Consequences

The thing I dislike the most about being a parent is having to discipline.  I hate being the bad guy.  I wish someone would invent a fool-proof way to get my kids to listen to what I’ve asked them to do (or not do) and have them follow through.

Today Shecklet #1 was having a overly-whiny afternoon, so I told him he would be taking a nap.  No tantrum was thrown when I said it was time to head upstairs (which was positive) but the little guy refused to stay in bed.  This tends to happen when he naps, so I’ve been having him sleep in our bed instead of his so at least Shecklet #2 has a chance to get a good nap in.  I swear I went back upstairs to check on him a half dozen times.  A few times he was just sitting up on our bed, so I had him lay back down.  But at one point I walked in to find the lamps on and clean socks, that were previously in the laundry basket, strewn all over the room.  Apparently I missed the memo that nap time meant throw the laundry everywhere.  At this point, I had to follow through with the consequence for not napping that we had talked about – no afternoon trip to the park.  I don’t know who was more disappointed, him or me.  It hurt to have to say we weren’t going, especially when he turned on the waterworks, but I knew I had to remain firm.  I’m hoping that one of these days, something will click in that little 3-year-old head of his and he’ll understand that his actions have consequences.  Until then, we get to keep working on the meaning of cause and effect.