Bobby (along with his sidekick, Sid) moved out this morning. It was all very dramatic, he felt I was being too bossy and decided he needed to spend one night camping outside to get away from me. Sid concurred (but needed a little help getting his shoes, socks and coat on, and requested I run away with them in case they got scared). Bobby got the suitcase out and started packing, he had a few questions along the way, such as ‘Do you think these green shoes fit me?’ and ‘What do you think I should sleep in?’ but ultimately decided the large cardboard box outside would suffice.

I gave them a couple of blankets and out they went.

I breathed in the full 43 seconds of silence they gave me, before they both blew back in, shouting about how cold their fingers were and that they missed me too much to stay away (not even chance to boil the kettle!). We all had a big cuddle, said our ‘I love you’s and decided to reset the day.

It was a comforting end to what was a bit of a stinker of a morning. There were tears by too many kids before the clock had struck 7am and after a few great nights of sleep, the baby decided last night was her opportunity to practice squealing a Cappella. My cup of sanity had truly gone cold before I met the demands of the shouty tribe.

*It didn’t help that the husband was far too jovial as he swung out the door (I’m sure I saw him do a highland kick as he got in the car and I definitely saw him smiling as he turned on his podcast and reversed out of the driveway).*

So what I thought was going to be a lovely, slow morning actually ended in a tangle of frustration.

The boys, who had woken too early, needed a little extra love, while the mother, who had been giving out love to the baby all night, had precious little left to give. A conundrum that got more and more challenging as the morning wore on, until the great family crescendo eventually reached its peak. I asked both boys to take themselves to their room, which they did, while I took a moment to breathe.

That’s when Bobby packed the suitcase.

After reading parenting expert Justin Coulston’s article this week, on why ‘time outs’ are harmful to children, I should probably feel guilty about asking the kids to go to their room. Time outs apparently tell kids that their parent’s love is conditional, and conditional love leads to anxiety. And if that doesn’t hit a parent right in the jugular, nothing will.

But I don’t feel guilty, my kids know how loved they are.

And while I support Coulston’s general notion that misbehaving kids need connection, rather than further disconnection, I think we need to be mindful of removing every tool in the parenting kit. I spend the vast majority of my day connecting with my kids and when they are having a tough time or mid-meltdown you can bet I will be there by their side supporting them.

But. Parents are not robots. You cannot input data and expect a measured response every time, we are human beings. And it is, in my opinion, our humanism that makes us great parents. We love, we worry, we respond, we encourage, we suggest, we reflect. And you know, sometimes, we don’t get it right. We lose our cool and we run out of patience. But you know what? So do our kids (a lot). And I’d rather teach them that sometimes a person needs a little space to gather themselves, rather than ranting or hitting or uttering some scathing remark. Because parenting will test you out in ways you never thought possible. You are going to stuff it up sometimes, but you’re probably not going to stuff them up by taking a moment for yourself. You might even be teaching them something important.

Just my thoughts anyway.

Eliza xx