One of the biggest wake up calls, and ultimately the trigger to asking for help, was my kids. One would cry, one would cringe, all because my insane need to release meant I was always yelling. Always. And not good stuff. Not even borderline stuff. I was mean. I AM mean. I don’t like it, but I’m not the mom I should be. That I was.
Today I challenged myself not to Yell at all. I didn’t make it through the morning. But I was aware and reaffirmed te challenge and forced myself to remember that my kids are just kids and maybe I’m expecting too much of them. Don’t get me wrong, we are hard on our kids, in that we hold them to standards of behavior we know they can achieve because they’ve done it, and when they slip we let them know-through discipline and coaching and positive reinforcement. But as of late I’ve taken to screaming-because a toddler isn’t moving fast enough or the kindergartener is being defiant.
I forget that these are all moments for them to learn. That in driving me bananas they learn things I couldn’t possibly teach them.
And sometimes a tired two year old just isn’t going to walk anywhere. So I shouldn’t expect it, and I should pick her up and cuddle and carry her. Soon she’ll be too big for it.
So today, after resolving to hold more and yell less I think I did ok. The day isn’t over yet, but its been a good morning of effort. I can at least smile about that.
And when that tired two year old falls asleep in the car, I park in the driveway and drink my coffee-like right now-and listen to her little breaths, and her wee snore, and look at those mile long lashes, and see why I’m trying so hard. Who could give up when this beautiful baby girl is the reason for living?
17 Oct
Mum's the word 