discipline styles: good cop? bad cop? no cop?
a friend of mine, who i originally met through blogging (and shall remain nameless), once told me “3 is worse than 2.” she and i have sons of similar age (jackson will be 3 at the end of april) and it seems as though i hear my friends voice in my head EVERY DAY as jackson approaches 3 years old.
it’s more than just an age thing though. like all things associated with parenting, we learn as we go. we figure out what works for us and our little ones with time and experience. trial and error. whether it’s breast feeding or formula, when to start solids, pacifier or no pacifier, co-sleep or crib… the questions we parents ask ourselves are endless.
so, i decided to add one to the list… what is your discipline style?
(if your style is to not have a style, please share too.)
paul and i determined our parenting styles before jackson was born, and like i said, with age and experience, things alter and circumstances change. like i said, ya learn as ya go.
we are a “timeout household.” timeouts are how we are currently disciplining jackson, and it seems to work well with him because he is a little one who MUST BE INVOLVED IN EVERY SINGLE DAMN THING. when he realizes that he has crossed a boundary, thereby receiving a timeout, he is immediately remorseful.
i imagine, as jackson gets older, that taking away privileges will offer similar results… but i could be wrong.
because i am the stay-at-home parent, the majority of the disciplining in our household comes from me. i put jackson in timeout much more often than paul does… part of that is because i spend more time with jackson… part of it is perhaps because i try not to waver in my boundaries… my husband does not do this as well. he also has eleventy times more patience than i do.
so what about you? how does disciplining your child(ren) work in your household? are you consistent? how does that affect your dynamic with your partner as you find your discipline style?
comments below are much appreciated. also…
i’d like to CHAT LIVE on this very topic this tomorrow, THURSDAY, FEB 10 at 1 PM EST. please join me at the international delight’s coffee talk community and share your insights… OR I’LL GIVE YOU A TIMEOUT!
(omg, what i would GIVE for my own timeout right now!)
chaos abounds (pass the coffee)
so maryland got two inches last night (that’s what she said!) of snow. schools have been delayed and/or cancelled because apparently the fear and paranoia that paralyzed the south is contagious.
lame maryland. lame, i say.
suffice to say, it’s 9:46 am and jackson and i have already complete two puzzles, finger-painted, made stamps, put mr. potato head (and family) together, and watched sesame street.
there’s a load of laundry cycling through the wash and another pot of coffee brewin.
are you snowed in? schools cancelled? enjoying a hot toddy? is that how you spell toddy?
**********
on a similar note, a new gig that i’m a part of is launching today. if you’re familiar with the blogfrog communities, then woohoo to you! if you’re not, clicky the doodad below and scope out a new community that is launching today. there’s chatter and prizes and all sorts of groovy stuff going on that will surely distract you from the mounds of white stuff outside.
sometimes i require advanced notification
yesterday i sat in a coffee shop and wrote. i do this every MWF of the week, while jackson plays at school just a half a mile away for a couple of hours.
it was enjoyable, quiet, peaceful. it was filled with caffeinated beverages and baked goods. cream cheese and whip cream for those who chose to indulge.
since jackson has been school age, i’ve come to enjoy our routine that leads to this precious time at the coffee shop and allows me to write and think with a clear head. sure, i can write at home and during nap time (and i do), but any parent out there will tell you how important it is to have time away… time for you.
as my first hour ended, i watched a woman come through the doors of the coffee shop with a cello. a HUGE and beautiful instrument that i assumed was to be shared in the quiet corner of the coffee shop while patrons smiled as the music of a strings flowed into our ears.
i nodded my head at her, a simple greeting, as i squelched back the desire to walk up to her and exclaim, “CELLO!”
shortly after, another woman walked in with a bongo.
and then a man followed her with flyers and a tip jar.
slowly a band was forming.
i continued to assume that it would be quiet, coffee shopish tunes that i would hear once they set up and began to play.
i was so damn wrong.
as the group adjusted their instruments, tested them out, enjoyed free coffee from the baristas, moms and dads and itty bitty little ones began to collect in the coffee house, in front of the fire place.
the musicians were there to have a baby music hour in the middle of the coffee shop.
at first i didn’t think much of it because not a lot of people were there to enjoy it. but as any parent knows, kids will cause you to run late for activities. and so as the songs continued, more people collected.
more crying babies. more songs. and then… more instruments. tambourines were passed around. shakers for the little ones to use were shared.
i offered the chair i sat on to a mom who frantically looked for a place to rest and moved to a table in the back, next to the bathroom.
by the time the everyone had congregated and the musicians were on verse 2 of “the wheels on the bus,” i started to get angry. i felt like i deserved a heads up that this was going to happen in my haven. my few hours of solace every MWF had been tainted by NOISE.
and oh the noise… the music was one thing, but the crying babies who demanded to be fed, the shouts across the shop for one friend to grab another friend a small milk because they had forgotten theirs, the damn tambourine…
mind you, when we moved here 2 years ago, i yearned to find little outings for jackson and i like the one i witnessed yesterday. i bundled up a wee magoo and went to the public library for story hour (complete with bubbles) and relished in the knowledge that every so often, i could count on taking my kidlet somewhere OUT OF THE HOUSE and be around others who looked to do the same.
but yesterday morning, i was pissed. i didn’t have enough time to venture to another coffee shop before having to pick jackson up from school. i couldn’t escape the noise even with ear buds in my ears and itunes blasting and the toilet flushing (since i was next to the bathroom).
once you become a parent, you’re ALWAYS a parent. you watch others with their kids. you find yourself smiling at sweet faces of newborns. you stand in line at target and sway back and forth even though you ventured to target sans baby. you watch a mom or dad who has multiples and wonder how they do it when you only have one kid and can barely keep your head above water (ok maybe not you, but i do).
you can’t undo being a parent in the same way that you can’t unsee something. it’s there. embedded in your brain.
and so watching these parents and little ones congregate yesterday in the coffee shop was beyond disruptive. my brief escape from parenthood was replaced with babies and rattles and “twinkle twinkle little star” and odors of shit-filled diapers wafting through the air.
i packed up my things and climbed over blankies and diaper bags and teeny bodies that sat on the floor.
then i asked the owner of the shop, kate, in a whispered tone, “is this going to become ‘a thing?’” she looked frazzled as she prepped vanilla nonfat lattes and chai teas.
“no,” she mouthed back to me.
and i was relieved… dammit, i need my break time.
because now, as i sit at home and write this post and recall what yesterday morning was like, jackson is sitting behind me, on the couch cushions, and wrapping his arms around my neck… but not in a loving, “i just want to be close to you” sort of way.
he’s suffocating me.
you asked for it
every monday, wednesday, and friday, i drop jackson off at school and head to a coffee shop right around the corner to get some work done. the coffee is horrible but the baked goods keep me coming back. and each MWF of the week, jackson and i have the same conversation when we drive to school…
“mom’s goina put you to school.”
“yes baby, mom is going to put you to school today and pick you up when you’re all done.”
“mom’s goina put jackson to school and get coffees.”
“yes baby, mom is going to get coffee after i take you to school.”
the same 4 lines, 3 times a week, offering just a bit of comfort.
jackson likes routines. i like routines.
once i drop him off and head to the coffee shop where i now sit, it’s game on.
the circus comes to town, and each morning that i sit here, something or someone provokes me to screw with their head.
and it’s so fun.
like today, there is a demolition crew working in the parking lot of the coffee shop. they’re tearing shit up and spitting said shit into a dump truck at the loudest of volumes.
jackson would be mesmerized as he has an affinity for construction sites right now.
i am not so mesmerized. the crew consists of 6-8 fat dudes who could really benefit from a shower.
the thing i am enthralled with though is the fact that never once did these non-showered men ask anyone in the coffee shop to move their car before tearing shit up.
upon arriving with their trucks-a-plenty, they tromped in with their steal-toed boots for coffee and bagels, but never thought to ask if anyone would be willing to move their vehicle and save it from an abundance of shit they are now hacking up out of the parking lot.
so, what did i do (besides write a post about them?)…
i set off the alarm on my husband’s tahoe that i drove this morning.
because sometimes people are idiots and i wanted a laugh.
and now some other coffee shop patron is fumbling with his laptop, asking where he can plugin.
it’s taking everything in me to resist from saying something obnoxious.
using the sharpie marker
i sit in a coffee shop. my favorite one in downtown annapolis because it actually does NOT have tourists. it’s a gem to me, this quiet hole-in-the-wall place with a couch in the front window. the couch is covered with a sheet and stained with caffeinated beverages and remnants of scones.
i choose an over-sized chair to sit in near an electrical outlet so i can plug in. my beverage order is taken. i even get a muffin that i’ll probably only eat half of because it’s so enormous. the muffin is placed on a chipped plate, coffee is handed to me and both of these delectable items join my iphone on top of a small mosaic table.
i sit in a coffee stop. i’m wearing my favorite jeans, though it’s over 100 degrees outside today. my jeans that i hardly ever wash because they fit with such comfort that it is as though they are a precious friend, enveloping me in the perfect hug. my hair is unwashed, curls are damp from humidity. my teeth are brushed.
wait.
runs tongue across teeth… tastes colgate.
yup, they are brushed.
but i forgot deodorant.
because i practically ran out the door this morning. this sunday morning. a morning where some families rush out the door to get to church on time… brunch on time… relatives’ houses on time.
i ran out the door to this coffee shop, this sanctuary, to escape.
and i now sit here feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt envelop me.
i have taken time for myself.
**********
my first “real” boss taught me the invaluable lesson of setting boundaries. i say “real” boss because i consider the time i spent working at a women’s crisis center, straight out of grad school, to be my first “real” job… a steady job. the income was crap, but it was a non-profit agency and i have a tendency to forget that one needs money in order to exist.
my emotions and passion had driven me to accept this job in the first place. my “save the world” mentality had entirely taken over and this was the job that was going to prepare me to save the world… from what, i still do not know, but dammit, i was goina save it from something.
anyone who works in a social work environment knows that it is taxing in ways that corporate america is not. i don’t say this to say one is better than the other. they are just simply different and come with different expectations and needs.
clients needs are different. emotions run high. often you operate in “crisis mode” when responding to a client’s needs because usually those needs are immediate. they come to you NOW because they need you NOW.
the day i turned my 2 weeks notice in to my boss, we both cried.
it was hard.
it’s hard to realize that you can’t save the world, no matter how damn hard you try.
she had taught me about boundaries.
she gave me my sharpie marker.
so, i popped the cap off and drew a straight line.
**********
i sit in a coffee shop. i wonder if life is filled with sharpie markers, some with their caps still tightly on, others with ink nearly gone.
i drew a line this morning.
i needed solace.
i knew exactly where i would go.
i drove here, envisioning these words in my mind, beginning this post in my head while sitting at traffic lights.
and yet, i sit here, now writing these words and feel guilty for taking a moment to put myself first.
i check my iphone for a text from my husband, my parents… from anyone who may possibly need me.
no messages.
because i’ve taken out my sharpie marker and drawn a line. no need to put up a sign that says “do not cross.”
the line speaks for itself.
it’s ok for me to say “no” sometimes.










