Etikett: child development

Introduction

My husband’s vacation is just around the corner, and I’m longing for it like I never have before. But before we get there, life offered a small lesson – about responsibility, boundaries, and a disassembled pen. The heat after our trip was heavy, but that wasn’t what made me sigh the most that evening.

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Soon vacation – and I’m longing

Soon, soon, my husband will be on vacation again. I’m longing in a way I can’t recall feeling before. Not because we have big plans, but because the days will be unplanned again. I won’t have to carry the full load alone – we’ll be two sharing the doing. Even if all we do is just be, it’s more fun to just be together. A strange sentence, perhaps, but it’ll do.

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Tiredness, heat and a detour through Torslanda

When we got back from Gothenburg yesterday, we were exhausted. The heat that hit us as we stepped out of the car was stifling. The little one headed straight to his room, and I sat for a while on the patio. Then I made my way down to the basement where it was cooler. I lay down on the couch and fell asleep. I had exerted myself more than I realized.

We made it home, though – even if we took a little detour through Torslanda. I missed the turnoff for the Lundby tunnel. One of those small mishaps that just happen. A consequence of missing the exit, which led to a few extra miles.

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The white paint on the windowsill

Last night, my husband noticed some white paint on one of the windowsills, and it had dripped down the outside wall. I called in the one I suspected – since it was their room – and asked what he had poured out.

”Nothing,” he said.

I explained that it had to have been him – because the white paint had clearly come from his window, and no one else pours things out from there.
I also told him that it didn’t really matter how it got there.
What mattered was that it had to be cleaned – and he would be the one to clean it.

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When the truth came out

Later, when I went into his room – and then over to my art pens in the living room – I saw where the paint had come from. One of my drawing pens was in his trash can, taken apart. And one was missing from my collection.

Another conversation followed – about how my art pens are just that: mine. That they’re expensive, and they’re for drawing – not for pulling apart.

I told him this would be costly. That particular pen he had taken apart costs close to 300 SEK. And if all you have is a weekly allowance… well, then it stings.

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A conversation about boundaries and responsibility

We had another talk. I asked him if I had ever gone into his room and broken something that was his. Of course, he said no – because that has never happened.

I told him I expected an apology. And that I was disappointed. I probably shouldn’t have said that last part – but it slipped out. Still, I won’t just let this pass without consequence.

Maybe he won’t have to cover the full cost of the pen, but he’ll feel it. He’ll have less money than usual. He’ll also go to the store and buy the exact same pen – with his own money. Maybe I’ll chip in half.

He also had to scrub the windowsill to remove the paint, and he’ll repaint the outside wall where the color still lingers.

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Consequences – not punishment

At work, we often talk about consequences. But many times, those ”consequences” resemble punishments – and that’s where I object. I don’t want to punish. I want to teach. A consequence should be connected to the action.

Like when a child spills a glass of milk – then they wipe it up. That’s not punishment, it’s a natural outcome.

What happened yesterday was exactly that: a consequence.

He took one of my pens, broke it apart – maybe out of curiosity – and tried to hide it by pouring the ink out the window. But he didn’t know how much those pens mean to me. And he didn’t know the ink would stick.

And the ink did stick. Everywhere.

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It became his to handle

The ink didn’t disappear the way he thought it would. It disappeared because he cleaned it up. With rags. With patience. And maybe with a lump in his stomach.

At the same time, I wonder if the real consequence wasn’t the cleaning.
Maybe it was the feeling – when the pen broke, when the ink spread and couldn’t be undone.
That’s where the learning began.
Maybe the unease, that little sting of worry, is what made it stick.

And had I added more – anger, raised voice, punishment – maybe all that would’ve remained was shame.

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I chose to stay

Chose not to punish. I chose to show what had been broken – the pen, and my trust.
But I also let him be part of the repair.
Take responsibility.
Try to clean up.
And the learning was found there – in the doing.
Not in a corner of shame.
Not in harsh words.

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What do you think?

How do you feel about consequences versus punishment?
Have you ever been punished when you really needed understanding instead?

Share your thoughts in the comments – I read everything and always respond from the heart.

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Reflection

Everything we do leaves traces – sometimes as ink on a wall, sometimes as insight in the soul. The important thing is what we do with it.

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Yesterday is behind us, tomorrow isn’t here yet – what we do now is what shapes it all. Live today, fully present. – Carina Ikonen Nilsson

#ParentingWithLove #NaturalConsequences #EmpathyInParenting #RaisingChildren #PositiveDiscipline

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