Occasionally he would slow down enough to look over his shoulder to make sure I was with him. I’d say, “Yes, I’m still here. I love you. You can be as mad as you need to be and I’m going to stay with you.” The he’d keep on ‘running’. I have to admit it was hard not to chuckle at how sweet he was, with his little arms pumping away trying to get as far away from me as he could.
Well, I have bad news for you. It’s true that timeouts are infinitely better than hitting, and yelling. But Timeouts teach the wrong lessons, and they don’t work to create better behaved children.