When I was little, I absolutely hated to be yelled at. It was the worst. I always cried. I couldn't help it. Both of my parents were yellers, moreso my father. So you would think that now, as a mother, I wouldn't be a big yeller. I wish that were true.
Somedays it feels like my only interaction with these two is me yelling at them.
I try not to. I give them warnings, such as, "Mom's about to yell" or "If you don't stop, I'm going to yell". Being the precocious little angels that they are, most of the time, they don't stop doing whatever it was they were doing that caused the warning to be issued. So, I yell.
And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for it when I'm doing it, and I hate myself for it after I'm done. And yet, I keep doing it. And sometimes, I feel better. I am ashamed to admit that. Rarely do I feel better. But sometimes, when they have been mean little biznatches all day long, I have a freak-out. Every once in awhile, it catches their attention. They behave for the rest of the day. Most of the time, though, they just look at me.
My older one, T, I can tell, does not like to be yelled at. I don't blame her. I hated it, too. Her thing is, she gets defensive and even more ill-behaved. I guess she is thinking, "I'll show her she didn't hurt me. I'll be even meaner than I was before!"
She is famous for running to her room and slamming the door. Moments later, I hear the door open.
"Mom, you better come in here and have a talk with me!"
This is her way of telling me that it is time for me to go in her room, say I'm sorry, and calmly discuss whatever issue we all were yelling about a minute before.
I don't want these girls to look back and think, "Mom yelled a lot. Bitch." I want them to look back and remember all of the fun things we do together.
I guess I can add to my ever-growing list of New Year's resolutions: Throttle back on the yelling.
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3 comments:
Parenting just ain't for sissies.
Admitting to wrong actions and apologizing goes a long way to teach them that they need to do the same.
Oh man! My mom was a yeller. She started every yelling fit with "G@DDAMMIT" followed by whatever was appropriate for that minute. I swore I wouldn't be a yeller. I've yelled. I HATE it when it happens. Now I try really, REALLY hard not to yell and when my temper starts to flare (like we have 20 minutes before we have to be out of the house and nobody is dressed and Wynnie is acting like a ninny), I announce "Mommy is getting very frustrated and I need you to follow instruction before I have to raise my voice." For me, it's that talking and adding lots of words that gives me a few seconds to calm myself down. And I'm not above putting her in time out before she even gets to school in the morning. I have had to adhere to a strict "This is your last warning" policy and then she's in time out... crying and not getting dressed. I've learned to start getting dressed 30 minutes earlier than I used to....so there is time for all unforeseen detours.
Eh, what are you going to do? Motherhood is stressful. You're not beating them or calling them names that systematically erode all feelings of worthiness and self-esteem, right? [Hmm, my standards of motherhood may need to be re-examined within the next month.]
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