Tag: behaviour guidance

The Method of Natural Consequences: Gently Guiding Your Child

~ Storykate ~ Leave a comment


Ever notice how children’s books are full of little mischief-makers? Kids are born explorers—testing boundaries and checking to see just how far they can push before hitting a limit (often ours!). But here’s a comforting thought: there’s really no such thing as intentionally bad behaviour. Children often just don’t know any better yet. They’re not “good kids” or “bad kids”—they’re simply growing, learning, and figuring things out. Our job as parents and educators is to help them on this journey.

I love how psychologist Rudolf Dreikurs puts it: “Just as a plant needs water, a child needs encouragement.” And let’s not forget, kids also need clear boundaries and gentle guidance from us adults.

Setting Clear, Positive Rules

Effective parenting starts with clear, positive rules. Every family will have their own version, like: “We run and play outside, but inside we walk calmly,” or “When playtime is finished, we tidy our toys together.” Kids naturally behave better when they feel valued, listened to, and clearly understand what’s expected of them. It’s essential to be consistent and fair. For instance, it might be unrealistic to expect your two-year-old to sit perfectly still in a restaurant. Maybe leave her at home with a trusted caregiver instead. But a two-year-old can grasp that biting hurts, and we don’t bite our friends.

It’s our direct responsibility as adults to set and talk about these boundaries. If kids cross them, they experience natural consequences—simple and immediate outcomes directly linked to their actions.

Consistency here is key. Natural consequences allow kids to make conscious choices and understand clearly the outcomes of their actions. Unlike punishment, this method doesn’t provoke resistance; it’s much calmer and easier for kids to accept.

Bubbles meditation

Why Natural Consequences, Not Punishments?

Back in the day, the common response to misbehaviour might’ve been spanking, grounding, or taking away privileges. Kids were sometimes viewed as inherently naughty or mischievous. Thankfully, advances in psychology and neuroscience have helped us see children differently—as individuals who need guidance, not control.

Punishments can damage a child’s sense of self-worth and hinder their social development. Trust, the cornerstone of any healthy relationship, is often eroded by punishments, which tend to be about authority rather than understanding. Punishments are often unrelated to the misbehaviour, leaving kids confused and resentful.

Natural consequences, however, encourage cooperation. They help kids learn responsibility and make informed decisions. The consequence directly relates to what happened, and it’s immediate, not something threatened and postponed.

This method fosters inner motivation rather than relying on external control. While it’s most effective for kids aged three and up, younger children can benefit too. For example, if your toddler draws on the wallpaper, calmly guide them to paper instead. Setting gentle, firm boundaries even for very young children is essential.

Staying Calm and Consistent

Stay calm, friendly, and consistent when setting limits. Make sure the consequences are logical and immediate. Avoid threats like “no more trips ever!” Instead, make realistic choices clear: “If you throw rocks, we have to leave the playground.” Then follow through gently and consistently.

Natural consequences may not always feel good to the child, but they’re always safe, respectful, and directly connected to the behaviour. If your child throws their ball over the fence after being warned, simply explain that now there’s no ball to play with—no need for criticism, just a calm acknowledgment of the result.

Both parents need to agree on these consequences. It might take some patience at first, but trust me, this method works beautifully over time. Consider writing down clear consequences for specific behaviours and adjusting as your child grows. You’ll find it becomes second nature!

What do you think? Drop a comment 👇🏿

Let’s debate the virtue of patience…

~ Storykate ~ Leave a comment

When friends and acquaintances learn I work as a preschool teacher, they often smile. They say, “You must have so much patience.” I usually just shrug. I don’t think patience is the most essential quality when working with young children. In fact, I’m not a fan of patience. I’m all for understanding.

Take four-year-old James. He is a sturdy redheaded boy. He just decided who gets to ride the scooter by pushing a three-year-old girl off it. Does James’s behaviour require patience? Is patience what I need, as his teacher, to handle the situation thoughtfully and effectively? What does being “patient” even mean?

According to most English dictionaries, patience is “the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.” The underlying assumption? You’re enduring something unpleasant.

Patience is often seen as a hallmark of good educators. “Kate, I could never do what you do—I don’t have the patience.” “You must be incredibly patient to work with kids every day.” Compliments like that used to make me smile, but lately they’ve started to rub me the wrong way. Probably because I’ve never considered myself particularly patient. Sure, I can sit through a dental appointment in silence, give blood without flinching—but to put up with work that drains me or feels meaningless? No, thank you.

Patience is usually framed as a virtue. It conjures images of someone calm, humble, quietly enduring something difficult. You grit your teeth, take a deep breath, and get through it. Why? Because “patience is a virtue.” Because “good things come to those who wait.” Because “hard work and patience conquer all.” These sayings run deep in our cultural wiring.

But I don’t think early childhood educators, nannies, or parents of young children should rely too heavily on patience. Why? Because if you’re constantly “putting up with” children, it probably means you’re not enjoying the work. It suggests you’re not in a state of flow, as described by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. And that’s a problem. Because it means you’re disconnected.

An educator who truly understands a child’s developmental stage—their strengths, their challenges—won’t suffer silently. Take James again. His behaviour might look aggressive, but developmentally, it’s not out of the ordinary. I’m not about to label him a “troublemaker” or say he’s violent. He’s a great kid—he just doesn’t yet know how to behave differently. Maybe he struggles with self-regulation. Maybe he needs support from a psychologist. Either way, the incident (yes, James pushed someone again) becomes an opportunity to teach, not punish.

At this stage of development, James only knows how to express himself through force. My job is to help him find another way. That doesn’t require me to clench my fists or count to ten—it simply means I remind him, gently and clearly, that we don’t hit people. We use our words. James isn’t distracting me from my work—he is my work. He gives me a reason to model better ways of interacting.

And it’s not just James. There’s Zoya, who loves pulling hair and biting. There’s Ruben. He is autistic and sometimes throws sticks from the top of the slide. This behavior is not out of malice. He doesn’t yet grasp the consequences of his actions.

If I relied solely on patience, I’d burn out by the end of the first week. By the end of the month, I’d be yelling and reacting poorly. What I need far more than patience is understanding. And that understanding comes from developmental theory, from knowing children’s capabilities and limits—and from genuinely wanting to be around them.

Patience has a limit. There’s a reason we say, “Beware the wrath of the patient person.” But understanding, compassion, and connection? They’re renewable.

Teachers and parents who expect three- to five-year-olds to sit quietly on a mat or at a desk? They do need patience—because they lack understanding. It’s almost comical to watch an educator sternly tell a child “for the last time” to take a pencil out of their mouth. They clearly forget what it’s like to be teething and want to chew everything.

Expectations that aren’t age-appropriate only create tension between adults and children. If I know a child’s gums are itchy, I’ll offer a teething toy or some crunchy toast. My voice and body language stay calm—not because I’m forcing patience, but because I get it. When you understand, there’s nothing to endure.

Treating young children’s behaviour as something to be endured—like a headache or a traffic jam—turns it into something threatening. “You’re doing this just to upset your mum!” “Johnny, did you pee your pants on purpose?” Many of us still remember those hurtful lines from our own childhoods. We recall how wrong they were. We also remember how much they shamed us.

But harshness and rejection often come from a simple lack of understanding. When adults take time to really listen—not just to what children say, but to what they mean—they create space for growth. When I understand a child, I respond to them as they are—not as I wish they were. I don’t waste energy fighting the fact that children are, well, children. I use my energy to guide them.

And that, to me, is far more powerful than patience.

Let me know what you think!

Kate