children today we’d definitely also prohibit all electronic devices.)

They tried hounding us with questions such as “Is the time over yet?”

Rule Change: No talking. If you talk, extra Hallway Time is added. (That backfired on us once when we forgot and a child was left in the hallway for much longer than they were supposed to. I don’t recall what we did to make it up to that poor kid but I know it left them with a big smile!)

They tried sleeping.

Rule change: No sleeping. If you sleep, extra time is added. If you have to, stand up so you don’t fall asleep. This isn’t nap or reward time; it’s consequence time.

We even found it worked for Two-fers. When two of our children got into trouble together—especially if it was from bickering with each other– Hallway Time often worked perfectly to change the behavior.

Of course, they would try to bend the rules by whispering to each other, but we’d learned a few things by now too.

Rules included: Be at opposite ends of the hallway, no talking singing or whispering, no touching/ pushing/shoving or body contact of any kind. No giggling or laughing. (They would sometimes make funny faces, etc, trying to get the other to laugh out loud and get into trouble.)

All infractions meant—you guessed it—MORE HALLWAY TIME.

We have an “L”-shaped hallway. To make it easier on our children to comply with the rules–and on us in enforcing them—we often placed the kids at opposite ends of the hallway and around the corner from each other.

Hallway Time proved to be the most effective and longest-lasting consequence for all three of our children that we ever came up with.

Your mileage may vary.

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Divide and Conquer

Much of what My Beloved and I learned about parenting was taught to us by our children. For example, if they wanted something and the first parent they asked said “no”, they’d simply go to the other parent and ask again—conveniently leaving out that the other parent had already declined their request.

My Beloved and I quickly learned to ask the children if they had already asked the other parent, and if so, what the answer had been.

So, of course, the children learned to go to the Weakest Link first—who was usually My Beloved by the way. (She’d probably claim otherwise, especially when Daddy’s Little Girl entered the picture.)

Since neither of us wanted to be the “Bad Guy/Gal” and there were times when we simply didn’t want to make a decision or were too tired to do so, we sometimes punted. I‘d say, “Go ask your mother.” She’d say, Go ask your father.”

After awhile My Beloved and I realized we could be the Good Guy/Gal, by saying, “It’s OK with me if it’s OK with your Dad/Mom.” That usually went over real well with the other parent who was stuck being the Bad Guy/Gal if “No” was the appropriate response from a mature parent…
.
“No, you can’t have cupcakes for breakfast! What was your father thinking?!”

Which was usually quickly followed by, “RUSS! What were you thinking saying the kids could have cupcakes for breakfast?!?!”

Kids are such tattletales sometimes!

Whenever I heard her talking to the kids about one of my “brighter” parental decisions, I often tried to make myself scarce and out of ear-shot. I had the most remarkable selective-hearing at such times—not nearly as good as that employed by our children when they were in trouble, but good nonetheless.

And our kids learned that if they were about to suffer consequences as the result of their poor decisions or behavior—as opposed to mine—they might get off easy if they could get My Beloved and me to argue regarding the appropriate consequences.

Beloved and I learned that the best defense against that strategy was to have talked and agreed in private before approaching the child about the matter.

So while our young children were master manipulators, we learned a strategy or two from them as we worked—only partially successfully—–to remain firmly in charge.

When they tried to use “Divide and Conquer” to win a battle, we closed ranks and kept a united front.

We even found times when we could use “Divide and Conquer” strategies as parents.

If kids were squabbling, we’d divide them. If they were squabbling a LOT–and normal consequences weren’t working–we’d sometimes each take a child for one-on-on time so that we could enjoy their presence without the terrible Sibling Squabble-Monster rearing its ugly head.

As I said, we learned much from our children–probably a lot more than they would have liked!

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Yes, I Remember

From Mikey’s Funnies:

My five-year-old son squealed with delight when he opened his birthday present from his grandmother. It was a water pistol. He promptly ran to the sink to fill it.

“Mom,” I said. “I’m surprised at you. Don’t you remember how we used to drive you crazy with water pistols?”

My mom smiled and said, “Yes, I remember.”

As a fairly recently minted first-time Grandfather, this joke is well worth remembering! Let’s see, on my Get-Even-With-The-Kids-List I have a squirt gun, a drum set, Legos (that are oh-so-fun to step on in bare feet on the way to the bathroom in the dark in the middle of the night!), that thingy on a stick that makes hard colorful balls bang into a plastic globe-type thing when it’s pushed (I think we called it a popcorn popper), a rock-polishing tumbler, chemistry set, wood burning set, …

Do you have suggstions for more things that should be added to the list? If so, please add them in the comments section!

Thank you!

Russ

today’sTHOT============================

Some drink at the fountain of knowledge. Others just gargle.

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PASS IT ON!
Yeah, you can send this Funny to anybody you want. And, if you’re REAL nice, you’ll tell them where you got it! http://www.mikeysFunnies.com

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A Deep Sense Of Who I Am

“You rarely have time for everything you want in this life. So you need to make choices. And hopefully your choices can come from a deep sense of who you are.” –Fred Rogers

I believe there is much widsom in these words. As I’ve peeled back the layers of the onion that is me I’ve come to appreciate and love what I see a little more almost every day. And that helps me to appreciate and love the world even more.

Russ

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Ramblin’ Rosie

In my early- and mid-teens I dreamed of having a ’57 Chevy with those beautiful tail fins and those big rubber things that looked like, well, looked like so many things did to boys that age. I wanted a ’57 because that was the year of my birth and because in my biased judgment that was the most beautiful model year.

My dream car had a metallic root beer paint job. Metallic paint was HUGE back then, and my favorite drink was root beer. I loved that rich translucent brown color with those metallic flakes that made it sparkle like a diamond—-the paint, not the drink.

If I couldn’t have that car, I’d “settle” for a Camaro, Challenger, Firebird, Corvette, Barracuda, TransAm, Mustang, or other sleek, cool fast cars of that ilk. All the guys said those cars were “Chick Magnets”. And, oh how I wanted a “chick”!

But I only had $300–which would have probably been about enough to buy just the bumpers of those other beauties—-the cars not the girls.

Since I wouldn’t get very far sitting on bumpers—-no matter how gorgeous they were—-I bought what I could afford that still moved:

A 1960 Rambler.

She was almost as old as I was, and the exact opposite of my dream car. She was big, bulky, slow (I think the word “lumbering” was invented to describe her top speed), white, boring, and about as far from sleek and cool as a car could get in those days.

She had more in common with a brick than the cars I’d dreamt about.

But she was mine, and she moved me, and I grew to love her.

I even gave her a name. Rosie. Rosie the Rambler.

Stay tuned for more stories about Rosie including:

Rosie Saves the Day!
The Time Rosie Made a Cop Lay Rubber Doing a Complete Donut on a Four-Lane Road in the Middle of a City
Rosie in the Mountains
Rosie and the CB Craze
Rosie Earns the Respect of My High School Peers

Russ

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Vulnerability

I just read another great post from “I Stop For Sufferring”. http://istopforsuffering.wordpress.com/2012/06/01/love-and-vulnerability-3/#comment-2178
This one dealt with love and vulnerability. I highly recommned that you check it out.

I wrote the following as a comment to her post and decided I wanted to share it with you:

I’ve found that when I’ve made myself vulnerable the response I’ve most often received from others is a feeling of trust, connectedness, and courage. Of course, until I started blogging I tended to be somwewhat selective with whom I would allow myself to be vulnerable.

With blogging, I’m vulnerable to anyone who takes the time to read my blog. And what I got when I did so was wave after wave of love, appreciation, kindness, and connectness.

You know, I could get used to this!

Russ

Posted in Abundance, Choices, Courage, Growth/Learning, LIfe Lessons, Love, Observations | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Sock Wars!

One day when our boys were still fairly young, I kidded my Beloved about something as she sorted and matched a basket of clean socks and was rolling the matched pairs into little balls to keep them together. The next thing I knew a pair of rolled up socks was flying at me at roughly the speed of sound and hit me squarely between the eyes!

My Beloved still had her amazingly accurate throwing arm back then and she knew how to use it!

Luckily, a pair of rolled up cotton socks rolled up into a ball has not much greater impact than a, well, a cotton ball.

“Two can play that game”, I yelled as I ran over and grabbed a bunch of the sock-balls from her pile then ran behind a couch and lobbed a pair at her. She ducked behind a chair with a handful of her own, and the “Sock War” was on!

By now our boys were laughing hysterically. They grabbed some sock balls ducked behind furniture and the war escalated. Socks balls were flying everywhere and bouncing off of everyone and everything! We were all laughing so hard that our eyes began watering.

The cool thing about Sock Wars (besides that no one in our family ever got hurt fighting them) is that no one ever runs out of ammunition!

We played until our arms couldn’t throw anymore and we’d laughed so long and hard that our jaws ached.

“Sock Wars” became one of our favorite family traditions and we often played it.

The game’s only rule was that you couldn’t throw dirty socks. Considering how smelly the boys and my feet were, I suspect that it was my Beloved who probably insisted on that rule!

Ironically, it was among the funnest (I know that spell-check doesn’t consider “funniest” to be a real word, but if it isn’t, it SHOULD be!) and funniest things we’ve ever done as a family and it was FREE!

Other than the cost of an occasional re-washing of a load of socks, of course!

(I had to throw that last sentence in there just in case my Beloved ever reads this post!)

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