Lost Dog, Lost Kid, and a Lesson in Calm Parenting
Years ago, my wife and I had the good fortune of watching my brother’s three kids for a couple of days. We stayed at their home since the older two were in school and needed some sense of routine. I’ve babysat for family before, but this was the first time I had done so for my brother—and the first time I learned something I still carry with me today.
It started with a moment I’ll never forget. I was mid-sentence, typing away at my computer, when I heard my wife’s voice from another room:
“I need your help.”
That was it. No passive comments like, “It’d be nice if you helped,” or sarcastic remarks like, “A little help here…” Just clear, direct, respectful communication. And because I know my wife—how responsible and capable she is—I knew she wouldn’t ask unless it really mattered.
Turns out, it did.
My nephew, the youngest, had slipped out the front door with our dog, Ginger, and both were now missing. We called out. No answer. A few anxious minutes later, I spotted them near a busy road. They were fine, but that short walk back home gave me time to think about how I wanted to handle the situation.
How do you discipline a child in a way that teaches rather than punishes? That builds trust instead of fear?
That very morning, I had seen a Facebook post about Dr. Dan Siegel’s book No Drama Discipline, which challenges traditional ideas like time-outs. While I’ve seen time-outs work in some cases, I agree that isolating kids can sometimes do more harm than good—especially when connection is what they need most. Disciplining in a way that disconnects the child from us emotionally misses the point.
So instead of launching into a lecture or issuing a punishment, I tried a different approach.
First, I acknowledged what my nephew was trying to do: he wanted to go to the park. Then I calmly explained how worried my wife and I were when we didn’t know where he had gone. At first, he resisted. He was quiet, squirmy, and tried to wriggle off my lap. But I stayed with him—literally and emotionally.
I told him he could go to the park, but only when he was ready to promise he’d let us know where he was going next time. When the rest of the family started heading toward the park, his discomfort grew. I gently repeated the question:
“Will you just let us know next time so your aunt feels safe letting you go?”
He nodded. That was the turning point. I praised his choice and told him I trusted he could do it.
That whole experience reminded me how powerful communication can be—not just in parenting, but in all relationships.
Here are five principles that guided me in that moment and that continue to shape how I work as a therapist, parent, and partner:
Be clear, concise, and direct. Say what you mean. Don’t make people guess.
Acknowledge emotions and intentions. This builds understanding and keeps people from getting defensive.
Ask for commitment. Don’t just talk at someone—invite them into the solution.
Be willing to follow through. I was prepared to miss out on writing so I could sit with my nephew. Kids (and adults) need to know our words mean something.
Reassure and repair. After conflict, reconnect. Praise effort. Rebuild the bridge.
Now, it’s your turn.
Think about a recent moment of conflict or misunderstanding in your life—whether with a child, partner, co-worker, or friend—and ask yourself:
Where could I have been clearer or more direct in my communication?
Did I acknowledge the other person’s emotions or intentions—or just push my own point?
What kind of commitment or follow-through would help build trust in that relationship?
Pick one principle from the list above that resonates with you. Practice it this week. See what changes.
You don’t have to be perfect—just intentional. That’s where real connection starts.