Discipline

Disciplining my child has to be my least favorite part of being a parent. There are people who think I don’t discipline enough, and others who think I’m far too strict.  Most of the latter would be our friends and relatives in Norway, since the gold standard for discipline there is just a good talking to.

One day, my son was playing games far too long on his laptop.  I told him to put it down and find something else to do with his friend who was here visiting from Norway.  He closed it right away because he knew if he didn’t, he’d lose the chance to use it the rest of the day and/or the following day for being disobedient.  The Norwegian mother also told her son that he needed to put down his computer so he could take a break as well.  He responded with an emphatic, “No.” 

In my house, that’s a word with big consequences, but in Norway, it’s thought best to let children express themselves.  She told him again to turn off the computer and again he said, “No.”  After the third time, she just rolled her eyes and said nothing more while the boy played on.  I told her I would have taken away all electronics for a week if Kaleb would’ve disobeyed me like that.  “Oh, I could never do that,” she said, “it would never work,” meaning, her son wouldn’t obey that command, either.

Our part of Norway is known throughout the land as being extraordinarily lenient when it comes to disciplining the children.  The parents I’ve talked to about this just assume the children will figure out for themselves, what behavior works and what doesn’t.  Most parents set no boundaries and even if they did, the only consequence to any disobedience is just a lecture.  

Norwegian parents take on the role more of a friend than an authority figure with their children.  Some say it comes from the guilt they feel that both parents now have to work outside the home in order to maintain the high standard of living they all want, so they go overboard with indulging their kids.

I heard parents talking once about another child and the relationship he had with his parents. They said what sounded like, “they sewed pillows under his arms,” so of course, I had to ask what that meant.

Turns out, they have an expression in Norway that translates literally as that, but it means the child is spoiled.  The picture being painted is of a child with it’s arms outstretched because there’s been pillows sewed under them, attached to their body so the arms can’t even bend and they just walk around helpless, waiting for others to do things for them. 

I guess none of this should be too surprising since I’ve seen far too many Norwegians adults who still have those “pillows sewn under their arms,” as their socialistic government does a great job of taking care of all their needs.