I rocked my 7-year-old boy in my arms, his long body hanging off mine, flowing onto the white down comforter and the well-worn green flannel sheets that wrapped the mattress of my own childhood bed. How can he be so big? It’s not fair that I can’t curl him into me anymore. I sat and held him while he sobbed. I felt the release of his cares and his worry–his constant awareness of the expectations he can never seem to meet. Our expectations.
“The little boys take a lot of work, don’t they?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
“It’s crazy in this house. So busy. I’m just so tired, Jamis. But I want to spend more time with you, okay? I want to make time for you and me to do the things you want to do. To play games. To…” His shoulders shook as I spoke these words. His body giving way inch-by-inch. This is your moment, Sarah, a moment you need to wrap your whole heart around and give to your sweet, loving boy.
“Let’s have family game night every week, okay? You can stay up late and Daddy and me will play with you,” I paused at each nod of his head. I continued reaching for ideas of ways I could show my son–instead of relying on always telling him–that I love him just as much as his brothers. Because I know he can’t see it; he doesn’t feel it. I spend so much time dressing and bathing and teaching the little boys. I expect Jamis to take care of himself. But he’s seven. Seven. He so very much needs me and I am so very much lost to him. His tears wash over me a feeling of dread for the time that’s been lost between us while I’ve carried and birthed his two brothers.
“Do you have anything that you want to tell me?” I ask.
He stands, and takes a step back. One hand is on my arm and the other is reaching up to brush the hair away from my face.
“I wish there wasn’t so much yelling.”
And there it is. A truth. There is too much yelling. Too little time for smooth explanations and too little patience when things go awry. When things don’t go the way I need them to, or think that they should.
“I don’t like it when you yell at me, and I don’t like it when you yell at the little boys, either. I don’t like it when people get in trouble.” And my heart melts. And all I can say is:
“You’re right. There’s too much yelling. And I am going to stop that, okay?”
And I meant it.
We snuggled up together and chatted some more. Jamis told me some other things he would like to work on–like giving him suggestions when I tell him to “go find something to do” instead of flailing around the living room and instigating another wrestling match with the little boys.
And then we cracked Shel Silverstein and read each other silly poems. It was sweetness. It was my moment–with my kid. It was ours.
The next morning I alerted my husband about the No-Yelling Policy for the remainder of the week. He looked straight at me and said, “Okay, how the hell are we going to do that?”
Yeah, how? Well, I’ve been more conscious of me and less conscious of them. Oddly, it seems to have helped. More focus on myself has equated to more positive focus on the kids. And I don’t mean I’m pampering myself or even spending time doing anything for me, I only mean that I think about my own mental and emotional state before I fly off the handle at the next blood-boiling thing that they’ve done. And trust me, there’s so many of those that one example is just pointless.
While generally my husband is wonderful with getting on board with a new “parenting decision,” I thought this one would be a little tricky. And I was right. In the middle of his rant during bedtime tonight, I turned to my husband and said “No Yelling” in a kind of sing-song voice. I knew it wouldn’t go over well. In fact, I assumed he’d storm out of the bedroom and back to his office. But he took a breath and calmed his nerves. The energy that he’d sucked out of the room just moments earlier during his fury was restored, and he tumbled to the ground with the little boys and made a fort under the covers.
Giggling and happiness resumed, I smiled and shut the door behind me. My heart was calm as I walked across the hall to Jamis’s room for a goodnight kiss. While I would love to give this story a happy ending, the truth is that I found Jamis crying into his pillow because he didn’t know what to do. I suggested reading or cards or listening to music, but nothing was good enough; he didn’t bite. It was 12 minutes until lights out and I was just done–ready for a glass of wine and a good book. But I didn’t yell or even get upset. I quietly clicked the door behind me with the knowledge that tomorrow is here too quickly. My sweet boy will sleep soundly and things will begin anew.
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{ 24 comments… read them below or add one }
It is so hard to stick to new parenting resolutions! In our house, it’s not because we don’t want to but because we kind of forget what we said or decided and then, because we’re aging rapidly and our kids apparently aren’t, we get mixed up between the new decision and the last ten we made. I think, ultimately, that I’m not smart enough or organized enough to be excellent at this.
But here’s what I love, Sarah – you thought Jamis wanted more time for himself with you and what he did instead was advocate for himself as the leader of the boys. That is really something!
Twitter: barmitzvahzilla
Thanks for this, Linda. That first paragraph is just absolutely perfect. We make these resolutions and get all fired up and things go well for a few days and then boom! we are right back where we started because we freaking forgot what the heck it was we were supposed to be doing because GUESS WHAT? life is too chaotic to keep your head straight. I totally cannot strive for excellence, ya know? Just doing excellent stuff every once in a while.
You are right, Jamis is the leader–and not just by default, he is a good, sweet, protector of a brother.
Twitter: Momalom
Damn these smart, sensitive, too-grown-up boys. I feel like you just described Javi. He said to me earlier this week that I scare him because I get so upset and either refuse to speak to him or yell at him or do something (throw the shoes, rip the paper, pop the balloon) to his things that scares him.
In my “rational” thought, I have to do SOMETHING that shocks him out of that mode — you know the mode I mean — because just asking him nicely to stop doesn’t work. Sending him to do something else doesn’t work. Explaining that you can’t win an argument with a 2-year-old doesn’t work. So I scream or I just pop the damn balloon he keeps holding out of her reach.
So I promised, no more out-of-control mom. And I’ve stuck to it, though I did have to say, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t raise my voice at you. I said I would maintain my control. There’s a difference.” We’re 5 days down, a million more to go.
Twitter: millermix
I absolutely adore that you were clear about yelling vs. maintaining control. It made me smile to read that line because yeah, sometimes it takes a bit of yelling to make a point. I won’t pretend even for a second that my No-Yelling Zone will last any longer than this weekend. But, I’m hoping that in making a conscious effort to deal with all problems in a calm and quiet manner for one week, it will impact my decision to become that crazy, yelling mom for many weeks.
Twitter: Momalom
I love you.
And I’m just sayin’, you need to perfect the Art of the Hiss in the Ear. Just as scary as yelling and not as hard on the ears :)
Working on it, Mama. Working on it! However, I think it freaks out the girls a little more than the boys. Girls shrink, boys just seem to get pissed off at it and then MORE rowdy.
You’d be proud though. I haven’t raised my voice ALLL morning. And yeah, I know it’s only 9:08 am, but that’s something I tell you. That’s something!
Twitter: Momalom
now this… this was a beautiful read.
Twitter: mybottlesup
Thanks, Nic. Muah!
Twitter: Momalom
This hit home today. After spending the morning talking to other moms about parenting I came home and ranted about cleaning up and it turned into me yelling. Then I feel so down and terrible and ask myself why I let it get that way…why didn’t I walk out of the room and breathe.
I try to always ask myself “how would i feel if someone talked to me the way I am about to talk to my kiddos” I would be a wreck if someone talked loudly or yelled at me.
It takes a lot of self-control and good for you for recognizing that it starts with taking time to think about your emotions or mental state.
He is lucky to have such a wonderful mom! Love your blog!
Thanks, darlin’! This week was progress; next week I could easily fall back to old modes of reaction. I hope not. I hope I look back on this post and realize that it doesn’t have to be so LOUD around here. Well, that at least I don’t have to contribute to the loud as much. Can’t stop the kids from yelling as well as I can stop myself.
Thank you so much for popping over again! We are always happy to have fresh eyes and strong voices like your own!
Twitter: Momalom
Well hey, thanks for making me cry! No, no, it’s my own fault. I yell WAY too much, I expect too much, of my oldest especially. This really hits home and reminds me to think of why I’m reacting instead of just freaking out in a fit of exhaustion and frustration. It’s not their fault I have three kids and a business and a house to deal with and I stay up way too late cherishing the few moments of quiet I can find in a day. Yep, definitely need to work on the yelling.
I’m completely guilty of staying up too late as well. I DO so cherish the hours and minutes after the kids are asleep. And I’m never ready for tomorrow to begin. So I stay up, up, up every night and regret it every morning. Let’s just say that the resulting tiredness does nothing to add to my patience levels with the kids. And the conclusion: an earlier bedtime would definitely aid my new No-Yelling policy. I need a little discipline here!
Twitter: Momalom
Ah. I know. I worry that I have pushed my responsible, dependable, compliant, almost-6-and-a-half-year-old to more independence or big-kidness than he needs to embrace. I worry that my lap is too full with littles to make space for him too often. But you’re right about little things here and there – staying up later to play Go Fish, coming along with mom or dad on a special errand or something. I don’t know. I struggle with it, too.
Good luck with the no yelling. I know it’s hard. Things get loud and frustrating, and so often they don’t respond when we talk in voices that are trying their damnedest to be calm. I know I’ve lost the battle when I end the day with a sore throat.
We’ll work on it together. Accountability and inspiration go a long way.
Twitter: claritychaos
“Accountability and inspiration go a long way.”
This is perfect. Thank you.
Every word you wrote could have been my own. “Lap too full with littles” and the 6 year old being pushed into more responsibility than he cares for.
Sometimes I feel like I’m swimming along just find, and other times I see the ship sinking and I’m busy, busy trying to find a way to rise to the surface again. Quieting my voice has so far been a delight, a relief of sorts. But the weekend is in full boy swing right now and it’s pushing all the wrong buttons. (Boys are “hiding” under a huge blanket they took off my bed and dragged to the living room. The wrestling has started and the dog is attacking. Cue screams and shrieks and crying.)
Twitter: Momalom
Your conversation with Jamis had me in tears. I think you know (via our tweets…) that Fynn tells me “I’m sorry you yelled at me, mommy” after I yell. It gets me every time. It’s so so hard to not yell. To take that step back and breathe, to just… be.
I give you guys so much credit for trying. We’re doing the same… Good luck!
Twitter: crnnoel
Corinne,
It’s just the worst when your own kids call attention to the yelling, isn’t it? Not their own, of course–that would be too good to be true–but yours. My heart sinks a little when Jamis tells me about these things I do that bother him. And yet, I am ecstatic that my big-little boy has the courage, comfort and words to express himself to me. I do feel like I can at least give myself a pat on the back for that one!
Twitter: Momalom
Sarah, I started reading this and realized my husband needed to see it to. So we sat down and read it together. Then we thought. We thought and discussed. Now we are making plans on how we can thwart the negativity in our own household.
I have made a resolution to not ignore my little girl as much, or become as exasperated when she gets into something. While there are days when I realized I sucked, I also have days that I am proud of.
“I quietly clicked the door behind me with the knowledge that tomorrow is here too quickly. My sweet boy will sleep soundly and things will begin anew.”
Yes. The perfect ending to a mommy moment we all know too well.
Twitter: ambrosiat
Oh Amber, I absolutely adore that you asked Mr. B. to read this too. Please tell him I think he’s an excellent man for supporting your blog and your words and even the words of a fellow blogger. You two are in this together and if I have learned anything at all it’s that communication is the backbone to the health and wealth of not only a marriage, but an entire family.
As usual, I find you incredibly self-aware–knowing there are good days and there are bad days and that’s okay. And by continuing to ponder this, and continuing to seek new methods and mindsets, you two are well on your way to establishing great routines as parents that will carry you through even the worst of times.
Twitter: Momalom
Personally I find that when I’m trying to make time for me, or focus on me and my needs, my kids get ME at my worst. It’s hard for me to make that separation sometimes. Letting go of myself for them. But then one of them will sit on my lap and say something like Jamis did. And in that instant I want to change. They have such powerful words.
Twitter: badmommymoments
So there it is, right? You try to do something, SOME THING, ONE THING, that you want to do and it takes you away from your kids, and then you pay. In some way you feel like you always pay. It’s the patience and the frustration that I lose. But I have realized that I lose it all when I am trying to fit MY thing into THEIR time. And also? I have lowered my expectations (for all of us) considerably. It seems to help (even as frustrating as it is that I can barely expect us to get dressed some days…).
I know that I will have ME time after the kids are asleep every night. And sometimes that is all I can expect to get. I know that I have to get out of the house and away from the kids to expect any more than that. And if I try to do my own thing while they are around, I have to assume that I will get interrupted fifty times and thus be annoyed.
This is not to say that I don’t still try to do my own thing when they are underfoot. I do. Most certainly. But I DO get interrupted, and I DO get pissed off, and I am TRYING my darnedest to let that go and remember that I am the Mom, they are the Kids, and they NEED me.
I could go on…but, well, you know…
Twitter: Momalom
Ahh, Sarah, this resonates so much for me today. I spend so much time asking and expecting Big Boy to be Big. And you know what? He’s two. So needy for hugs and love and praise. Not able to be patient while I take care of the baby.
I am also so grateful for your discussion of focusing on yourself. So often when talk steers in this direction, it’s all about pampering or just time away. But you are so right: focusing on our emotions and our reactions is critical to supporting our children. Such a wonderful reminder.
Twitter: Motherese
It’s hard to know what we can expect of our oldest and what needs to pay attention to. The simple things–like getting clothes and shoes on and brushing teeth–I don’t have much patience for overseeing. If a child is old enough, that child should just DO IT, right? But it’s the emotional needs that tend to get lost in the shuffle. Especially with boys, and especially with the oldest boy.
That said, your Big Boy is only a wee little thing. And with the close age difference between your guys I think you may see that you’ll encounter much of these parenting dilemmas at the same time for both of them. I think it makes it a little easier. At least, that’s what I’m hoping as the little boys (15 months apart) grow up and into “their own.”
Twitter: Momalom
Oh Sarah. I can only imagine three little boys. I remember these days with just two boys, only 18 months apart, and the unending tasks and squabbles to break up, the need for projects and homework help and idea generation and then everything the house and the “job job” required. Too much to do, too little time, incredible drain. And yelling spills out, even though you know there’s a better way.
I learned over the years – and my sons reminded me, even as teens – to reduce the yelling. It was fueled by fatigue and frustration, and so I learned to take that all-important breath. Those two or three seconds, and it really does work. Not always. But more often than not.
Life is a roller coaster and sometimes we yell. At least our children love us and trust our love sufficiently to tell us what they need. And we cherish them enough not only to listen, but to do our best to act on it.
Twitter: BigLittleWolf
Yes! After I told Jamis that I would slow down with the yelling he looked at me kind of stumped. With an expression that said the very words my husband had uttered the next day: “How in the hell are we going to do THAT?” So I told him when I felt the need to yell I was going to step away into the other room for a brief moment and take a big, deep breath. It’s something we have always asked him to do under frustration since he was a toddler, so I do believe he understood. And yes, I have practiced it and it does make a difference.
A single breath. A deep, cleansing, re-focusing breath.
It still amazes me that the air I breathe can renew so much if only I am conscious of it.
Twitter: Momalom