Time Outs

Second post today!  A short one.  I've been given a little break because, for the second time this week, Elsie has requested a time-out.  We were at our neighbors' house, playing with their toys.  The two-minute warning had run out and it was time to go home.  Elsie was snitty about it and started to throw a tantrum, then she looked at me and said, "Mommy, I want a time-out." 

The time-out is my favorite parenting tool.  I want to share the way I do it, because I'm really proud of it and because it might fit for some readers, too.  Not every kid is Elsie, so your mileage may vary.

I use time-outs liberally.  Not every day, but every major meltdown. 

I do not frame a time-out as a punishment.  I use a calm, quiet tone of voice when I suggest the time-out.  I don't yell.  I don't threaten.  I don't justify.  For instance, I'd never say "You have to have a time out because you're not sharing."  In fact, I don't often say anything beyond, "Okay, time-out."  The reason is not poor sharing.  It's not throwing food.  It's not even hitting.  The reason is always the same, it's because Elsie needs to calm down about something so that she can try again in a better frame of mind.  It's not punitive.  It's a coping technique, a removal of the child from overstimulating circumstances or from a situation that doesn't match the emotions of the moment.  If we're home, time-outs work best behind a closed door, like a bedroom.  If we're out, we can do them on a park bench or sitting on a curb.  The point is to sit quietly until things seem a little brighter and more manageable.  You can remove yourself from the child or stay and just remove your attention, which is harder but safe when out and about.

When we started time-outs, Elsie used to cry, and I'd know the time-out was over because she stopped crying and had been quiet for a couple of minutes.  Sometimes I had to give her a few in a row, because she'd get worked up again really fast even after the time-out.  Now, we're both better at the routine.  I'm better at nipping it in the bud, and she's better at calming down right away.  I think she sees it as a sanctuary -- an escape.

I give myself time-outs a few times a week, too, almost always at the end of a long day.  Elsie gets cranky from hunger and exhaustion, and so do I.  When I'm losing my temper and I'm frazzled and I feel that I'm about to explode, I announce, "I am so frustrated.  I need a time-out."  I walk up to my room and I close the door.  If we're home alone, I obviously make sure Elsie is somewhere safe to play by herself first.  When she was too young, I'd stay in the room and just take my time-out on the couch, but disengage from conversation and whatever other demands can wait 10 minutes.  When Hub is home, he is very receptive to this.  He knows it means, "You're on duty.  I'm out.  See you in a few minutes."  He also knows it means I'm skipping lashing out.  As hub often plays scapegoat for my frustration and anger, my time-outs are great for him, too.

Tonight, I asked Elsie to sit potty before her time-out, which she reluctantly, fretfully did.  Now Elsie is up on her big-girl bed, sitting quietly.  Her door is open.  She can play with her toys if she wants.  She could even come downstairs and decide she's done on her own.  After all, she decided she needed the time-out to begin with.

I love this girl!