Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Life with Lola

Several months ago we stopped giving Lola timeouts in her bedroom for two reasons. Either she would, A, consider it playtime and not really get a punishment per se; or, B, she would cry out that she needs to use the potty. And we never were quite sure what to do about that.

So our solution was timeouts in the bathroom! I was so proud of myself when I came up with this idea. Now? Yeah, not so much.

She rarely actually gets a timeout, maybe once every two or three weeks. And it is just for about 2-3 minutes. It’s not bad. Well, a couple of weeks ago she got a timeout. She was being stubborn, refusing to listen to me, or even acknowledging me, much less purposely not doing what she was asked. So, long story short, she got a timeout.

Me, after giving her a standard timeout warning: “Ok, timeout. Let’s go.

Lola: “No.”

Me, reaching for her hand: “Yep, you’re not listening and you’re not being a very good girl. Timeout.”

Lola: “No! I don’t wanna time out!”

She started to get more and more mad, fighting me as I basically picked her up and carried her, telling her, calmly (I hope), that she needs to sit in timeout until she decides to listen and be a good girl.

All the while, as I carry her down the hallway, she’s shouting that she doesn’t want a timeout.

So, finally, I set her down on the rug in the bathroom, crouch down, look her in the eye, tell her I love her but that she needs to take a 3-minute timeout because she wasn’t listening to me.

She glares at me. Hard.

So I shut the door, turn around to go check on Millie and take about two steps away from the bathroom when I hear it.


I spin around, look at the door blankly, not understanding at all. She did not just do that. I reach out and try to turn the knob. Locked.

Me: “Lola, did you lock this door?”

Lola, from inside: “Yep.” You could almost hear her grinning.

Me: “Lola, unlock this door.”

Lola: “No.”

Me: “Lola, unlock this door this minute.”

Lola: “No! I’m not ever ever coming out.”

Me, getting a wee bit panicked: “Lola, unlock this door now.

Lola: “I don’t wanna.”

Me, getting more panicked: “Lola, please unlock the door.”


Lola: “If I unlock the door, does that mean I’m all done with timeout? Timeout over?”

Sigh. She’s going to be oh so much fun when she’s 14.

Yes, she unlocked the door. Yes, her timeout was over. We did have a “talk” about how she needs to listen to me and how dangerous it can be to lock a door when there isn’t an adult in the room or the house with her.

Note: It wasn’t until I was relaying the story to my dad that he pointed out that, chances are, there was a way to open the door from the outside. I haven’t tried it yet. Lola also hasn’t had a timeout since.

- Bethany :)

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