If my child kept going outside at the age of 3 when told repeated times NOT to, I would lock her out too! I might even stand at the door, and watch her cry for a while. I wouldn't leave her unattended, because I wouldn't want something bad to happen to her! Is that cruel? I don't think so.
As a teen I was witness to an incident like this; it is successful 99% of the time. There's always 1 kid, ya know?! My experience motivated me to the same 'school of thought' as a parent.
I did draw the line @: "if they bite? bite them back!
I also had problems w/my own @toddler age. He used to go from his room to the livingroom and trash the place. That was such a hard time w/him. So for a few months I had a gate across his door to prevent free access to the house. I never felt he was 'locked-in', although I heard lots of disagreement (and not just from him!!)
I had a neighbor who had this problem w/her son. So she locked him out. It wasn't cold or raining, our area is VERY safe; smart kid-walked around to the front porch, slept there, and brags about how cool sleeping outside was :exclaim:
She has 4 kids and all of them be-have (and sleep in the house :rofl: ).
Yes yes yes. I was definitely that one kid. In spades.
My mom would do the same thing with me. I would get too rambunctious, because I was an incredibly hyper child, so occasionally she would kick me out of the house, either in the front yard or the back, so that I could blow off my hyper steam outside where I wouldn't break anything, including my head on the corner of a table. I guess I was probably around 5 or 6. There really wasn't any chance of abduction, despite the fact that she didn't supervise me, because it was a suburban neighborhood in the 70s.
However, her strategy backfired. One time when she locked me in the backyard, I was so enraged that I smashed in a window with a toy boat. The door flew open and she dragged me back inside. I don't remember what happened next.
One of the other many ways in which I was a problem was that when I was sent to my room, I never stayed there. I mean, I could come and go as I pleased, right? Wrong. After about so much of that, my parents bought one of those child proof plastic sheaths that go over doorknobs, and they put it on the inside of my door, so I couldn't get out. Well, I wanted none of that, so I spent my time banging up my fingers trying to peel the thing off. I think I actually managed to destroy one after quite a bit of work.
It's amazing how illogical children can be in some ways. I mean, in the first scenario, one would think that I would have had a much better time playing outside. More room, fresh air, fort, tree swing, but no, it was the principle of the issue. I was locked out against my wishes, even though had I thought it through, I most likely would have enjoyed myself much more in the backyard.
Same with being sent to my room. I had shitloads of fun things to do in my room. I had a whole mess of books (which I only read when I wasn't supposed to, like when I should have been in bed.) a record player, stuffed animals, the works. But because of the fact that I was *put* there, well, that meant that I refused to be there. Once again, principles before pragmatics.
And I have always been a man of principle. I would much rather be right than happy.
I remember when I first realized I could climb out of my crib, even with the extension bars on. I took a header right onto the floor. Mom ran in, and realized that it was probably best if I got a bed at that point, because there was no sense in my damaging my brain at so young an age, when I had years to do that with heavy drinking and smoking in college. It was much safer for me to fall out of a bed than from a crib, so I won *that* round.
So, I guess I fall into that 1% of children on whom these tactics don't work. My warning to parents is: if you have a child of principle, watch the fuck out, because they don't take shit from anybody. You are probably best off just shoving them into a program when they are of age, because there is obviously nothing else you can do to control them. :roll:
I mean, hell. My parents were a cunt hair away from placing me when I was 5. They toured the facility and everything.
