My sister and I are in a disagreement about how we discipline our kids. I am not cruel to my kids, but I am strict. My wife is a little easier with the kids then I am, but she’s not a wimp. My sister used to like to do those silly “time outs” for a couple of minutes. Now that her kids are older, she might send them to their room, kill a weekend privilege, or sometimes just talk to them. We are not spankers, but if our kids screw up, they’ll know they’ve been punished. You seem to write a lot on your web site about parenting, so I thought I would get your opinion.

 
Actually, I have a lot to say about parenting and discipline.  As I began my career working at a residential treatment center for abused and neglected children, I will skip the torture thing and go right into the more typical punishments. This is fresh on my mind as I recently had a teenage boy who got caught stealing a big ‘ol iPhone 7. In addition to his school punishment, his parents added their own to the mix. Upon his return from school, he must sit at the kitchen table and, well, sit. After supper he continues to sit. Another problem is: there is no limit to this punishment. He is on his second month. When I asked him what he must do in order to get off, he had no idea.
 
On the other end of the scale, a kid’s mother knew he was a bike thief from hell. The bicycle shop owner, a grizzled ex-biker, took the kid’s bike from him and told him to have his mother come down to the shop to talk to him about the bike. She came down the next day with a loaded .357, cocked it, pointed at his eye and took her son’s stolen bike back.
 
Another teen got into a fight and knocked the dog out of the other kid, necessitating an ER visit at the local hospital. Along with legal consequences and restitution, his permanently pissed off father “grounded” him. This grounding included taking his son’s bedroom door off its hinges, forbidding him to work on getting his driver’s license, and virtually not speaking to him….. FOR TWO YEARS!
 
So, what is the reason for punishing our kids? Most parents would agree it is to teach them they better not do that stupid shit again. So how much of our disgust, anger, embarrassment and disappointment do we factor into our punishments? If we are doing it right, the answer is: not much. We have to use our brains, not our anger to teach our kids.
 
In my many years as a counselor and as a parent, and there are very few idiot behaviors from kids that I have not seen. Thus I suggest that parents consider the following:

1. Keep punishments short term. This usually means days or a week (or two if you must). There’s always room to add on if junior is still acting the fool.

2. Give the kid a workable way to get off of grounding. Also: see above.

3. Try to tie the punishments to the offense. In the first example of sticky fingered cell phone boy, you could find out what a used phone would cost (about $350), and have him do that much extra labor around the house and yard. At minimum wage, that’s a bunch of work. Keep track of the hours. Make a time sheet. You don’t have to pay him, but show him how hard it is to buy what he ripped off.
 
4. DO NOT punish your kid out of anger. I mean, maybe it’s great therapy for the angry parent to enjoy continuously punish their kid, but it’s massively inappropriate to enjoy hammerin’ your kid because you’re still pissed off.

5. Don’t be too “proud” to ask for an opinion from someone who may have some extra ideas. I’m a little sadly lame at building stuff, so I asked my friend for his ideas for a sturdy gate for my office. With his good ideas (and help), I’ve got it up. Getting ideas doesn’t mean obeying; it just means getting extra ideas.
 
Being a good disciplinarian doesn’t just mean being tough, it means teaching your kid right from wrong. Do it like a good mother or father.

Here it is: The Fourth of July. I know I take the risk of alienating a few patriotic friends in saying this, but I’ve never been exactly “proud” to be an American. I know how blessed my life is living here, but being proud is associated with some kind of fine accomplishment, and I did nothing to be an American other than having the great fortune to have been born here. But then I met the Russian cab driver.
 
Denise and I were celebrating our 45th Wedding Anniversary by going to Manhattan for the first time as a married couple. The amazing adventure is another story in itself. With all the “cab” rides we took, we engaged most of our drivers in conversation. Every one of them came from foreign countries. One fella, Ivan was really interesting; married with two pre-teen daughters and a wife who worked for a dermatologist. Now, this story is only properly significant if you can mentally put a strong Russian accent on him.
I asked him where in Russia he was from and he said [remember the cool accent please], “The mountains of Russia. Do you know where Ural Mountains are?” When we told him we did, he was very pleased. “My mother and father still live there. I want my mother to come visit me but she is frightened of airplanes. My father was here last year. We had a nice time. When I spoke to my mother a few nights ago to ask her to come and visit, she was crying. So I will go back to see her.” When I commented about his very good English he said, “I took classes when I came six years ago and I like to talk with customers to help with my English. My friend lives in Russian area in Brooklyn. You know, in Brooklyn, people have areas of their own people. There are Jews, Italians, Chinese, many people. My friend only talks with Russians. After six years, all he can say in English is ‘ay-low’. I tell him he is stoopid. He must learn how talk and how to live here. You know, this is my country. I must get better and better.”
 
I was stunned. I quickly realized I have never heard anyone say that before: “This is my country”. Suddenly I thought how amazing is it that we are many people’s lifelong dream to come to America? I was flooded with my first rush of pride that I am in the most desirable country in the world.  I know, of course we have plenty to work and improve upon. I know we are far from perfect. Nevertheless, to say with pride and deep affection, “This is my country” is profound, and we are blessed.