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April 17, 2006

Simple Discipline

Someone called to ask me if (or how) I disciplined my children in the face of DMD. Did I use different forms of discipline for my boys and girls? Did I set the bar equally high for the boys and girls?

It’s difficult because we live our lives compensating in all sorts of ways. Add the diagnosis of DMD, steroids, fear, worry, pain and we further increase our willingness to compensate. We question our judgment, worry about decisions, how far and when to draw the line. In all honesty, discipline was not my first thought. With four children, each two years apart, my goals were very simple – children loved/fed/cleaned and with some luck, I had time for a shower. The only real house rule was: Do not drink the last Diet Coke.

Chris and Patrick were often bickering. Chris was very quiet, introspecive although a serious competitor. Patrick was one of those free spirits. He could easily identify whatever it was that would make you crazy. He would arrive on the scene, push everyone’s buttons, smile and take off, knowing that he had successfully stirred the pot. We lovingly referred to him as a “shit picker” (forgive the language). For instance, Patrick would be the one to use a marker pen on the girls Barbie’s, giving them a lovely moustache/beard appearance. Jenny and Michelle would be devastated, insisting Patrick be punished. Or, at a crucial point in a video game with Chris, Patrick would do his best to insure something happened to muddle the results. Chris played hard and Patrick’s sabotage could cause a major meltdown.

Jenny and Michelle shared a bedroom. It was always a disaster and there were occasions I thought a bit of organization might be useful. Each blamed the other for the chaos. After a few years, Jenny and Michelle asked for a divorce, assuring me that having their own room would insure some degree of organization. It didn’t.

On days when I found myself at wits end (and there were many), I tried my best to discipline creatively. My very best punishment was quite simple actually. When the girls/boys were driving me over the edge, pushing each other’s buttons and my own, I would sit the ‘guilty parties’ on the floor and make them hold hands. They had to sit face to face, both hands locked together for 15 minutes. For them, it seemed like a lifetime. Of course, it drove them crazy. As I set the timer for 15 min. I would hear shrieks of ‘I don’t want to touch him/her”, “his/her hands are dirty/sweaty”. By the two minute mark, I was laughing, watching them squiggle and after ten minutes they were laughing as well. To this day, we discuss those glorious moments and now wonderful memories.

Posted by ppmd at 05:01 PM | Comments (1)