"Time Out" is just slang for "Shut the *&@# up!"

My daughter used to have a little orange rug in her room that I picked up before she was born after watching too many episodes of Super Nanny; and just like my assertive UK trainer had suggested, we called it her naughty spot. It was the one place that I could send her whenever she crossed the line from annoying hysteria to borderline schizophrenia, and the only way she would ever be released is by calming her ass down!Picture
There are some parents that believe in capital punishment, or at least a few of good lashes with a worn-out leather belt; and whenever our sweet little bird defies the laws of parenthood, my husband claims to be one of those people. For the most part, I am the disciplinary: I'm the one who puts her in her room and lets her scream loud enough for the neighbors to think we're beating her, and I'm the one who sits her down afterward to discuss any possibility of early parole. She knows which lines she can cross and which lines will transform themselves into imaginary prison bars that she can later pretend to scrape her plastic tea cup across. But despite her keen awareness to House Rules and mommy's last nerve, she continues to forge her way into deeper, unchartered waters.

Like most parents of future actors, it always makes me laugh when the teacher's tell me what a sweet and obedient child our daughter is. "She's a model student... I just wish she would be morevocal in class!" Don't get me wrong; she is probably one of the sweetest children I've ever known, but she's also one of the loudestWhen she was in kindergarten, I videotaped her singing at the top of her lungs and sent it to her teacher so she could see what her shy and demure girl was likeoutside of the classroom. But my efforts to gain sympathy were quickly dismissed as she politely informed me that "she certainly knows her boundaries;" a theory that would prove itself true several months later when she elected to put herself in time out after telling the warden to "pick it up yourself!"

Although that orange little spot in the center of her room saw more traffic than downtown Atlanta on any given day, there's been no solid proof that it actually worked. But the one thing it did do was give us both an opportunity to calm down and hug it out... And that's exactly what we did.

And we still do today–minus the rug.


In order to comment on BlogHer.com, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.