Mitchell’s Timeout Tale - Part Two

Recess today brought more adventures with Mitchell, and this time, it was a test of wills that landed him in the timeout high chair. It all started when the kids were enjoying a game of chase on the playground. Laughter echoed around the slide and swings, but Mitchell decided to amp up the excitement by grabbing a handful of mulch and gleefully tossing it into the air. "Mulch rain!" he shouted, giggling as the bits scattered across the ground—and onto two of his classmates. I called his name firmly, hoping to redirect his energy, but Mitchell had shifted into full "tornado mode." The final straw came when he attempted to climb up the wrong side of the slide, narrowly missing colliding with another child coming down.

I had to act quickly, both for his safety and for the sake of the other kids. This wasn’t Mitchell’s first timeout this week, and given yesterday's boundary-testing session where he couldn’t stay put, I decided the high chair would be a better choice. After carrying him inside, he fidgeted and whimpered as I buckled him in, his big eyes alternating between stubborn defiance and the hint of remorse. It was harder on him this time, not being able to squirm around or try to charm his way out of consequences, but he stayed put and cooled off.

By snack time, Mitchell was calm and ready to apologize. Though it was a long morning for both of us, it reminded me how critical consistency is in teaching. Giving Mitchell clear, firm boundaries isn’t just about keeping order; it’s about helping him learn accountability and empathy. It’s a messy job, but these little lessons shape the big ones—and I know that Mitchell, in all his spirited glory, is absorbing more than he lets on. Would using the high chair for timeout be a decision you'd agree with for children as energetic as Mitchell? Why, or why not?