We patched the wall, but I doubt we learned our lesson.
My older brother is five years older than I was. When we were both teens, we had clearly defined roles. He had a hot temper, and I knew exactly how to set it off.
Our childhood home is littered with examples of our shenanigans. I would get my brother so angry that he’d lose his temper. Then, he typically picked his little brother up and threw him. In one case, in the hallway outside our shared bedroom, this action turned into a David-sized hole in that wall.
My parents picked the punishment: We were going to fix that wall together. It would teach us teamwork. It would teach us not to antagonize one another. It would teach us to work with our hands.
At least I think that’s what they meant to teach us. Mostly, it taught me how to haphazardly patch a wall while trying to push my brother back over the edge for my own amusement.
Now, with years of parenting behind me, I see my parents’ error. If I were parenting a kid like me, the proper solution would’ve been separating my brother and me for some amount of time. Maybe the working with his hands worked for my brother, but it backfired on me. It’s entirely possible it led to a future patching job in the upstairs of our boyhood home.
When I started parenting, I was like a baseball pitcher that could only throw fastballs. Sure, they’re effective, but then someone gets your timing down and starts smacking them back at you. I knew how to take things away, whether it be time, items or freedoms.
Eventually I learned just how different my kids were, though. For our 15-year-old daughter, sending her to her room with no electronics and telling her to read a book until she cools down seems the equivalent of the death penalty. For my 9-year-old, it’s her nirvana.
Our 8-year-old can be threatened with not allowing her to go to a friend’s birthday party. Our 9-year-old might thank us for that.
And everyone does things for a different reason. It took a long time before I realized “sit here and think about what you’ve done” isn’t as effective for everyone as it was for me. Instead, on our middle daughter, we have to help walk her through what she’s done, why it’s wrong and how she can rectify it.
I’ve also learned that the intensity of the reprimand can make all the difference in the world. My voice is naturally loud anyway, and I routinely have to inform my kids that I’m not yelling but will gladly show them it if they don’t change their behaviors. Sometimes I pile it on too hard, leading my youngest past her “I’m crying to make you stop” phase all the way into her “I’m crying because I feel like the worst person in the world” phase. The goal is to stop somewhere in the middle.
All I can do is laugh when I hear people offer parenting advice. The reality is every kid is different, and every parent is different. Sure, there are some great guidelines, like making the time line up with the crime and making sure you’re never truly angry when you deliver your sentence.
My brother and I have patched things up, and not just those walls all over our parents’ house. I see him punish his children differently than I do mine, and that’s a good thing. We all bring different things to parenting, and maybe that’s the best lesson of all.
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