There is so much fighting in this house that it makes me want to scream. No. It does make me scream. And then I’m only adding to the mess. Heightening it, actually. How are the children to learn self-discipline and composure when I’m flying off the handle? How are they to learn patience with sharing and learning when my husband has so little patience with them?
It’s the same conundrum so many mothers face: I’m yelling at my kids to stop yelling. Oh the irony. The painful, not so simple, irony. And it just doesn’t seem to quit. No matter what I do or say. No matter what approach. No matter how calm I am or how suddenly ferocious. How sweetly I try to coax my children toward good behaviors or with what I choose to threaten them.
And I’m exhausted. Just exhausted by it.
It is day in, day out. Minute by minute around here. With three boys the fighting is always–ALL.WAYS–physical. Feet pummel chests, heads butt backs and chins and shins, teeth sink in to flesh and reach for clumps of hair. And more and more quickly I reach the point of feeling that I just can’t handle it for another minute, another second.
But I do. I have no choice. It is my life. These are my boys. The fighting will go on–in waves–and we will all survive. It is what we do. As children. As mothers with children. With three boys.
But oh the days are long when we are home. When the house longs to be quiet but the children keep it awake. When my mind longs to be quiet, to be held by a book, or by my own hands even. In a careful, comfortable pose. Not so very much in the rubbing-my-temples and clenching my jaw composure I have taken to the last two days.
The fighting. Five of us. I just can’t figure it out. How to stop. If it will stop. How much to let go, how hard to hold on. To an ideal. A dream. Of peace.
This is my life. And don’t get me wrong, there is an overwhelming amount of love and joy and suspended magic in so much of it. But there is fighting. The children literally draw blood. Mine and their own and each others’–their brothers’. It causes me grief. And, I fear, a certain amount of unhealthy stress.
I think that these words have convinced me of three things. 1) The new puppy, while adding a certain amount of potty-training stress to my life, will certainly help to shift some focus around here as she grows up and demands more of their attention and stops sleeping like 18 hours a day. 2) My peace of mind is totally worth $29.99 and I will be stopping by BJs tomorrow to retrieve a second Buzz Lightyear because if I have to listen to the tantrums shift between Max and Ethan over who gets to play with the darn plastic Star Commander anymore I swear I will engage my own laser beams and shoot them both down. 3) That 15 foot trampoline that my mother and brother got for the kids? Yup, it’s going up sooner rather than later. 50, 40 or 20 degrees, by gosh, by golly these children need to bounce out some of their energy on that contraption instead of bouncing into one another in my living room.
Hmm. Resolve is good. Now if only I could figure out how to send all four boys away for a weekend and grant my house some quiet and stillness and serenity. And grant myself the time to sit–uninterrupted–when the sun is just waking and the coffee’s still hot.
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Oh Sarah, I’m so sorry but I could not help laughing at your predicament as it is exactly the same as mine.
If only!!! If only we could escape once a month and have complete and utter quite time to ourselves.
I feel your pain and know what it is like to feel torn and guilty from wanting the peace that we so deserve.
Take comfort in knowing that you are not alone!
Laughter is good. Because it is funny, in a horrible sort of way. Some days I embrace it and others I’m just exhausted by it.
One day a month to myself, in my house, would be bliss. And I think I need to find a way to make it happen. The Daddy of this family needs a destination for an entire day with the kids. Nearly impossible what with winter, and nap times, and and and…
I know that someday TOO soon I will be sad that these days are gone, so I really try to make the most of it. But I feel like the pressure is too great and I am always failing myself with that. I am assigning myself and optimistic topic for my next post. The New Year deserves a lift of heart and spirit, dontcha think?
:)
Three.Boys.
Sigh.
We have a word for it in our house: Noise Pollution. Even in happy times, the volume at our house is full-throttle. I cannot stand it and all I want is some quiet and dammit, I never get it.
And the trampoline we bought 2 years ago? Priceless. Except ours is currently buried under snow.
Yes. What DO you do about the snow? It’s cold as the Kitch’s tit here and I can’t imagine hiking through the now-muddy, mostly melted yard to assemble the trampoline, but Oh How Great It Could Be on a somewhat decent day. If only for a 20 minute romp. These boys need it! NEED it! And their mama does too!
Noise Pollution. Yes. Accompanied by Reckless Body Syndrome. Yiah!
I am so sorry for all the fighting. Fighting over toys, fighting over who gets a pink bowl or the orange spoon or who gets to close the door, or open the door, or put the item in the garbage can.
It’s so hard. I am going through the same thing at my house and honestly, at times, I just feel broken. Overwhelmed. Distressed. Disappointed. I keep trying to remind myself that it will get better, but I just feel like I am drowning at times.
They are the most frustrating yet endearing individuals I’ve ever met, my three. I wish there were three of me.
Yes. Three of me. One for each of them. Sometimes I think this, too. Other times I want to melt into the carpet, or the putty-colored walls, or my brown leather chair I don’t so often enough get to take refuge in.
It WILL get better, it DOES get better, I already know this. And the hardest days for me are the ones that I envision an ideal. To hell with those. They will not be. Sigh sigh sigh.
But I still want a small piece of quiet space alone. This one idea I just cannot let go of. Perhaps in the new decade, yeah?
I feel your pain. We have the fighting to a degree, but our son is generally not that tough with his sister. But they can’t keep their hands to themselves — and the 5yo and 3yo can’t seem to give their 1yo baby sister ANY space. The poor thing is being man handled all waking hours. It’s just gets so tiring to remind them to “leave her alone” or “give her some space” or “get your hands away from her face”.
So happy to see you here my RTB friend.
No, they can’t keep their hands to themselves at ALL, can they? It’s just so exhausting. And we lose patience. Too quickly we lose patience. I actually feel badly about losing my patience, but I feel worse about the fact that all they want to do is fight…with me, with their dad, with each other. In playful ways, in not-so-playful ways. I’m downright exasperated.
I had to declare the dog off limits to the fighting this morning for my middle child. Bopping her on the head is just second nature when he’s annoyed with her. The poor little baby pup. Boys are just physical and I just have to get used to it but GAH! it’s damn difficult I tell you.
I mean really…why can’t we all just get along? :)
Oh Sarah… it sounds like our place, only I’m sure yours is a little louder since we’ve only got the two. Today was the first day in a looooong time where I wasn’t yelling to stop the yelling. The only reason? We got outside. I swear that’s the key. So build that trampoline, lady! At least outside their yells don’t seem quite so loud…
I hear you. We MUST get outside. But what is the deal with the howling wind and the icy cold temperature? I am starting to see why so many people bitch about winter. It wouldn’t be so horrible if there weren’t kids around whining and crying and fighting! But there are. And I must find ways to combat it. So I will muster the energy and at least take them to the pool. That’s a sure-fire way to tire us ALL out!
We had to do the same thing with Buzz lightyear. I nanny and I was just FED UP with the fight over buzz and it has only been 3 days. Of the 109309245023 toys they got THAT ONE is THE TOY. UGH! It drives me nuts. I break. I scream. They cry. Today I cried. I am so sick of fighting and just like you said, it is life. I have to take tomorrow for the new day that it is. Just know, I’ll be right there, somewhere in a different state, freaking out too…probably right around 5:30 =)
“I have to take tomorrow for the new day that it is.”
I love this. It is what I tell myself every night, when kids are screeching for dinner at 4:59 pm. And it is what I tell myself each morning upon waking. Today is a new day. Most days I even drive to work belting out songs at the top of my lungs, in all kinds of a decent mood. If I can only figure out how to sustain that when the bad moments want so badly to get the best of me.
Ah, the fighting. Mine are six years apart and yet the fighting is as loud and incessant as those born back-to-back. What’s really crazy is my tolerance level for the noise pollution is so much higher than other people’s. I can be remarkably productive in the midst of screaming and clanging and crashing … on good days. This is one of the many reasons Moms should get paid more. :)
Hmm, productive in the midst of screaming…Can I borrow that gene? I like to think we are pretty productive around my house–my husband and I taking on projects that involve painting, organizing, cleaning, etc. But they don’t come without a whole lot of aggravation. To work in peace–even to clean in peace–would just be bliss.
But I’ll stop. I can’t think like this. I must move on. Because, like Nicki says below, it doesn’t end. Sigh.
I hate to tell you but I don’t know that it ends. I have noticed, since #1 moved back in, the fighting has begun to happen again in my house. I was even reminded recently, by a visitor to the house, that I was trying to control a full-grown adult.
I swear the most common thing out of my mouth lately is “ENOUGH!!!”
Yes, “ENOUGH!” It comes out my mouth so often and I kind of chuckle inside because it’s not as though the one and two year olds even understand what I am saying. Nor does my exhaustion or anger even affect them. They just keep going with whatever it is they are doing. And I inevitably just throw up my hands and move on to some other mess because the mess of their fighting and tantrums is something I know deep down I cannot change.
As an aside, I always look forward to your comments knowing you have been down my road with six kids of your own. Your perspective is valued, my friend. And your honesty as well. I find it easier to hear that though it may get better in some ways as they get older, it ultimately does not change and I should not expect miracles. It helps me to know that I am not seriously messing up in some way. :)
I loooooooove this post. I’ve felt this way so often in the past few weeks…with the excitement of school parties, playdates, snow, and Christmas coming, my children HAVE DRIVEN ME TO THE BRINK with their fighting, yelling, whining, fighting, yelling, whining. But it will pass and I try to remember that in ten or fifteen years, I’ll miss the yelling, fighting, whining because they will be off living their lives somewhere. But I tend to forget this in the moment. Especially when I look at the clock on the stove and it is only 9:30 in the morning and I’ve already brokered three peace negotiations and issued one threat. Your post makes me know I’m not alone. Thanks:)
Rebecca – I think the government can use you – three peace negotiations by 9:30 am. That is something to be proud of!
Rebecca,
You are so far from alone. And feeling these commonalities is why I choose to write here in this place. In public. About motherhood and life as I know it.
It is exhausting: being on the brink. And I am there far too often. And there are so many days like today when I’m teetering on the edge of guilt and pleasure at escaping the fighting, yelling, whining, fighting, yelling, whining and coming to work.
And on Saturday mornings when you look at the clock on the stove and it’s only 9:30, just know I’m doing the SAME EXACT THING. Stove clock oh how I hate thee!
three things here:
1. way to throw your hubby under the bus in first paragraph!
2. at least you took your own self down with him in the sentence before.
3. you are frightening the hell out of me. is this what i’m to expect 8 years from now? constant fighting? b/c right now we have constant fussing (oh, and a NASTY stomach bug that’s making its rounds through my family like the ever-annoying “wave” circling the stadium during THE most crucial play of the game). and i gotta tell ya, since we’re venting and all, i preached a bunch focus on the Goodness bullshit in a lot of my December posts, and while i meant it? Christmas brought me to my KNEES. and i wasn’t praying. well, check that. i was often praying for the fussing to stop.
all that said, had a great Christmas, and hope you did, too! by the way, remember the mirilax suggestion you gave me? my wife was SUPER hesitant b/c i got it from “Llama Mom, some chick on the internet” (she’s not down w/ the whole cyber community). the problem persisted. and persisted. and persisted. she finally broke down and tried it.
we’re good to go. i knew you were a smart one, Llama Mom. (and thank you! for real!) God bless, my friend. Happy New Year!
As a mother of three boys myself, I hear you. I often say they fight as well as they play. And what is it about getting them outside? Tearing down those boundaries and those walls that bounce the echoes right back at us.
Ugh. Just imagine when they’re bigger. The wrestling, punching, all of it…I need to take it day by day or I’ll freak out.
I’m late in this comment party but couldn’t miss out because I’m with you. Right there next to you on this. I recently tweeted “Does screaming ‘stop screaming!!!’ lose its effectiveness when screamed?” I feel like I scream all day long. If not at someone then inside my head. I’m so tired of feeling frustrated and worn out and like NO ONE hears me. And then I wonder why Hannah screams at Luke. And why Luke screams instead of talking. I never was a screamer. I never wanted to be a yeller. But it’s all I can do on some days.
But do you know what I hate more? Bickering. I detest bickering. The quick back and forth of anger that never resolves anything and just leaves me incredibly annoyed. I don’t scream at Tim in front of the kids but the bickering… it’s worse.
But there are the quieter days. The ones that I get through without a sore throat and bitterness inside my head. The days when we just all get along. And I remember why I love everyone so much. And i realize it’s possible to do this job without screaming!
I hope you’ve been jumping a lot in the freezing cold on your trampoline! I’m thinking of getting an indoor mini version… although it would probably just be one more thing for the kids to scream about.
my sister has been an Early Childhood Educator for 15 years. some of the tricks she has shown me are priceless. this is my absolute favorite: in our house, yelling is strictly an outdoor activity. if there is yelling in the house, the offender is taken by the hand by a grown up and ushered outside immediately. no shoes, no coat. the rationale is that if the kid needs to yell that badly, we need to get outside as fast as we can. the only downside is that usually the adult is me and i usually only grab my own shoes, so i’m outside encouraging my kid to yell his head off while i freeze my butt off too. however, it works. the need to yell is seriously decreased when the only place you can do it is outside in -20 weather. this is a lesson kids will learn in 30 seconds or less if it’s winter.
I know I’m late on commenting here, Sarah, but I want to thank you for this post and for the honesty in it. I feel like I felt when I finally told someone about my postpartum depression – relieved to find out someone else feels like me! I’ve been a parent for 14 1/2 years and I thought yelling was my family’s big, dark secret, which sounds kind of dumb now that I’m thinking about it. Thanks for reminding me that I’m not alone.