About

Where the bag came from

I grew up in Connecticut, a Gen X latchkey kid. My parents were baby boomers, and they disciplined the way they had been disciplined. Some of it worked, in its way. A lot of it was less than desirable. All of it was impactful, and I still remember it.

Even as a young kid, I told myself to remember how those moments felt, so that when I became a parent I'd know what had to stop with me and what was worth keeping.

My ex-wife and I tried for years before we had our boys. Then came everything every parent knows: the joy, the madness, and a lot of making it up as I went. Five minutes in time out. Pick up your toys. Whatever came out of my mouth first. And whatever I came up with, they argued with.

So I got eleven pieces of paper. I gave five to each of my boys and asked them to write down what they thought were fair punishments for when they acted up. I wrote the eleventh one myself. It said: Get out of Trouble, Free.

We put all eleven into a bag. The next time they acted up, I said, “That's it... Bag of Consequences.” They reached in, pulled out a slip, looked at it, and just went and did it. No pushback. We moved on. It made things easier on all of us.

The paper turned into wooden tiles, and the bag grew up with my boys. After my divorce, I lived with someone who had kids of their own, and bringing two families together was harder than I ever imagined. I leaned on the same principles. That relationship didn't last, but the principles did, and they still ground me as I co-parent my boys with their mom.

Every parent is doing the best they can with what they know in the moment. We're all making it up a little. This is what I've learned, shared so other parents can argue less and connect more with their kids.

When I told a friend about the bag, he said, “What a great name for a book.” He was right.