Just out of curiosity, how do you define yelling? Is it vein-popping, loud, screaming, scary momster? Is it raising your voice and using your Mom tone? Either way, apparently I do a LOT of it. For Lent (see previous
post) I decided to work on giving up yelling.
To me, yelling is in-your-face, voice level 10, forehead-vein-popping, steam rolling out of ears, screaming, scary (possibly terrifying) momster. Those moments were becoming all too frequent, and it was hurting everyone. I did not like who I became when my inner momster reared its head. I did not like the looks on my kids faces when the momster made an appearance. I did not like what it was doing to my kids...or to me. They say the first step to fixing a problem is to realize you have one. Well, I realized a problem existed a long time ago, and several times I have half-heartedly attempted to address it and fix it. There's always an obstacle standing in my way, though.
For starters there are some people in my life that no matter what I say I'm going to attempt (learning to sew by jumping right in with a huge project, starting to exercise most days of the week, being more patient and positive, yelling less, eating better...) they laugh and say, "You'll never do it." Or they just give me that look, the one that says, "MmmK. We'll see how long that lasts." That used to make me more determined than ever to prove them wrong (for instance with the sewing - which I did), but with some things it made me start to believe maybe those people were right. Maybe they know better what is at the core of who I am. Maybe I am just a mean mom who yells all the time. Maybe I'm broken and don't have the ability to be patient and positive. Maybe, though...maybe it's those people who are wrong.
I don't have a lot of self-esteem anyway, and it's easy to let others' negative opinions of me and my abilities negatively affect my life, which in turn negatively affects my kids' lives. That is why for Lent I determined that I would
not be telling
anyone what I was giving up. Have you figured it out yet? I gave up yelling...well, I tried to at least. For the most part, I did ok. Far from perfect, but ok is somewhere to start.
The first week was really easy. I lowered my voice, I didn't yell, even when my daughter was having some kind of a major melt-down hissy fit and being very verbally abusive (at least as much as an almost-6-year-old can) towards me. I was in tears, and yet I kept my cool (by a hair's breadth) and tried to diffuse the situation without going Momster on her. Past that point it got much more difficult.
There were a few times that I lost it, but I could count on one hand the number of those times. I started paying more attention to how kind and loving my kids are. I started being able to have fun with them again. We were happier. The last time I lost it was Friday night - consequently the last night of Lent. It made me feel like all the work I had done, all the progress I had made was just thrown out. My three-year-old son has started hitting, and punching, my daughter. If I call him down for it once a day, I call him down for it 5 times or more. He doesn't just hit arms and legs, he punches her in the belly. I honestly don't think he's doing it to be mean and to try to hurt her. He does it because he still isn't quite sure what to do with his anger and frustration. The last thing I want is for my kids to turn out like me emotionally - easy to anger and unable to deal with it in a constructive manner. I have prayed for a longer fuse, more patience, better ways to deal with emotions. I still have a lot of trouble with it. At any rate, Friday after I picked my daughter up from school, the kids picked at each other and fought all afternoon. It was tiring. I had dealt with it level-headedly as much as I could. My son pushed my daughter and then started punching her. And. I. Lost. It.
My son ran to another part of the house, hands clamped over his ears, bawling his eyes out. Then I got a tongue-lashing from not one, but two of my near-constant-audience-to-my-parenting-screwups. I didn't even have time to process what had just happened before I was being told (in no certain terms) that I was a bad parent and needed to apologize to my son. Let me first state that anytime I lose it in front of or because of my kids, I do apologize for my behavior. I do not want my kids to think that I don't have to be accountable for my actions and words because I'm Mom. There is nothing wrong with a parent admitting they were wrong and should not have done "that." But, at that point I just needed some time to myself, maybe just 5 minutes, to decompress and figure out what had happened and what to do. Instead I had two other adults talking down at me, telling me how badly I'd damaged my kid, possibly for the rest of his life...and yet they wonder why I think I'm a bad parent. Tell me how many of you have
never once lost your cool with your kid, and I'll tell you how big of a fish-tale you're telling.
Friday night was spent depressed and broken-hearted with an irrepressible flood of tears, a stuffy nose, a flurry of texts between me and one of those people (who also happens to be one of my biggest champions). My kids were so incredibly sweet during that time - they brought me tissues, shared stuffed animals to cuddle, told me they would do everything for me from helping me get dressed to cooking and washing dishes. I came out of it with a new resolve that this is
not who I am. I will not allow myself to be that person any longer. It is a daily struggle - believe me. It is going to take time - lots of it. But this, this coward's way of dealing with my kids' misbehavior, of not dealing with any underlying issues that cause my hair-trigger, short-fuse, ticking-time-bomb inner momster, this has to end...n-o-w yesterday. I have a good start. It was not a perfect Lent by far. I'm only human, and I fall down a lot. Let's just pray that I will fall down less often and not as hard when I do. Maybe I can get to a place where I only trip, stumble, but catch myself. Maybe there is a place in my future where I will walk gracefully, peacefully, and parent without even needing to raise my voice. Here's the thing,
I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me, and He does just that, daily. I just have to remember to take a breath and ask for His guidance and patience
before I deal with difficult situations rather than ask for His forgiveness after I've dealt with it poorly.
