Parenting Finally Adds Up.
Hello, my name is Paul. My wife and I were foster parents for seven years, caring for 13 children and ultimately adopting identical twin boys in 2018. Over the course of 10 years, we completed state-mandated parenting courses, devoured parenting books, attended workshops, seminars, and networked with other foster families.
In August 2020, when my twins were seven, I took them on a four-day camping trip in the beautiful Central Oregon wilderness. I had chosen a campground my outdoorsy friends assured me was the safest around. Why? Because I wanted my boys to simply be boys—to play without any boundaries or fear of being punished.
In August 2020, when my twins were seven, I took them on a four-day camping trip in the beautiful Central Oregon wilderness. I had chosen a campground my outdoorsy friends assured me was the safest around. Why? Because I wanted my boys to simply be boys—to play without any boundaries or fear of being punished.
My 7-year-old twins playing at McKay Crossing Campground in Central Oregon
But the moment we arrived, I was confronted with a serious danger. Our campsite was positioned a short 2 minute stroll away from the top of a three-story high waterfall, jagged rocks below, and even a memorial plaque for a young Navy sailor who had died there. Suddenly, my plan for “boundary-free” fun vanished.
I pulled my boys aside and gave them one clear rule: "You cannot go to the waterfall without me." I repeated it several times and warned them of the punishment for breaking this important boundary: “If you break this rule, we will go home immediately.” I had them repeat back to me the boundaries and the punishment so I knew they understood. Ultimately, they promised me they wouldn't go near the deadly waterfall.
I pulled my boys aside and gave them one clear rule: "You cannot go to the waterfall without me." I repeated it several times and warned them of the punishment for breaking this important boundary: “If you break this rule, we will go home immediately.” I had them repeat back to me the boundaries and the punishment so I knew they understood. Ultimately, they promised me they wouldn't go near the deadly waterfall.
The McKay Crossing Waterfall
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Memorial Plaque
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With that settled, I showed them all of the safe places to play—fallen trees to balance on, rocks to climb up, and a shallow creek to wade in. Soon, they spotted other kids by the small creek, asked if they could join, and I agreed, reminding them once more about the waterfall and the consequences if they go.
Then it happened! Within 20 minutes, my boys were nowhere to be seen. My heart pounded as I sprinted toward the waterfall. There they were—my boys—trailing behind the group of kids heading straight for the cliff’s edge.
I shouted for them to stop, but they continued. When I caught up to them, I calmly took their hands, led them quietly back to camp, and sat them down. Inside, I was boiling: Why can’t my boys just listen? Why do they keep testing my boundaries? I wanted a punishment that would finally make them obey, but nothing came to mind.
When they saw me and realized that they had been caught, I saw the fear and dread on their faces as the pleaded with me: “Daddy, please don't punish us. Please don't make us go home.”
Then it happened! Within 20 minutes, my boys were nowhere to be seen. My heart pounded as I sprinted toward the waterfall. There they were—my boys—trailing behind the group of kids heading straight for the cliff’s edge.
I shouted for them to stop, but they continued. When I caught up to them, I calmly took their hands, led them quietly back to camp, and sat them down. Inside, I was boiling: Why can’t my boys just listen? Why do they keep testing my boundaries? I wanted a punishment that would finally make them obey, but nothing came to mind.
When they saw me and realized that they had been caught, I saw the fear and dread on their faces as the pleaded with me: “Daddy, please don't punish us. Please don't make us go home.”
“I came to a new realization: My mindset was wrong.”
In that moment, I came to a new realization: My mindset was off. My parenting approach had always been “Just listen—or else,” but I realized it didn't work. I knew that my boys needed to learn to make their own good choices at an early age, and that me telling them to listen doesn't work.
I was frustrated, angry, helpless and without an ideas as to how to correct my children. Out of desperation, I finally prayed, “Lord, help me.” And in that very moment, as I was still praying, He answered me.
God gave me what I now call the 1-1 Family parenting techniques. Instantly, my thinking shifted. He gave me this simple formula: For every one second my boys would break my boundaries or the family rules, I would receive one minute for myself to do something that recharges my depleted batteries.
I turned to my boys and said calmly, “You made a poor choice and spent about 120 seconds at the waterfall without me. So I’m going to claim 120 minutes for myself—starting now.”
They burst into tears, expecting their fun to be taken away. But I explained something new: I drew a big line in the dirt around our campsite and said, “For the next two hours, you can do whatever you want inside this new physical boundary. You cannot cross the line, fight, or interrupt me unless it’s an emergency. If you do, I’ll add more minutes. But as long as you make good choices, you’ll still have fun.”
At first, they argued—like always. Calmly, I added one minute for every protest. After 10 arguments and 10 extra minutes later, one twin turned to the other and said, “Stop! Every time we argue, we lose more play time.” Suddenly, they got it. They stayed quiet, then began playing freely within the campsite—chasing chipmunks, digging in the dirt, laughing together.
Meanwhile, I enjoyed my restoration time, sketching the landscape in peace.
When my two hours and 10 minutes were up, I released them to play by the creek again. But I did not need to remind them of the waterfall boundary. This time, boldly exclaimed that they will not go to the waterfall without me—and this time I totally believed them.
For the rest of the trip, they stayed far away from the waterfall. It even became a fun game—me begging for more minutes and them laughing, “No way, Daddy!” The stress melted away, replaced with joy, respect, and freedom.
That weekend turned into one of our best trips ever. My boys made good choices. I regained my energy. And together, we discovered a new way of parenting—one rooted in respect, natural consequences, and God’s wisdom.
When we got home, my boys eagerly told Mommy all about our adventures. I told her about the principle God had given me. And over the next few months, we kept using it—until making good choices became their new habit.
I was frustrated, angry, helpless and without an ideas as to how to correct my children. Out of desperation, I finally prayed, “Lord, help me.” And in that very moment, as I was still praying, He answered me.
God gave me what I now call the 1-1 Family parenting techniques. Instantly, my thinking shifted. He gave me this simple formula: For every one second my boys would break my boundaries or the family rules, I would receive one minute for myself to do something that recharges my depleted batteries.
I turned to my boys and said calmly, “You made a poor choice and spent about 120 seconds at the waterfall without me. So I’m going to claim 120 minutes for myself—starting now.”
They burst into tears, expecting their fun to be taken away. But I explained something new: I drew a big line in the dirt around our campsite and said, “For the next two hours, you can do whatever you want inside this new physical boundary. You cannot cross the line, fight, or interrupt me unless it’s an emergency. If you do, I’ll add more minutes. But as long as you make good choices, you’ll still have fun.”
At first, they argued—like always. Calmly, I added one minute for every protest. After 10 arguments and 10 extra minutes later, one twin turned to the other and said, “Stop! Every time we argue, we lose more play time.” Suddenly, they got it. They stayed quiet, then began playing freely within the campsite—chasing chipmunks, digging in the dirt, laughing together.
Meanwhile, I enjoyed my restoration time, sketching the landscape in peace.
When my two hours and 10 minutes were up, I released them to play by the creek again. But I did not need to remind them of the waterfall boundary. This time, boldly exclaimed that they will not go to the waterfall without me—and this time I totally believed them.
For the rest of the trip, they stayed far away from the waterfall. It even became a fun game—me begging for more minutes and them laughing, “No way, Daddy!” The stress melted away, replaced with joy, respect, and freedom.
That weekend turned into one of our best trips ever. My boys made good choices. I regained my energy. And together, we discovered a new way of parenting—one rooted in respect, natural consequences, and God’s wisdom.
When we got home, my boys eagerly told Mommy all about our adventures. I told her about the principle God had given me. And over the next few months, we kept using it—until making good choices became their new habit.
