You can see from the poll results below, that it was a tie. 48% vs. 48%. So enough speculation already. Watch the video for the final word on the matter.

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Other times, you hear advice and your immediate reaction is to question the credibility of the adviser giver.

I read some advice recently on how to stop yelling at my children, and it was exactly because of the source, the advice giver, that I paused and soaked it in slowly. You see, this trick of not yelling is one I have not mastered. And I so desperately want to master it.

Her name is Christine and her blog is Welcome to My Brain. She is a pastor’s wife. Her family has been fostering, and then adopting, a girl over the past year-ish. Her name is Mar and I think she’s around 11 years old.

Mar cannot yet believe things are not going to change once the adoption is final. Her last adoptive mom was super sweet and sappy during the adoption process while they waited in Haiti. The abuse started as soon as she became theirs “officially” – literally on her first day home. I can understand her fear. She wants to do whatever it takes to stop the adoption, wondering if we’re just “acting nice” to make her “all ours” … and then we may change. She has witnessed a woman being completely two-faced: one thing at home and another thing in front of school employees, church friends, and caseworkers.

Understandably, due to her time as an orphan and also her prior adoption, Mar has developed a condition called Reactive Attachment Disorder. The wikipedia entry on RAD says, “children with RAD are presumed to have grossly disturbed internal working models of relationships which may lead to interpersonal and behavioral difficulties in later life.”

Two months ago, as the adoption date was looming ever nearer, Mar’s behavior (read: misbehavior) escalated. And who could blame her? Right around this time Christine wrote a post titled: I’ll Just Out-crazy Your Crazy!

When your child has hit you, bit you, had to be restrained, was asked to stay outside then crawled back in a window, locked themselves in the bathroom, thrown something through one of the windows, ripped up some of your garden, etc., etc. … what is a RAD Mom to do?

…

You come home to the child who hit you, bit you, had to be restrained, was asked to stay outside then crawled back in a window, locked themselves in the bathroom, thrown something through one of the windows, ripped up some of your garden, etc., etc.. You enter their room with a can of spray paint and a bag of candy. You step over the posters and notes you’ve made for them over the past year (now lying all over the floor torn to shreds), and you just spray paint your love notes directly on the walls.

…

You out-shine their darkness. You out-love their fear and anger. You out-crazy their crazy.

Right about now you’re really jonesin’ hard to read the original post and gawk at her pictures. Fine. Click here.

So you see, when a woman like this writes a post titled How I Stopped Yelling At My Kids, I stop and pay attention. Then I come here and blog about it, not only because I want to share her wisdom with you, but because the only way for me to own up to my responsibilities as a Dad is to saturate my life with good advice. My brain is dark, and advice like this is white. I have to force myself to think about this stuff over and over, so that it soaks into my thoughts like multiple coats of white paint on a dark wall.

Here is how Christine recommends that I stop yelling at my kids.

STEP 1: Believe yelling is not okay. When you are screaming at someone, you are not thinking clearly, you have abandoned love and kindness, and … well … it’s wrong. It’s just plain wrong. Yelling hurts. It never helps. Ya’ know … cause it’s WRONG!

STEP 2: Acknowledge your children learn through what you do, more than what you say. “STOP YELLING AT YOUR BROTHER!!!” Um, yeah.

STEP 3: If it’s good enough for your kids, it’s good enough for you. Give your kids permission to say, “Mom, can you please change your voice?” Also, in our house we do something extra for the person we have hurt. So, if I yelled at my kids, I owed them an extra treat or some extra reading time or they could stay up a little later, etc. I received consequences for yelling.

STEP 4: Do not yell at your child the first time they rationally and calmly say, “Mom, can you please change your voice?” You’ll want to, but it’s better to put yourself in a time out … in your room … while you scream into a pillow.

STEP 5: Yell less and less and less until you are no longer a yeller.

I want you to take 2 things away from this and the first thing is perspective. Chances are, you don’t have it nearly as bad with your kids as you pretend. If you’re being honest, your yelling is probably a significant part of the problem.

The second thing is a challenge. In the comments below fill out your own report card based on each of these steps. Give yourself an A for excellent and an F for failing. I’ll jump in down there too. And if you disagree with any… by all means say so!

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Because there are some conversations you just won’t see coming.

My nephew has a black Daddy that he hasn’t seen in over a decade and a white Mama, my sister, that he has known his whole life. He is a young teenager now, but when he was five years old he taught me a lesson at the Sam’s Club food court I will never forget. The rest of the family (read: the women) were off doing the hard work of shopping. So it was just he and I sitting there, hanging out. I didn’t have children at the time and I remember something peaceful came over me. Here I was sitting with a five year old kid doing absolutely nothing, and it felt very, I don’t know, right I guess. I should have been in one of my world famous, shopping-induced, foul moods, but I wasn’t. This is how it should be, I thought. Man and boy, eating hot dogs, bonding together in spite of age and a complete lack of words.

But then an unexpected heaviness invited itself to our crummy, fiberglass table and sat down beside us in one of our crummy, fiberglass seats. I realized in a split moment that I was not the man who was supposed to be doing this. This boy had a father and I knew that my nephew would never be able to have his dad in the way a boy needs. I was Uncle Chris. I wasn’t Dad and I never would be. My heart became lethargic as my peaceful mood was buried beneath this data, this… tangle of information.

So I looked at him and I said, “You know what? I’m lucky I get to be your Uncle.”

He smiled.

I continued, “It’s true, you’re pretty terrific. Did you know that?”

Then his face softened and he got, well, almost contemplative. “Really?” he asked as he made eye contact with me.

“Well DUH,” I responded incredulously, and then I added, “When your Aunt and I have kids one day, I hope I have a son. And I hope he turns out to be just like you.”

He studied me as I finished. He looked straight into my eyes and positively studied my face, even after I stopped talking. The silence was almost awkward, just short of unnerving, and finally he spoke.

“You want him to be just like me?” he searched. ”Even my same color?”

And there it was. The moment. The kind of moment that, as a parent, you both long for and fear at the same time. But as an Uncle, you get utterly blindsided by its very existence. One second I’m sucking down a hot dog twice as long as my large intestine, the next I’m staring down a once in a lifetime opportunity to validate this boy’s very existence. This five year old embodiment of self worth was looking up at me and asking a question as old as history itself, “Am I acceptable?”

I met his gaze without hesitation and I lowered my face to be even with his. In a soft, confident tone I said to him, “Christian, I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. If your Aunt and I had a baby that looked exactly like you, I’d be the happiest Daddy on the planet.” I stopped there and let it sink in. I went back to my hot dog.

After a few moments had passed I added casually, while licking my lips and chewing my food, “You realize that won’t happen, though, right? Since I’m a cream colored guy and your Aunt is a cream colored girl, we can’t make little brown babies. We’re stuck with little creamy ones.”

He looked dubious.

“Let’s take you for example. Your skin is brown because your Mommy is cream colored like me. But your Daddy, the one that lives far away, is a darker brown color like that man over there, see him? That’s why your skin is light brown. You got some color from your Mommy and some color from your Daddy.”

He sat there, expressionless, for a full two seconds. Then he shot up unexpectedly, and raised one arm over his head before bringing it down swiftly, pounding his fist into the palm of his open hand while exclaiming loudly, through a triumphant, goofy-looking grin, “I KNEW IT!” I almost choked on my food from laughing. He thought this was some kind of deep, dark family secret or something, and he had finally cracked the case!

So I say again, do not make assumptions about what your kids understand. Talk to them early, and plainly, and often. And get really good at mastering that relaxed, calm, and confident disposition. You never know when a teaching moment will present itself.

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If you weren’t so lazy you’d be done by now.

How could you get poor marks on that exam, are you stupid?

You’re doing this to me because you hate me.

At the end of the song The Unforgiven by Metallica, the narrator says, “You labeled me. I label you. And I dub thee Unforgiven.” And this is exactly how it happens. We as parents label our children. The way we form our words. The frequency with which we use certain phrases. The ratio of praise and encouragement over scorn and disappointment. Sometimes, with no words at all even, we can say to them…

You’re a failure.

You’re a disappointment.

You’re not good enough for me.

But it doesn’t stop with our children. Like the song says, if you label someone, especially a child on a long enough timeline, you train them to label others and to label you right back. 

It is for this reason Dewdette and I took care in selecting names, middle names actually, for our daughters. We searched for nouns that are also character traits. Before our girls could even understand a word or a facial expression from us, we decided to choose names for them to help set a foundation. Before they ever had the opportunity to disappoint us, we wanted them to know what we inherently believed about them. Like Babe Ruth stepping up to the plate and pointing out to left field so that God and everyone will be certain about where he intends to send the next strike that crosses the plate, we too have pointed our fingers out into the distance towards the words Grace and Faith.

But it doesn’t stop there. We exercise our use of labels constantly. And the terrific part is, they’re all true! It’s not like we’re lying. Dewdette and I are really expressing how we see our daughters. The point, the hard bit, is to make the time to actually do it. To get the ratios right. To jog back the frequency on some phrases. To jog up the frequency on others.

Look how lovely you are today.

Good morning, Beautiful!

That’s using your noodle! You’re such a smart girl.

Did you notice how thoughtful she is all the time?

You are such a good helper!

Today would be an excellent day to make a list of labels that you would like to pin on the subconscious mind of your children. Write down 3-5 character traits you want them to grow up knowing about themselves and extending to their fellow man. The above phrases are the actual ones we use in our household. If you don’t want to take the time to make your own list, you can borrow ours.

When we label our children we do two things. First, we convince them that what say about them is true about them. Second, we teach them to label others in the same manner.

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1. We get down at eye level with our little one.

2. We ask her to explain what she thinks earned her a timeout.

3. We praise her when she gets it right. If she gets it wrong, we explain it to her in as simple a way as possible what her real offense was.

4. We have her repeat back what she just heard.

And then something wonderful happens. At this point she usually relaxes visibly and starts grinning or smiling. I’m not being sarcastic here, she really does. She knows what is coming next. She knows step #5, and it is this.

5. We give her a deep, reassuring hug and kiss and whisper softly into her ear that we love her so much.

We want her to know without question that our love for her is not contingent on her good behavior.I think I’ve written that down somewhere. It has been my hope that this will also help her realize that being put in timeout is not something I do because I want to. That it is not something I do because I am angry or mean or in a foul mood. That it has more to do with her than it does me.

Apparently I have been naive.

Something interesting happened this weekend, Sydney blamed me for her timeout! She didn’t use those words exactly, but I know that’s what she meant. I had to sit down and explain consequences to her.

Click here for larger, high definition version.

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It wouldn’t be so bad except our weekend was packed with stuff to do. Both of us were running ever-which-way. The last thing we needed was a fussy one year old tugging on our pant legs all day long. Aside from being distracting, we wanted her to be happy! We knew something was wrong and we wanted to solve it for her.

In the latest video I cover all the stuff we tried, and what finally worked. I totally broke format and just talked into the camera. I hope you don’t mind.

Parenting Tip #4: De-fussifying a Fussy Toddler from dewde on Vimeo.

This whole parenting thing gets a lot easier once they can talk. Ironically it simultaneously gets more complicated. Go figure.

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A prepared mind is a happy mind, regardless of age.

As luck would have it, while I was shooting this video with Sydney at my local Super Target, I saw the worst case scenario I am trying to advise against actually unfold before me. I saw a young couple with a 3 yr old child. Out of respect for their privacy I did not record the incident although I was tempted. Imagine a fussy and unruly child squealing out loud as the background music for this conversation between them.

Mommy, recognition dawning, “No walk on that side of him so he doesn’t see the toy aisle. We need to hurry past it.”

Daddy, slow to respond, “Oh no. He saw. It’s too late. Maybe if we just walk with him down one aisle.”

Mommy, already exasperated, “Fine. But let’s hurry. He’s going to get louder.” (who hasn’t been here?).

At this point the parents speed-line the kid, who is crying “I want toy! I want toy!”, through the toy aisle, with glossy plastic words on their glossy plastic lips, as if everything is completely normal with this situation.

In this parenting tip I suggest a way to diffuse this problem.

Parenting Tip #3: Setting Expectations from dewde on Vimeo.

Now, I know not all kids are the same. I don’t promise this works for all ages. However I do believe in the underlying principle. Helping make your children’s world as predictable as possible will make tremendous progress towards a calm and happy kid.

Set expectations early and often. They deserve it.

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Then we had our first daughter.

Fathering children has a way of changing a man. I quickly realized that lofty musings and wishful thinking were no way to lead my family. So I went back and re-read the chapter in that book. I took it to heart when Andy challenged me write out my goals for my family. They say if you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time. I didn’t want to hit this target. So I opened Google Docs and I began drafting, in the words of http://dictionary.com, a system of fundamental principles according to which a nation, state, corporation, or the like, is governed. Substitute “or the like” with “my family.”

I began drafting a Family Constitution.

It became clear, in short order, that one document would not suffice. Maybe it’s the patriot in me, that my parents raised, but our Family Constitution felt remiss without an accompanying Bill of Rights. So I drafted one of those also, for the children.

After I had worked on it for a while I knew I needed external review. Actually, my new Family Constitution required it! I have a group of close friends and family that I consider my personal advisory board. I mean that literally. I have a group in my address book titled “Personal Advisory Board.” When my drafts were complete, I sent my board the following email.

Now that our family is growing, the time felt right to go ahead and write down some of our goals. Please feel free to question any of them. The wording, the importance, etc. Maybe they overlap, or maybe some need to be divided. Chew on it. Take your time. I guess the main thing I would like your advice on, is if I am missing any huge areas, principles, categories, or topics.

These two documents represent values that [Dewdette] and [Dewde] intend to prioritize as we raise our children and live our lives here on this earth. I’m sure it will be a growing and changing document. It will grow while we grow, as God teaches us lessons throughout our lives. I hope it stays very simple and concise as opposed to wordy or redundant.

That was 2 and a half years ago. Now it’s time to dust this puppy off. Reevaluate. Revise. and Refine.

The Family Constitution

Integrity

• To hold honesty as the foundation of our ethics.
• To always choose the harder right, as God defines right, over the easier wrong.
• To be sincere and genuine in our endeavors.

Charity

• To enrich the lives of others with our time and assets.
• To always rebuke with hesitancy and gentleness.
• To keep a sense of humor.

Wisdom

• To obtain counsel of reputable peers.
• To listen twice as much as you speak.
• To fellowship with God through prayer and study.

And also.

The Children’s Bill of Rights

• To be safe and nourished.
• To be given love, rooted in patience and tenderness, not contingent on decisions or actions.
• To be taught by example hand-in-hand with instruction.
• To be given unconditional respect, not contingent on decisions or actions.
• To be guided in the skills necessary to navigate life with peace and contentment.
• To be forgiven of all trespasses.
• To be disciplined with predictability and consistency.

I post them here for two reasons. First, I seek constructive feedback. Especially if you are of an alternate world view. Christians have a history of being terribly myopic. Actually, I have a history of being terribly myopic. And not just in the 5 years since my conversion, but my 10 Atheist years before that.

Second, I hope to inspire you in the same manner that I was inspired. Please consider, if you haven’t already, articulating your goals in written form, as you lead your family. I can name dozens and dozens of changes Dewdette and I made to our lifestyle as a direct consequence of the conversations we had while I drafted these documents.

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The things that go in the “ask first bucket” are usually there for a reason. Sydney knows she can go potty without asking. She can refill her cup with water without asking. But she cannot go upstairs without asking and she cannot go out into the garage without asking. She is only 3 years old, and these last two have the potential to impact her safety. She has known these rules for a long while now and she is very good at keeping them, but we do not want her to forget they are still important to us. In order to reinforce the rules and help keep her invested in following them, we try to always thank her for her thoughtfulness.

I made a video to illustrate. Sydney was beside herself with joy and cheesiness as she recited her line with me.

Parenting Tip #2: Thanks For Asking from dewde on Vimeo.

When your little one acts in a conscientious manner make sure to tell them so! They hear “No” and “Don’t” and all sorts of negatives day in and day out. Never miss the opportunity to reinforce the positive for a change. They so totally drink that stuff up.

Don’t you?

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Please don’t expect anything too earth-shattering here. It’s the simple things that really catch our attention as parents and this is extraordinarily simple. My pastor, Andy Stanley, says there is cumulative value in routinely investing a small amount of time into something over a long period. And this principle certainly applies here. The power isn’t in doing it once, it’s in making it a routine.

I put together a video to illustrate.

Parenting Tip #1: Walk Away from dewde on Vimeo.

As I said in the video, the key point is to provide your toddler an alternative to the behavior you want them to avoid. I don’t believe that merely telling them to stop, or not to touch something, or to just say “No!” are adequate, especially in the very beginning which is formative. Obviously, sometimes just saying no should be enough. It depends on the toddler’s stage of development. Still, I believe the usefulness of defaulting to a “walk away” directive in most cases cannot be overstated.

Another thing to notice is my tone of voice and language. Oh, if only I could be as consistent with those two things as my girls deserve. I’m not. One thing Dewdette and I do well with, however, is addressing our girls with respect. You’ll notice I said, “No Ma’am.” We want to teach our girls to be respectful to adults and to use Sir and Ma’am. A general rule in our house is to model the behavior we expect from them whenever possible. Therefore, we address them with the same manners in which we hope to be addressed.

“Yes Ma’am, you may have grape jelly on your sandwich.”

“No Ma’am, don’t touch that. Please walk away.”

If I’m being honest, Sydney hasn’t quite caught onto the words yet. Not when talking to us anyway. But we haven’t been bullies about it, either. We believe showing respect is more about tone and body language than specific words. And when Sydney is disrespectful our first inclination is not just to have her use different words. It’s to start over and try again with a nicer tone, body language, AND words.

What is remarkable, though, is that Sydney copies us in how she interacts with Savannah, her 1 year old little sister. That is, she treats Savannah like we treat Savannah. For example, if Savannah walks up and grabs Sydney’s Barbie, or crayon, or doodle-board, the first thing you hear Sydney say is…

“Savannah, no Ma’am.”

Or

“No Ma’am Savannah, crayons or not for babies. Mommy! Savannah has a crayon!”

It’s amazing to see a 3 year old treat a 1 year old with respect and kind words. But it’s not surprising, she’s just copying her parents. That’s what kids do. So once again I’m back to the principle that if, as parents, we want Sydney and Savannah to grow up with certain values or habits or characteristics… the place to start is not with them, it’s with us.

So there it is. The Walk Away Technique and also a little dose of respect. Two things we feel are working with our kids. Do you have any tips or insights into parenting? Have you read any good books or seen any good videos lately? Please share! I can use all the help I can get!

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I remember witnessing this once when, in lieu of Sydney’s regularly scheduled nap, we were out shopping as a family. I hope you didn’t miss that tricky bit of foreshadowing. While we circled the store like birds of prey intoxicated by the scent of cheap children’s wear, an already tired Sydney became more and more exhausted and cranky. She was systematically reaching critical mass, and she was telling us, but we were ignoring the situation because we are model parents.

Finally, her escalating protests convinced us it was time to leave. As I stood in the checkout line Sydney’s cries of frustration reached the same audible level as the store’s PA system, so I squatted down and got really close to her face, you know, in order to rationalize with her. At this point she promptly struck me in the nose. Before I could react it was our turn at the cash register so Dewdette picked her up and carried her out of the store.

Ironically, we were in the middle of reading a book called Scream Free Parenting and we had been trying to follow the advice of the author (Hal Runkel). One thing he hammers home is that we, as parents, need to keep our cool and be calm and consistent. Raising our kids is an emotional endeavor, but if we can’t get control of our emotions, what gives us the right to expect our kids to control theirs?

I walked out of the store with our loot and found Sydney absolutely hysterical and Mommy being cool, calm, collected and firm. She had deduced that trying to drag a hysterical 2 year old through a busy parking lot alone was not a safe option, so she had restrained Sydney by putting her in a make-shift timeout corner formed by the exterior of the store. I stood back and let her handle the situation. At this point we could have both managed to man-handle Sydney safely into the car, but Mommy was trying to wait her out and calm her down. In fact she kept repeating just that, “Sydney, please calm down. Calm down honey. We’re going to stay here, and you are going to stay in the corner, until you calm down.” Meanwhile Sydney was doing everything in her power to get out of that corner. She was screaming, flailing her arms, pushing herself away from the corner, and kicking her feet. Mommy was consistently keeping her restrained to the corner and repeating her words. Sticking to our guns and waiting for her to run out of gas seemed like the best option to me, too, so I stayed out of the way, but close enough to help if needed.

And that’s when we were blind-sided by the social worker.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m a social worker and I’m also a parent, so I have experience with this, and I just want you to know that technically what your wife is doing right now is considered child abuse.”

It is amazing how this woman had found the exact right combination of words to turn my brain and my tongue to complete pudding. By the grace of God alone Dewdette did not hear her.

She continued, “Now I’m not saying that as a threat, I’m not going to report this, but I just want you to know so that you and your wife can make better decisions in the future.”

Somewhere in the pudding I managed to find the words, “So now we’re not even supposed to restrain our children in public?”

“Oh I’m not saying that,” she protested, “I’m just saying that this sort of thing should be handled privately in the home. Also, you and your wife should consider taking some parenting classes. You can find more information about them on the government website.”

And then she left.

I have two regrets concerning this whole ordeal. The first is my part in creating the situation. The bible talks about making sure we don’t exasperate our children, and I think that is terrific advice. After the tears and crying and feeling like we were run over by an emotional garbage truck, we were able to stop and legitimately reflect on the situation. We realized that we had made an unwise decision to take Sydney shopping at the exact same time that her body is programmed to be sleeping. We pushed her past her limits and that is our fault.

My second regret is that I was so blitzed by this woman that I followed her advice immediately. I took over with Sydney, picked her up kicking and screaming, carried her across the parking lot, forced her into her car seat and strapped her in. She went totally ballistic trying to get out of the car seat all the way home. It was unsafe, unwise, and traumatic on the whole family. In hind sight I can think of several safer alternatives.

I’m not here to slander social workers. They perform many needed services to our community. I’m also not here to have you tell me we were right and she was wrong. This isn’t a compliment fishing expedition.

What I am here to do is help you avoid making the same mistakes I have made. In this case I know I made a few and I do not care to reproduce them. Dewdette and I made a family rule that day and as silly and shallow as it sounds on the surface, here it is.

Being good parents is more important than shopping.

Only in America, right? We’ve applied the underlying principle to our lives also. Which means we have skipped out on doing many things that would have been fun so that we can keep our girls happy. Being a parent means making sacrifices and we don’t regret that.

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August 10th, 2007

I am now a father. Again. Our newborn daughter is 3 weeks old today.

My wife and I were driving the other day and she made the comment, “Our new little girl is an uncarved block.” Apparently that is one of the concepts from Taoism that she remembered from studying The Tao of Pooh. We start out like an uncarved block of some sort and we are shaped and formed through our upbrining, our environments, and our life experiences into the people we are today.

I think this is true.

Does she know what love is? Does she know hatred? Compassion or mercy? Envy, jealousy, or anger? I don’t mean does she understand the concepts on an intellectual level, that would be silly. But does she feel any of these things?

I don’t think so.

I think at this stage of her life she really only feels generic, high-level emotions and feelings. Like comfort and discomfort. Or satisfaction and dissatisfaction. She is really rather selfish this way. All newborns are, it’s a matter of survival for them.

So it’s up to us. My wife and I, I mean. To model for her the advanced concepts surrounding how to deal with complex feelings such as love and hate and mercy and justice. This is our responsibility that we welcomed and looked forward to before we even decided to have her. This is not our burden, this is our joy.

But as I reflected on all this it occurred to me that I too was once an uncarved block. And the decisions I have made throughout my life have contributed to my current shape and form. It is not just our environments, our upbringing, and our experiences that shave layers off our block, we too have a hand in the sculpting process. We have influence and on a spiritual level, I believe we are accountable for it.

How I wish I could uncarve certain areas of my character. Or better yet, if only I could re-carve them. I could go around as Dewde – The Re-carved Block. Need a little less selfishness? No problem! How about some extra forgiveness towards others? That would be splendid. Let us not forget humility and benevolence. Never more in short supply!

My wife and I are very deliberate in our parenting. We know we are not the only sculptors that will be chiseling away at our daughters as they move from uncarved blocks to beautiful works of art. We hope and pray that Jesus will play a pivotal role. We hope and pray that their friends and family will do them justice. And we hope, with all our hearts, that they themselves will pick up their chisels and desire to work on themselves as a lifelong process.

All we can do is point them in the right direction and model it for them ourselves.

Note: I realize I have completely butchered Taoism and the principle of the Uncarved Block. My only excuse is that I’m a Christian, not a Taoist. I mean no offense.Popular Posts:

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So we were a little surprised when we showed up to daycare and were notified that she had been lifting her dress and showing her privates to her friends. Repeatedly. Even after the teacher told her to stop. When she got home we had a sit-down talk with her about keeping her privates, well, private. We also told her that from now on she was required to wear shorts underneath her dresses. We concluded with a reenforcement that she needs to listen to her teacher or she would have consequences.

The next day she promptly kicked her teacher because she didn’t get her own way. We did the typical routine of making her apologize to the teacher and then standing her in a corner when she got home (one minute per year of age). We told her that if she got a bad report tomorrow we were sending her to bed immediately after dinner. That we were removing all her stuffed animals and toys from her room and she would have to earn them back with good behavior, one toy per day, after that.

The next day she did an excellent job of not kicking her teacher! This was probably due to the fact that she was so distracted from biting her friend Amon because he had something she wanted.

*sigh*

When we got home we calmly explained to her what she did wrong. Then we put her in her bedroom on her bed and she watched us remove all her toys in complete silence. She stayed in there alone, with the door shut, until dinner time. She ate with us and then went back to bed for the night. This sucked! We hated doing this!

The next morning we got ready for daycare. I asked her if she was going to be good and she said, “Yes, Daddy.” I wanted her to have a goal, you know? Something to look forward to. So we looked over her toys and she picked out which one she wanted to earn back first. It was very exciting and she picked out a sticker book that she loves to sleep with. I told her, “Listen to your teacher and obey her and tonight you can stay up and sleep with your sticker book.”

I walked into daycare after work that day with an anxious heart. Another kids Mom was in the room talking to the teacher when I approached Sydney, who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Did you bite any of your friends today?” I asked.

“Nope!” she beamed.

“Did you kick your teacher?” I asked, looking hopeful.

“Nope!” she bubbled.

I’m pretty sure I had the attention of the Mom in the room as I went in for the final question.

“Did you show any kids your privates?”

“No Daddy, I was good!” she cheered.

“Great! Job! Sydney!! High five!” I rejoiced.

She went on to earn back 3 more toys and by the fourth we went ahead and moved all her toys back into her room. She has had good reports since then.

I think delivering on a promise to discipline is crucial to building trust with our girls. We didn’t blindside her with unexpected consequences, we set expectations and then we delivered. I also think it is important to remind them that toys and fun time are privileges, not rights, that need to be earned and maintained. We do these things out of love, because they are not easy. If you are a parent then you know what I am talking about. It is not easy to disappoint your kids and watch them bear the consequences of their actions.

But I want Sydney and Savannah to bear those consequences in our controlled environment. Because I know if we don’t, they will go out into the world and they won’t give their own actions the respect they warrant. If Dewdette and I fail, and give in, our daughters will be left to learn about consequences on the world’s terms. And the world will be far less predictable, far less compassionate, and far less just.

Worldly consequences, inevitably, leave scars. Popular Posts:

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You probably already know this, but your mother is a rock star.

Sydney, every morning when you wake up and walk bleary eyed and half conscious into our bathroom, where we are getting ready for work, your mother drops whatever she is doing and goes abso-frickin-lutely bananas. “SYDNEY’S AWAKE!” she screams and tramples towards you precariously. You brace yourself and squeal, knowing what your future holds. Your Mom snatches you up and hugs you tight and dances around with you all while chanting “Sydney’s awake! Sydney’s awake! Sydney’s awake! YAY!”

Then we hear you, Savannah, cooing in your crib. And Mommy and Sydney go running into your room, flip on the light, and blurt out “THE BABY’S AWAKE!” Mommy grabs you out of your crib and gallops and trots around the room, down the hall and back into the bathroom where I am shaving or something. All the while she is dancing and singing “The baby’s awake! The baby’s awake! The baby’s awake! YAY!” and Sydney, now lucid, is following behind her giggling and tugging at your feet.

When I say every day, what I mean is:

Every.

Day.

In case you have any reservations about this let me be clear. This is not normal. I don’t know anyone else that behaves this way. So let me try and explain to you why she would do this. Firstly, this really is a natural expression of what is in her heart. You can’t fake this behavior. Not for as long and consistently as she has done it. So it’s in there and it can’t wait to get out. That is the main reason.

Secondly, your Mom and I bought into this principle we heard on a TV show. Basically, it was articulated that when your child enters the room after being away from you for a while, you should let them know how happy you are to see them again! And don’t under do it, over do it! Don’t assume they know how much you love them or missed them or how happy you are to see them, take the opportunity right then and there to throw a mini-party in their honor.

Your mother is brilliant at this. I get it right sometimes, but not like her. Not by a long shot. She looks like a total dork and she just doesn’t care. Your smiles and giggles make it all worth while. I’m just the lucky guy that gets to watch in admiration.
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