But I never take stories away as punishment for something else, nor did I with dd1. That routine was precious and it didn't matter what she'd done earlier in the day - it was our time to reconnect. I rarely took things away anyway, though. I was and am a lot like Bridget - I prefer discussion and compromise whenever possible, and I like to give my kids agency on the things that are not health or safety necessities.
It's funny about parents and idyllic childhoods. Mine was pretty good, and I always felt sure my parents loved me, even though my mom and I struggled some. I always felt like they knew what they were doing, and were doing the right thing, and that whatever was wrong was my fault. When I became an adult and saw my parents and my childhood/teenage years through clearer eyes, however, I could see that hadn't always been true. They were kinda messed up, and still are. Some of the things I thought my mom taught me well, I'm learning that I actually do not want to emulate. At the same time, though, as a parent myself, I feel for my parents. It's hard. Life itself is hard and dang, I sure don't know the answers and now I realize they didn't either. They did their best, messed me up a little, and I'm trying to do my best and only mess my kids up a little too (in my own way).