Timeout Quotes

The world will give you that once in awhile, a brief timeout; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.

I was your man, you were halfway around the world from me, honey, I’d fucking phone you … If you told me you needed a timeout, first, I wouldn’t fuckin’ let you have one. Second, I wouldn’t give you reason to fuckin’ want one. And last, you took off anyway, I’d fuckin’ phone.

Sometimes there is no next time, no time-outs, no second chances. Sometimes it’s now or never.

Hector, if you get yourself killed again, when I take over Hades I’ll give you a really long time-out in Tartarus,

I don't know why people are so keen to put the details of their private life in public; they forget that invisibility is a superpower.

Time-out,” I said. He twisted his hand around and wound his fingers into mine. “You‘re putting me in time-out?” “Yes,” I said as a shaky sigh slid through my lips. “If I don‘t go, do I get a spanking?

While you'll feel compelled to charge forward it's often a gentle step back that will reveal to you where you and what you truly seek.

I need a timeout do to deal with my timeout! that's how messed up I'm.

Rowing is perhaps the toughest of sports. Once the race starts, there are no time-outs, no substitutions. It calls upon the limits of human endurance. The coach must therefore impart the secrets of the special kind of endurance that comes from mind, heart, and body. —George Yeoman Pocock

Spending time alone in your own company reinforces your self-worth and is often the number-one way to replenish your resilience reserves.

It is time to stop a young woman from being manipulated to break her ass and tear herself down to the core in order to build a man up. Once she builds him up, more than half the time he leaves her to figure out the million-piece puzzle of life. Wow! It never amazes me how men forget who was there for them when they didn’t have a damn thing to their name. It’s a timeout for that!

You have been a bad alien cylinder," I say to it. "You need a time-out.

The first week at August's was a consolation, a pure relief. The world will give you that once in a while, a brief time-out; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.

Accepting necessary conflicts for the sake of improving the lives of children is the only fundamental moral crusade that matters.

Misconduct. I wish they'd call it for what it is. Misconduct sounds like something you do to earn yourself a time-out as a toddler.

Can we have a time-out on the self-criticism for the rest of the evening?" "Not the rest of the evening. I can do about half an hour and then force of habit takes over.

Fuck You!' [Oskar said] 'Exuse me!' [His mom said] 'Sorry. I mean, screw you.' 'You need a time-out!' 'I need a mausoleum!

Just having my own time-out; a bit of self-pity here, a bit of self-loathing there.

Picture yourself when you were five. in fact, dig out a photo of little you at that time and tape it to your mirror. How would you treat her, love her, feed her? How would you nurture her if you were the mother of little you? I bet you would protect her fiercely while giving her space to spread her itty-bitty wings. she’d get naps, healthy food, imagination time, and adventures into the wild. If playground bullies hurt her feelings, you’d hug her tears away and give her perspective. When tantrums or meltdowns turned her into a poltergeist, you’d demand a loving time-out in the naughty chair. From this day forward I want you to extend that same compassion to your adult self.

There weren't any time-outs, though. Not in life, and not in hockey.

It’s time to stop allowing people to blame the woman for everything. As women, we try to figure out what they need, what they want; and the entire time we’re stressing ourselves out and they don’t give a shit as long as it’s done. Hell, no. Timeout for that too! We do not give a rat’s ass anymore—they are quick to blame us for their mess-ups and think we are supposed to make magic happen. It is time to let them deal with it and figure out how they are going to mend their shit. If they want to blame us, let them, who cares? Their shit isn’t our problem. Go ahead, blame the women. We are holding up the peace sign, smiling and laughing, feeling good as we press forward! ​We are free and feel refreshed. It feels good to be the last ones standing. We look at life totally differently, and we now see that it’s okay to be a little rough around the edges.

Down the hall I could hear the thud of basketballs, the blare of the time-out horn, and the shouts of the crowd as the sports-beasts fought: Lisbon Greyhounds versus Jay Tigers. Who can know when life hangs in the balance, or why?

Seriously? Do you ever not think about food?" "Of course I do," Dex replied with a smirk. "When I'm thinking about sex. Though sometimes I like to think of both at the same time." He wriggled his eyebrows, but his partner remained unimpressed. "Am I going to have to give you a time-out?

Sometimes it felt like she was still in the middle of a conversation with him, that they’d only paused for a beat; that this was nothing more than the space between musical notes, the timeout on a playing field, the long, slumbering winter before an inevitable spring.

Wow,” said Fishy. “I don’t think I heard a single full stop in there. You know, when you start talking entirely in comma splices, you’re probably ready for a time-out and a tranquilizer.

I was your man, you were halfway around the world from me, honey, I'd fuckin' phone you," he said quietly. "Niles is reserved," I whispered. "Niles is an ass," he returned and my brows drew together. "You don't know him." "I know men, and I know he's not reserved, he's an ass." I pulled my head together, my hand from his and snapped, "Yes? And how do you know that?" "Because I've seen you naked, I've seen you sweet, I've seen you unsure and I've seen you riled and, seein' all that, I know, you were half a world away from me, I'd fuckin' phone." "Perhaps that's not the kind of relationship Niles and I have," I suggested snottily, but his words hit me somewhere deep, somewhere I didn't know I had. "You on a timeout?" "What?" "If you told me you needed a timeout, first, I wouldn't fuckin' let you have one, second, I wouldn't give you reason to fuckin' want one, last, you took off anyway, I'd fuckin' phone.

Imagine a nonpatriarchal culture where counseling was available to all men to help them find the work that they are best suited to, that they can do with joy. Imagine work settings that offer timeouts where workers can take classes in relational recovery, where they might fellowship with other workers and build a community of solidarity that, at least if it could not change the arduous, depressing nature of labor itself, could make the workplace more bearable. Imagine a world where men who are unemployed for any reason could learn the way to self-actualization.

I call time-outs like these “vigilance breaks”—brief pauses before high-stakes encounters to review instructions and guard against error.

my heart needs to go sit on the bleachers and take a serious timeout.

It is ok to recognize when you need a timeout. It is ok to guard your mental health like a fortress and to shut the gates when it is time for a break.

Again, wars do not really end until the conditions that started them--a bellicose government, an aggressive leader, a national policy of brinksmanship--are eliminated. Otherwise, there remains a bellum interruptum, much like the so-called Peace of Nicias, when Athens and Sparta agreed to a time-out in 421 B.C., before going at each other with renewed and deadly fury in 415 B.C.

actions on a loop. Change the diaper. Make the formula. Warm the bottle. Pour the Cheerios. Wipe up the mess. Negotiate. Beg. Change his sleeper. Get her clothes out. Where’s the lunch box? Bundle them up. Walk. Faster. We’re late. Hug her good-bye. Push the swing. Find the lost mitten. Rub the pinched finger. Give him a snack. Get another bottle. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Put him in the crib. Clean. Tidy. Find. Make. Defrost the chicken. Get him up from the crib. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Change his diaper. Put him in the high chair. Clean up his face. Wash the dishes. Tickle. Change the diaper. Tickle. Put the snacks in a baggie. Start the washing machine. Bundle him up. Buy diapers. And dish soap. Race for pickup. Hello, hello! Hurry, hurry. Unbundle. Laundry in the dryer. Turn on her show. Time-out. Please. Listen to my words. No! Stain remover. Diaper. Dinner. Dishes. Answer the question again and again. Run the bath. Take off their clothes.

When they taught common sense in kindergarten, you were in the timeout corner, weren’t you?

You’d better open the gate soon, or your mother’s going to put you in time-out when she finally gets in the house,

in time-out. That’s how you’re acting—like five-year-olds. It’s time you realized that you are sixteen and way too old for this nonsense. And you

Oh, fancy seeing you here.” Cas grins. “First time in the time-out zone?

Elephant toddlers are a handful. You think humans are bad? Try putting a two-hundred-pound baby elephant in time-out.

The world will give you that once in a while, a brief timeout; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.

If you told me you needed a time-out, first I wouldn't fuckin' let you have one. Second, I wouldn't give you a reason to fuckin' want one. And last, you took off anyway, I'd fuckin' phone.

Meditation is a mysterious method of self-restoration. It involves “shutting” out the outside world, and by that means sensing the universal “presence” which is, incidentally, absolute perfect peace. It is basically an existential “time-out”—a way to “come up for a breath of air” out of the noisy clutter of the world. But don’t be afraid, there is nothing arcane or supernatural or creepy about the notion of taking a time-out. Ball players do it. Kids do it, when prompted by their parents. Heck, even your computer does it (and sometimes not when you want it to). So, why not you? A meditation can be as simple as taking a series of easy breaths, and slowly, gently counting to ten in your mind.

You know how when you step on court your coach is like "go go go!"? And all throughout you just keep telling yourself to hit harder and harder and keep at it? You know how much you treasure those five-minute timeouts? You know how good you feel at the end of a session? You know how you're glad you're tired? No pills, no shots, just plain energy. I want to work like that. Whether I have to write ten thousand words or send five hundred emails, brainstorm for hours at a time, I want to have that energy. To keep fighting. To know it's all worth it. Oh, yeah. That's my perfect day.

I was a soldier, executing a series of physical actions on a loop. Change the diaper. Make the formula. Warm the bottle. Pour the Cheerios. Wipe up the mess. Negotiate. Beg. Change his sleeper. Get her clothes out. Where’s the lunch box? Bundle them up. Walk. Faster. We’re late. Hug her good-bye. Push the swing. Find the lost mitten. Rub the pinched finger. Give him a snack. Get another bottle. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Put him in the crib. Clean. Tidy. Find. Make. Defrost the chicken. Get him up from the crib. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Change his diaper. Put him in the high chair. Clean up his face. Wash the dishes. Tickle. Change the diaper. Tickle. Put the snacks in a baggie. Start the washing machine. Bundle him up. Buy diapers. And dish soap. Race for pickup. Hello, hello! Hurry, hurry. Unbundle. Laundry in the dryer. Turn on her show. Time-out. Please. Listen to my words. No! Stain remover. Diaper. Dinner. Dishes. Answer the question again and again. Run the bath. Take off their clothes. Wipe up the floor. Are you listening? Brush teeth. Find Benny the Bunny. Put on pajamas. Nurse. A story. Another story. Keep going, keep going, keep going.

How can teachers teach when parents demand exceptions and cry foul every time their kid gets crossways? Sometimes we step in and advocate, but sometimes our kids are lame and need to own up. Let them feel the sting of detention, a zero, a lost privilege, a time-out. Let failure instruct them.

Does being forced to sit in time-out ever make little kids stop putting cats in the dishwasher or drawing on white walls with purple marker? Of course not. It teaches them to be sneaky and guarantees that when they get to high school they’ll love detention because it’s a great place to sleep.

When we called time-out with twenty-five seconds to go,” he re-called, “we went into the huddle and Phil said, ‘Michael, I want you to take the last shot,’ and Michael said, ‘You know, Phil, I don’t feel comfortable in these situations. So maybe we ought to go in another direction.’ Then Scottie said, ‘You know, Phil, Michael said in his commercial that he’s been asked to do this twenty-six times and he’s failed. So why don’t we go to Steve.

Solitude is very different from a ’time-out’ from our busy lives. Solitude is the very ground from which community grows. Whenever we pray alone, study, read, write, or simply spend quiet time away from the places where we interact with each other directly, we are potentially opened for a deeper intimacy with each other.

There’s an African proverb that says, “A child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.

Ten-minute time-out for platitudes.

When you find yourself stressed, tense, and veering toward anxiety eating, take a time-out for just three breaths. Long, deep breaths.

I think the worst sort of time travel is how the clock speeds up when I'm on my break.

I feel ___ when you ___ because ___,” and that demands a time-out from the other person. But be careful with the big “I”: You have to

She doesn’t want to.” And then speaking to her coil of hair where Nini lives: “I won’t let them put us in a time-out again. It was the boy in the red shoes. His fault.

Wwait hold up," he makes timeout sign with his hands, "ocean girl did u just say awesome?

we lied half as much as grown-ups do, we’d be in time-out forever.

I had only asked God for a time-out, which had been granted, but now the clock was ticking again.

Rising frustration is usually a good time-out signal for you, signaling that you need to shift to diffuse mode.

You’ve been a bad alien cylinder,” I say to it. “You need a time-out.

If things feel off, they are. If your gut and your mind are throwing up the timeouts begging you to listen, then listen.

I am too mad right now to talk about this. I am going to take a time-out and calm down.

Fathers have the ability to create a “time-out,” whereas mothers find it much harder to do so

Vagabonding involves taking an extended time-out from your normal life—six weeks, four months, two years—to travel the world on your own terms.

Nurses and doctors have no break for summer training like in hockey, no finals, no time-outs. Their season just goes on, day after day after day, and that can break even the very toughest.

there often comes a moment, in the heat of your desperation, when you call a “time-out.” And you withdraw from the cyclone of illusion that swirls around you. And you find, after all that drama, that the stillness within is still there waiting. It never left. You did. And you scattered a mind-boggling trail of chaos behind you. So that, when all else fails—as it inevitably does—you would find your way home.

I was seen—I who was seldom seen by anyone. I who was taught, by you, to be invisible in order to be safe, who, in elementary school, was sent to the fifteen-minute time-out in the corner only to be found two hours later, when everyone was long gone and Mrs. Harding, eating lunch at her desk, peered over her macaroni salad and gasped, "My god! My god, I forgot you were still here! What are you still doing here?

I don’t think people realize how fucking weird Christianity is if you’re not raised around it. But, hey, it got me off time-out. And, who knows, maybe a billion white people can’t be wrong and it’s all really true.

His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn’t used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated.

The first week at August’s was a consolation, a pure relief. The world will give you that once in a while, a brief timeout; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.

When the bathtub crashed through the floor into the living room, he had to take an hour-long time-out so he wouldn’t strangle me and be known on online encyclopedias as a daughter killer, so I’m not sure he loves every minute of it.

sometimes the best solution for avoiding conflict is to see it coming and lie low for a while. Take a time-out to center yourself so that you can then come together again with greater understanding, acceptance, validation, and approval.

Make the Leader Occasionally Disappear: Several leaders of successful groups have the habit of leaving the group alone at key moments. One of the best at this is Gregg Popovich. Most NBA teams run time-outs according to a choreographed protocol: First the coaches huddle as a group for a few seconds to settle on a message, then they walk over to the bench to deliver that message to the players. However, during about one time-out a month, the Spurs coaches huddle for a time-out…and then never walk over to the players. The players sit on the bench, waiting for Popovich to show up. Then, as they belatedly realize he isn’t coming, they take charge, start talking among themselves, and figure out a plan.

If America could get a timeout on endless immigration from the Third World, we’d have a chance to reform ourselves and drain these deep sewers of depravity, racism, and xenophobia that liberals keep finding around every corner. They’ll be happier. We’ll be happier. After a half century of taking in the hardest cases in the world, America needs a little “me time.

instead of a time-out, you might ask her to practice handling a situation differently. If she’s being disrespectful in her tone or words, you can have her try it again and communicate what she’s saying respectfully. If she’s been mean to her brother, you might ask her to find three kind things to do for him before bedtime. That way, the repeated experience of positive behavior begins to get wired in her brain. (Again,

good listener whom you can talk to about anything, as many times as you need to, and confidentially   Time and space for solitude and reflection   Someone who is willing to guard your privacy   To feel protected, honored, and nurtured   Reassurance that you are doing a good job   Noncritical support and advice   Praise and encouragement   Time-out now and then for a bath, a shower, or a quiet moment   Good, healthy food   Plenty of rest   Respect for your emotions

I was never able to find it in the analysis of chemicals or in degree programs or in any of my schools. But sometimes I find it in the soft flutter of butterflies, in the wildness of plants growing undomesticated in a forest clearing, in the laughter and running of young children, their hair flowing in the wind, and sometimes, sometimes I find it in the words of teachers who come among us from time to time—out there, far outside these walls, in the wildness of the world.

There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It’s regular time. It’s one minute at a time, staring down the clock until bedtime time. It’s ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, four screaming minutes in time-out time, two hours until Daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow-passing time we parents often live in. Then there’s Kairos time. Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. Kairos is those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day, and I cherish them.

Five years from today. Where, exactly, do you want to be?" Her eyes lit up. Sadie loves that kind of question. "Ooh. Wow. Let me think. December, getting close to Christmas. I'll be twenty-one..." "Passed out under the tree with a fifth of Jack, half a 7-Eleven rotisserie chicken, and a cat who poops in your shoes." Frankie returned our startled glances with his lizard look. "Oh, wait. That's me. Sorry." I opted to ignore him. "Five years to the day,Sadie." She glanced quickly between Frankie and me. "Do we need a time-out here?" "Nope," I said. "Carry on." "Okay. Five years. I will be in New York visiting the pair of you because, while NYU is fab, I will be halfwau through my final year of classics at Cambridge, trying to decide whether I want to be a psychologist or a pastry chef. You," she said sternly to Frankie, "will be drinking appropriate amounds of champagne with your boyfriend, a six-three blond from Helsinki who happens to design for Tory Burch. Ah! Don't say anything. It's my future. You can choose a different designer when it's you go. I want the Tory freebies." She turned to me. "We will be sipping said champagne in the middle of the Gagosian Galley, because it is the opening night of your first solo exhibit. At which everything will sell." She punctuated the sentence by poking the air with a speared black olive. "I love you," I told her. Then, "But that wasn't really about you." "Oh,but it was," she disagreed, going back to her salad. "It's exactly where I want to be. Although" -she grinned over a tomato wedge- "I might have the next David Beckham in tow." "The next David Beckham is a five-foot-tall Welshman named Madog Cadwalader. He has extra teeth and bow legs." "Really?" Sadie asked. Frankie snorted. "No.Not really.

I know I’m supposed to be so smart, but guess what? I don’t remember any of it! And double-guess what? I’m totally fine now, and have been for nine and a half years. Just take a time-out and ponder that. For two-thirds of my life I’ve been totally normal. Mom and Dad bring me back to Children’s every year for an echocardiogram and X rays that even the cardiologist rolls her eyes at because I don’t need them. Walking through the halls, Mom is always, like, having a Vietnam flashback. We’ll pass some random piece of art hanging on the wall and she’ll grab onto a chair and say, Oh, God, that Milton Avery poster. Or, gulping a big breath, That ficus tree had origami cranes hanging on it that awful Christmas. And then she’ll close her eyes while everyone just stands there, and Dad hugs her really tight, tears flooding his eyes, too.

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He’d never felt anything like that. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goalposts — he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out — and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn’t turn it. He couldn’t direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Lee was still commentating. “Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — oh no . . .” The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry’s broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

The expert opinion recommends against spanking for three reasons. One is that spanking has harmful side effects down the line, including aggression, delinquency, a deficit in empathy, and depression. The cause-and-effect theory, in which spanking teaches children that violence is a way to solve problems, is debatable. Equally likely explanations for the correlation between spanking and violence are that innately violent parents have innately violent children, and that cultures and neighborhoods that tolerate spanking also tolerate other kinds of violence.177 The second reason not to spank a child is that spanking is not particularly effective in reducing misbehavior compared to explaining the infraction to the child and using nonviolent measures like scolding and time-outs. Pain and humiliation distract children from pondering what they did wrong, and if the only reason they have to behave is to avoid these penalties, then as soon as Mom’s and Dad’s backs are turned they can be as naughty as they like. But perhaps the most compelling reason to avoid spanking is symbolic. Here is Straus’s third reason why children should never, ever be spanked: “Spanking contradicts the ideal of nonviolence in the family and society.

Parenting meant that whether or not your children understood you, your obligation was to understand them; understanding was the key to everything. If your children believed you understood them, or at least tried to understand them, they wouldn’t hate you when they became adolescents; what’s more, they would grow up to be happy, well-adjusted adults who would never have to squander their money (or, far more likely, yours) on psychoanalysis or whatever fashion in self-improvement had come along to take its place. Parenting used entirely different language from just plain parenthood, language you would never write in big capital letters in order to make clear that it had been uttered impulsively or in anger. So it went more or less like this: I’m sure you didn’t mean to break Mommy’s antique vase, sweetheart. We should talk about this. I know how frustrated and angry you must feel right now. Why don’t you go to your room and take a time-out and come back when you’re feeling better. If you want, I’ll call Jessica’s mother to see what her reasoning is. If you finish your homework, we can talk about the tiara. Stage Two: The Child Is an Adolescent Adolescence comes as a gigantic shock to the modern parent, in large part because it seems so much like the adolescence you yourself went through.

INTENSITY A Summary Intensity is the driving force behind the strong reactions of the spirited child. It is the invisible punch that makes every response of the spirited child immediate and strong. Managed well, intensity allows spirited children a depth and delight of emotion rarely experienced by others. Its potential to create as well as wreak havoc, however, makes it one of the most challenging temperamental traits to learn to manage. Intense spirited kids need to hear: You do everything with zest, vim, vigor, and gusto. You are enthusiastic, expressive, and full of energy. Your intensity can make you a great athlete, leader, performer, etc. Things can frustrate you easily. Being intense does not mean being aggressive. Teaching tips: Help your child learn to notice her growing intensity before it overwhelms her. Provide activities that soothe and calm, such as warm baths, stories, and quiet imaginative play. Use humor to diffuse intense reactions. Protect her sleep. Make time for exercise. Teach your child that time-out is a way to calm herself. If you are intense too: Do not fear your child’s intensity. Diffuse your own intensity before you step in to help your child. Take deep breaths, step away from the situation, get the sleep you need, or ask for help to cope with your own intensity. Review in your own mind the messages you were given about intensity. Dump those that negate the value of intensity or leave you feeling powerless.

Snuggle Time Sometimes I yell. Sometimes I hurry. Sometimes I fuss. And sometimes I worry. All is not lost. Everything is fine. I love you so much. Now it’s snuggle time! Preparation and Instructions: Each day, designate a “snuggle time.” This is a five-minute time-out from the hustle of life. The Game: To make a gentle transition from a busy time to a snuggle time, say the rhyme. This rhyme is the signal for both you and the child to locate each other and settle in together. Snuggle time is the time to hold each other, rock in a chair, or read a book.

The minute you think you have something in the bag, you get thrown a curveball. Pascal was two. I was thinking, Terrible twos? Whatever. I got this parenting thing nailed. I could do it on one foot, with my eyes closed. Then he turned three. Literally the day my child turned three, the devil himself moved into my house. I was like Holy shit! None of my tools worked. I cried. A lot.

I call time-outs like these “vigilance breaks”—brief pauses before high-stakes encounters to review instructions and guard against error. Vigilance breaks have gone a long way in preventing the University of Michigan Medical Center from transmogrifying into the Hospital of Doom during the afternoon trough. Tremper says that in the time since he implemented these breaks, the quality of care has risen, complications have declined, and both doctors and patients are more at ease.

That said, people typically need some time to calm down before they can talk about what made them angry, regardless of their emotional maturity level. Forcing an issue when both parties are still angry isn’t a good idea. Taking a time-out often works better, helping people avoid saying things in the heat of an argument that they might later regret. In addition, people sometimes need space to deal with their feelings on their own first.

By “base of power” I mean the element in the parent-child relationship that makes it possible for parents to set limits on children’s misbehavior—something all kids want and need. For some parents, the base of power is threats, humiliation, or spanking. Others, who are overly permissive, may feel they have no base of power at all. For Emotion-Coaching parents, the base of power is the emotional bond between parent and child. When you are emotionally connected to your child, limit setting comes out of the your genuine reactions to your child’s misbehavior. Your child responds to your anger, disappointment, and worries, so you don’t have to resort to negative consequences such as spanking and time-outs to amplify your feelings.

Timeout, like with kids, is a way more effective punishment than spanking.

Whoa,” Hester said, making her hands into a T. “Time-out.” Fagbenle looked annoyed. “I’d like to continue my questioning.” “And I’d like to tongue-bathe Hugh Jackman,” Hester said, “so both of us are going to have to live with a little disappointment.” Hester rose. “Stay here, Detective. We will be right back.

It turns out, switching our parenting mindset from “consequences” to “connection” does not have to mean ceding family control to our children. While I resist time-outs, punishments, consequences, and ignoring, there’s nothing about my parenting style that’s permissive or fragile. My approach promotes firm boundaries, parental authority, and sturdy leadership, all while maintaining positive relationships, trust, and respect.

When Max imagined that even the surface of the sun was frozen still and that everything in the infinite universe he'd learned about in astronomy had take a time-out because his little brother found a key in the woods behind St. Monroe Elementary, his head started to spin.

Since people who are engaged in redwork often have a performance (prove or protect) mindset, it is difficult for them to call time-out on themselves.

The team relies on the leader either to preplan the length of the redwork and the moment of exiting redwork or to spontaneously call a time-out during a redwork period, in essence, an audible when needed.

I’m pretty sure my brain takes a timeout and fills with my favorite Lorelai-and-Rory banter from Gilmore Girls instead

Balz glanced back at the charred maple he’d run into and deconstructed his nap time. After he’d stalked through the rubble and come up with nothing, he’d copped a squat at the base of the tree to consider all his no-go. That split-second time-out was all it had taken. Sleep had claimed him with such force and stealth, he couldn’t remember fighting the tackle of it, and that was all the demon needed. His lack of consciousness was Devina’s open door and she never failed to take advantage of the invitation he never offered

Our general discomfort with solitude may be due to how society frames it. Consider how we discipline children: time-out. Or how we punish prisoners: solitary confinement. This tradition, Bowker thinks, may have cued us to believe that normalcy is found through others and that solitude is punishment.

time-out here on the edge of ourselves.

Even with boring old punishment, the natural creativity of schools cannot be suppressed. The names for isolation rooms bear this out beautifully. We casually refer to it as isolation, seclusion (like a secluded beach resort!), the hole, the growth mindset room, respite, the grade room, challenge!, the time-out room and, unbelievably, the inclusion room. I can think of nothing less inclusive than a cell. Heaping punishment on damaged children is not right.

BRAMBLE RULES No time-outs. Abilities are allowed. Tackling is also allowed—but no knocking anyone into the lake! (That one’s for you, Biana!) Covering the ball in anything from Slurps and Burps is definitely cheating! (Looking at you, Keefe!) Pretending to be injured and then tackling someone who tries to help you is also cheating. (Another one for you, Keefe.) Losers owe the winners a dare. Winners get to eat all the mallowmelt in the kitchen. (And no, Keefe—I’m not scared. Get ready to lose!) BASE QUEST RULES Both teams’ bases have to be within the main gate. The team that chooses their base first has to quest first. No hiding muskogs in someone’s base! (We all know that wasn’t a “random muskog encounter,” Keefe!) Abilities are allowed. (But staying invisible the whole time makes playing with you super boring, Alvar!) There’s no prize for winning. (Because you guys get way too competitive!)

We've become a species of such excessive sensitivities and complaints as to be unbearable company for one another. That’s why there are pandemics that send us into isolation; it’s nature’s way of parenting a time-out.

The problem with the world is that most people are living slightly ahead of reality, in a kind of confused panic mode. If they only could slow down their minds and arrive in the present moment of reality. Then, I am sure the world would be improved.