No more time-out

It's not a secret that we used to use time-out. Almost religiously.

We've used a lot parenting methods that I'm not exactly proud of. Part of the whole, "when you know better, you do better" I suppose.

Today I had a very good reminder of why we stopped.

From about the ages of 15 months to almost 2.5 years old, we used time-out with H.

It worked.

Beautifully.

I'll even admit that sometimes when she's a raving lunatic expressing her frustrated feelings, I think to myself, "If I just put her in time-out this will all stop. Immediately."

But then I remember the day I vowed I'd never put that girl in time-out again.

There's a picture that's made it's way around the Internet that says something like, "What you do to your kids, they will do to others" and shows a picture of a toddler spanking her baby doll. Every time I see it, it breaks my heart. And is a good reminder, because it is so, so true.

Well, time-out is the same.

When H was just shy of 2.5 years old, I was in a neighboring room, listening to her play with her babies. When suddenly she said, "Oh, baby. You're having a fit. Time-out for you! Mommy won't love you until you're nice again."

I'm fairly certain my whole heart stopped. Momentarily, Earth might have even stopped rotating. For real.

I had never in all of my life told her I wouldn't love her unless she was nice. Never even that I didn't like her or her behavior. I had never even put her in time-out while acting pissed off. I'd always been very calm and mechanical about it. I'd showered her with love and affection afterwards and we'd talk about the problem and move on. She was so mature beyond her years, that even at 15 months she actually truly seemed to understand, as she very, very rarely repeated the offense that had earned her a time-out in the first place.

That day was the first time that I realized that even if I loved my children unconditionally, it wasn't enough. I had to show them I loved them unconditionally. It meant that I had to make them see I still loved them during their ugliest moments, not matter how hard it was for me.

Because although I hugged and kissed and adored that girl when her time-out was over, when she was seated in time-out, despite my best efforts, she sat there thinking I didn't love her because her behavior wasn't nice. And I could not and can not control how she feels and reacts to how I react.

So as her momma, it's my job not to give her a reason to think I don't love her.

That doesn't mean I give her a cookie every time she asks. I'm not saying that. Or that I just stand by and let her make a mess while she tantrums.

But I help her through it. With so much patience that I know God is real because I would never be able to muster it on my own.

And you know what, it works just as well as time-out does.

In fact, once you get through that initial period when your kiddo is testing you to see how far they can push before you snap and stick them in time-out again, it is way more effective than time-out. And we're all happier and much better off for it. We're definitely more connected. And I adore that.

Today, I had a reminder of why we first ditched time-out as I overheard H and B playing with their Bitty Twins.

B said, "Diego is mad. Hit. No, hit, Diego."

And H said, "You must be really mad if you're hitting, Diego. Hit this pillow instead, and I'll sit right here until you're calm. And I will give you a big hug when you're ready because I just love you so much."

They were just playing with their baby dolls. Simple, pretend play.

But at 3.5, H knows it's okay to be mad. And that her momma will be right there with her, loving her through her big emotions.

And that's way more important that a child who doesn't have tantrums.

I don't miss time-out one bit. Not one single bit.