I’m in My Thirties, Why Am I on Restriction?

Kids + Time Out = No Fun

Do you remember when we were kids?  Time-outs were handed out like candy and every time we something naughty, our parents handed us the line 

“This is going to hurt me a lot more than it’s going to hurt you?”  

I don’t know about you, but I remember thinking, “Ya right, I’m sure that wooden hanger is really rubbing your hands raw.”  

I’m just kidding; my mom’s hanger was plastic.

I never bought that line.  I didn’t buy it when my parents said it, and didn’t believe it when my grandma said it either.  Now I know precisely what they mean; giving your kid’s time out can be way worse for us.  

Mia, like her father, can sometimes be a bit…. mouthy.  That bridge between what she thinks and says, she must come to learn, is not one which must always be crossed.  Last Friday, since she couldn’t keep herself from running across it any time she pleased (and all day long), we had to burn it down and leave her stranded on the other side.

We had some really fun adventures planned for our weekend and the kids.  Time out is non-negotiable and so we had to take them all away.  

Our daughter was on restriction and so were we.  

Kids + Time Out = No Fun

Sure, the left side of my brain was thrilled; it was the right thing to do; her behavior provoked a natural consequence; she deserved to be sitting in her room alone; it serves her right; that child needs to be on restriction.

Then there’s the right side of my brain:

That’s the side that feels the ache in the sudden hollow of my heart as I look into her eyes (two chocolate drops swimming in snow, exactly like her mother’s) and clearly see that I am causing her anguish.  

I know, I know – totally ridiculous.  Kids… time out; hand in hand.

The upside was, we didn’t shortchange Max a bit.  Daisy’s consequence cheated only her parents.  We took turns staying home with Mia, while Max went skipping about on his weekend adventures.

“Why is Mia not on adventures?” he asked, then answered his own question: “Because she’s on restriction for not being a good listener, right?”

Glad he got it.

By the end of the weekend, I’d felt like I hadn’t had one (it was the opposite of going to the Catalina Island).  

It’s Thursday now, and Mia’s been nothing but “Yes, Mother,” and “Yes, Father,” for five days straight.  I’m sure she didn’t like spending the weekend in her room.  I know I hated spending the weekend on restriction without her.  We both know the equation.

Kids + Time Out = No Fun

Writer Dad

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