My dad used to say to me, "Do as I say, not as I do." Fortunately, he's the kind of man where often doing as he did was the right thing. But he'll admit he has a temper. And -- sigh -- I have to admit the same. I find myself having to apologize to my kids every now and again, almost always because I've lost my temper.
The thing is, I didn't KNOW I had such a temper until I had kids. People warn that you can't truly prepare for parenting, but you can at least anticipate certain things such as sleepless nights and coming into contact with more poop than a dairy farmer.
I did not, however, anticipate the times when just one more thing crawls. all. over. me. leading to bellowing and snorting and frantic hand-waving. It's ridiculous. I usually realize it's ridiculous in the midst of the snorting and deflate like a Whoopee cushion. Cue the apology.
This is something I've really been working on the last several months. God used Madeline to grab my attention on this when, in the course of a bedtime discussion, she commented quite calmly, "No, Mom, you don't yell at us all the time. ... Just most the time."
Hello, Conviction. Yes, just take that batt you've got there in your hand and beat me with it. Thanks.
OK. I wasn't yelling at my kids MOST of the time. In fact -- as she protests like Lady Macbeth -- I don't yell as much as I "raise my voice." (There is a distinction. Yes, there is.) As it happens, I have a strong, somewhat deep voice that always got me called out in school no matter who else was talking (Janet and Lori). In any case, Madeline's perception is what mattered. And, clearly, I was hollering/raising my voice too much.
These days I try, when I feel the pressure rising, to just get quiet. To speak very low. (Have you seen Meryl Streep in "The Devil Wears Prada"? I mean the tone; not the evil.) This tactic doesn't necessarily diffuse the situation, but it does seem to keep it from ratcheting things up.
A number of times recently, as I've tucked Madeline into bed, I've thanked God for the time she and I spent together that day: time with a minimum of head-butting or wailing. That's not because Madeline has changed. That's because I'm changing. And just this week I had one of the best days I've had with Connor in a long time. He was less mercurial. Part of that is the fact that he's maturing. Part of that is the fact that I'm maturing.
Remarkably, striving to be a better parent is making me a better person.
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12 comments:
Oh, Toni. You always inspire me--to be a better mother and to be a better writer. If this is your "tossed out" writing, I shudder to see your best work. I think there's probably room on Mt. Rushmore for you :)
To top it off, I've never read anything that included a Whoopee cushion AND convicting writing in the same piece. That's skill!
I'm off to look up "mercurial." :)
First, I agree with Sarah. I always know you're going to inspire me, make me laugh and teach me a new vocabulary word.
Secondly, I always try to remember something I read by Dr. Dobson that said yelling at our kids is about as effective as a policeman yelling at us to slow down but not giving us a ticket.
Not that I still don't yell sometimes, but I always think of Dr. Dobson when I do.
I've been living on The Frazzled Edge for a while, and I'm earnestly seeking God's grace and the transforming power of the Holy Spirit in this very particular part of my relationship with my children.
Hello, Conviction? When you're done at Toni's, point that big ol' bat over here...
Great post as usual. You are so smart to start changing this when they are young. My last-year's Sunday School teacher is a Doctor of Psychology, who specializes in children/teens. (Did I hit the Sunday School jackpot or what? Hello? Free parenting therapy once a week!) He told us that yelling is NEVER okay. NEVER. Gulp. He said it changes who your children are.
I sure don't have this particular lesson down just yet. However, one thing that has diffused this issue somewhat for me is my children. They are teenage boys now, and at just the mere hint of a blown fuse and some crazy shrieking lady stomping through the house, they CRACK UP. They don't mean to and they are not disrespectful boys by nature(most of the time), BUT just the site of all the craziness that a yelling person looks like, they can't help themselves. They try to swallow their reaction, but the laughter always bursts forth, covering us all with a little much-needed levity.
It's wonderful that you are aware of this and are working on it. Your kids are lucky. (YES, the ARE!)
Thanks for being my new favorite blog! I have laughed so hard reading your archives.
I noticed when I was teaching and now with my own kids that they call ANY UNPLEASANT INFORMATION "yelling" even if it's in the most quiet tone possible. Seriously- I can WHISPER (teeth clenched but still at a whisper) "Clean.your.room.now." and my daughter will say, "Stop yelling at me!". Huh? So maybe, just maybe, YOU aren't the one with the problem! HA!
Toni~mercy, it's Phyllis and the comment above, with the header, "Samuel said", is mine! Sam is my 16-year-old, and our resident computer genius. You know I've been having trouble commenting on your site. I told Sam and he said he would fix it. He did, but he must have signed in under his name. He would surely die from embarrassment at being considered the voice of his mother! On a blog! For all the world to read!
We'll try to fix this, but if we can't just know that "Samuel said" is me! (I'm just glad I/"Samuel" can leave a comment for you again!)
I've never met a mother yet who isn't guilty of this. To this day I blush when I realize that my neighbors probably heard me yelling at my kids.
The amazing thing is, now that they're grown, I'm sitting here tonight realizing I seriously have not raised my voice in years. Years!
Barb's right - the kids move out and it magically stops. Still, loved the take of concurrent maturing cycles going on in your house. I'm sure that's about what God had in mind all along.
I've been a serious yeller in my earlier years of parenting. I really had a problem--I was on such a short fuse. Through a series of maturing years in my life, I've come to find that I don't yell so much anymore. But of course any sign of firm, straight-forward "speech" is interpreted as yelling to my teenage boys. Geez!!! Don't they remember that crazed mother they USED to have???
Toni, I don't think I've ever commented on your blog before. I'm a friend of BooMama's (not a bloggy friend, a college friend...I don't do the blog thing). Anyhoo, she loves your blog, so that means I love your blog (and I do).
This post so spoke to me that I am actually fighting back tears. I have been struggling with the guilt over my temper and ridiculous over-reactive nature. I cringe to think that my 6-yr-old and 3-yr-old are learning these traits from me. But, I soooo get the "crawls. all. over. me." part.
Glad to know I'm not alone; I am livng on the "The Frazzled Edge," as Clementine put it.
I am right there in that EXACT situation. I first realized I yelled way too much when I brought home baby number four and was nursing him...I heard commotion coming from another room, children #1 & #2 were tormenting eachother.
After several failed attempts at, "Guys, knock it off please...guys, stop fighting...guys, you need to work it out nicely." I kicked it up a knotch to "STOP FIGHTING RIGHT NOW!" To which the sleeping baby in my arms didn't even flinch.
I was brought to tears because I knew that it reflected just how much I must "raise my voice". He didn't even care.
Thanks for validating my struggle and sharing your honesty that some moms just aren't able to control their kids with soft whispers and smiles.
I love the new picture of you :)
I'm re-reading this one today--I should read it everyday!
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