"That's so Sad"

Tonight I did the dishes while listening to a few pod casts.  My mind stuck every word I heard--so much so that I almost ignored how gross it was to wash out the moldy Tupperware containers that had been hiding in my fridge for who knows how long.  What topic was so captivating, you ask?  Empathy and parenting--a combination that seems so "no duh" natural, yet I frequently find myself frustrated as I try to bridge the gap between "I love you" and "Go to time out (again)!"

Love is hard.  It makes you care about every little detail of another person's life.  And when those people are little, and they have no idea what it means to grow up and why it's a good idea to learn to share and to communicate and to refrain from pooping in public places--it's even more difficult because it's my job to teach them.  But they won't really learn anything unless they know and trust how much I love them.

I want to discipline with more love, so, per the suggestion of my "love and logic" podcast, I'm adopting an "empathy phrase."  It's a set of words strung together and strewn about the house to remind me to stop reminding and start empathizing.  Giving reminders is exhausting, and it's just an invitation for Atrain to squash Jdog again.  If I give him a little empathy as I'm ushering him to time out, it should--as the theory says--decrease the stress of discipline as I give him ownership of the consequence, rather than just making him go to time out.  Not to mention, I'm letting him know that I feel sad for his bad consequence. 

Let me practice:  "Oh man!  That's so sad you don't get to play with your toy any more," I'll say as I take it from his hands and put it on top of the entertainment center.  And then he'll burst into irrational tears.  "That's so sad to have consequences for hitting your brother with your grab-nabber.  It's tough to have consequences for bad choices. That's so sad."

What about this one: "Shoot.  That's so sad when you don't get a treat because you yelled at your mom." I will say as we exit the grocery store empty handed.  "That's just so sad."

No apologies.  It's not my fault he must endure bad consequences--it's just what happens when bad choices are made.  And, I can't be sorry about it any more.  It's too stressful to blame myself all day long. It's his consequence, not mine.  And I want to lovingly help him own it.  So, I'll say, "That's so sad," instead of, "I'm sorry," as I close the door to his bedroom the first time he sneaks out of bed.  Because, it is sad, and I do feel his pain.  But I will not be the bad guy.  I'll just be the one who takes a deep breath, delivers the consequence, and then says, "What a bummer.  That's just so sad."