Timeouts

Timeouts don’t get the credit they deserve. Timeouts provide the giver and receiver a chance to rest and reset. Although often considered a reprimand by the receiver, I have first-hand knowledge that the giver can feel pretty bad about them too.

Many years ago, my son kept whining that his arm hurt after a soccer game with the neighborhood kids. I gave him the choice to go back outside to play or take a timeout. Much to my surprise, he elected the later. A little while later he summoned me to his room to show me his aching arm – which was clearly broken!
I did not win Mother of the Year in 1985.

I once sent both kiddos to their rooms for a timeout after the babysitter complained about their behavior. As they were headed down the hall I mumbled, “I should just put you up for adoption.” Sometime later, my tearful son appeared in the hallway and said, “Mom, can I ask a favor? Please don’t put us up for adoption, they never choose the older kids.” Didn’t get Mother of the Year that year either.

I don’t remember giving my daughter timeouts. As a teenager, the door slamming, piercing glares, and raging allegations of unfair punishment resulted in giving myself a timeout to escape her wrath. (Not a parenting style I recommend…but it did work…we’re both still alive). To her credit, she outgrew that phase and is now navigating corporate America with grace and finesse.

My kids are grown now and my grandchildren are perfect so they never get a timeout at Mimi’s house. Every once in a while, I still put myself in timeout to regroup and recover from the stresses of the world. I’m a firm believer in ‘just because a phone rings doesn’t mean you have to answer it’ (unless it’s one of the gbabes). The same goes for texts, emails, and doorbells. In fact, over the past few months I’ve gotten pretty good at putting myself in timeout for an hour each day. Some might call it taking a nap but what do they know?!