Ten Minutes
They're right you know. She does have me wrapped around her tiny finger. She's the girl of my life and there is nothing I would ever do to hurt or upset her. And that is why I have to do this even more. I put an egg timer on the table and direct her to a stool. She purposefully drags herself slovenly to the step stool and when she's finally heaved herself upon it, she turns away from me, arms crossed, still sniffling. Her mass of curls cover her face and I can see the faintest of pink across her nose.
"All right," I crank the dial of the timer to the miniscule ten mark. "Time out for ten minutes and then we'll talk about what you've done." No response. "Evy?" I look for some form of affirmation. She pointedly ignores me. I put my hand on her shoulder and she shrugs it off, with a small hmph.
"All right ignore me, but anymore attitude and I'll add another minute to the timer," she gives a small sob. I battle against my internal instinct to soothe her and instead force myself to go into the kitchen. Steve, she needs discipline. She needs to learn consequences that are much more tame and lenient than what she will face in real life. My reasoning could be very persuasive... so why was I so conflicted?
She snuck a package of poptarts from Thor's secret stash, and then made up a story. What really bothered me though was not her taking without asking, as she did admit to taking the treats and agreed to write an apology for Thor-it was the way she almost fell off the kitchen counter trying to get them. She is not allowed to be climbing on the counters-I have told her many times that she can't do that. Multiple accounts of reckless endangerments and breaking my trust, is time-out worthy. As I heard the rhythmic clicking of the timer, I too faced ten long minutes of trying to be the 'good' dad.
Nine minutes to go and she's still sniffling, I hear soft, whining noises. Nope, Steve, don't go there. She's fine. I put on a pot of water, busying myself with dinner. The noises continue, but I try to at least partly tune it out. I have to stay at the stove or the water will boil over.
Eight minutes remaining and I hear thumping, soft little thuds against the wall. I peak around the corner and see that she her foot striking the wall. I should add a minute for that, but I don't know if I could handle it.
"Evy," I warned her. The thuds stopped and I saw her little form tense up, once again crossing her arms tightly.
Seven minutes into her time out and I hear her sniffling again. This time though, I overhear mumbling. I can't make out all of the words, but I do believe she is talking to herself.
"I...no bad...I try...make better...but daddy..." each phrase was muffled by a short sob.
Six minutes have gone by and her mumbling has gotten clearer and more inquisitive.
"I not try bad. I say it. I sorry to Tor, and-and-and I no know why." I peaked around the corner again and although her back was turned to me, I could see her tiny gestures of frustration punctuate each word. Time-out is suppose to be 'quiet-time,' but if this is her way of understanding what she did wrong, then I'll wait a bit.
Half-time and Evy is still muttering to herself. I am trying not to smile at some of the comments. I must be horrible to be laughing, but she's so darn adorable with her gestures.
"Ten minutes...forever!" I stifle my chuckles, training my eyes on the pasta.
Four minutes and I think I'm going to make it. I can do this. That's when I heard the crying again. She's hunkered down, her head in her lap and although she is still talking it somewhat strained.
"Sorry. Daddy mean...no daddy no mean...daddy...sad...daddy sad..." I inhaled harshly and turned off the heat, adding the newly boiled noodles to a pot of bubbling sauce. That clicking...it's almost in time with the heaving of her shoulders.
Three minutes. Only three minutes to go. Evy is quieter now and I see her forehead leaning against the wall. I think she is over her fit, but I still have three minutes to stay firm. I grabbed the plates to set on the table.
Two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds. Evy has turned around now, but her head is still down. Her face is splotchy and her curls tangled. She looks so miserable that I almost waiver. She sits on the stool waiting. I turn, my heart lurching.
One minute. Silverware set. Fifty seconds. Bowls set. Forty-five seconds. Left-over salad in bowl-Evy's crying again. Thirty seconds. Pasta added to table, the dial is nearly at its end mark. Fifteen seconds. I pull out milk, leaving the chocolate milk for another day. Ten seconds. I put the towel down. Nine seconds. I walk around the corner. Eight seconds. I pull out a chair. Seven seconds. I take a seat. Six seconds. I pick up the timer. Five seconds. I scoot forward. Four seconds. Evy's head rises and her eyes are rimmed red. Three seconds. I keep my face expressionless. Two seconds. I make eye contact. One second. It's going to be all right, Evy, it's going to be all right. The timer sounded loud, clear and sharp. I set the timer down on the table.
"Evy?" I address her. "What did you do wrong?" She waited for a moment and then timidly spoke.
"I lie. I took Tor's Tart and no tell daddy," she told me. "And..." "I on top of counter...I scare daddy."
"You did scare daddy and when you lie to daddy, it hurts. I want to trust you Evy, but you have to earn that trust."
"I sorry daddy," she said tears streaming down face. "Daddy, I sorry. Pwease," she reaches out for me and I want to meet those arms, but instead I get up and walk to her and kneel to her level.
"Evy, do you promise not to take without asking and to listen to daddy."
"Y-y-yes." I reached down and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck.
"Calm down," I told her. "Let's get you washed up."
"Daddy still love me?" She asked pulling away.
"I still and always will love you," I assured her. "Sometimes that means I have to do time-outs. I just want you to keep you safe." I wet a kitchen towel and begin wipe her face. "Do you want some spaghetti?"
"Sagetti. I eat sagetti and ice cream?"
"No baby. You can have your 'sagetti' and maybe some apple sauce, but no dessert tonight." She sighed.
"I no like times out. I no like them at all," she mumbled.
