Stop Yelling
When I was a kid, I always vowed that I would never yell like my mother did. My mother could yell. And she would sometimes lose it completely and say the things that many of us have thought at some point in the heat of the moment, like, “I only had kids so they could do the housework!” I did learn one thing from Mom’s yelling, which is never to say those things out loud because your kids will remember them forever.
So I have no idea how I got from a vow of always speaking in calm and encouraging tones, to an exact clone of my mother, yelling in the driveway at 8 a.m., and considering pulling out a clump of my own hair to strangle someone with. This morning was a perfect example…first day back after Christmas vacation, a new year, a new beginning, Yeah, right.
~ Alarm rings, kids whine, I pry them out of bed and send them toward their clothes. Level 0 on the Anger-Meter. Not bad!
~ Tell each kid 52 times to put on a particular article of clothing. Level 1.
~ Adlani throws a fit because he doesn’t want to wear the sweater that he is already wearing. Smacks towel rack in bathroom, which makes a very satisfying bang (I’ll have to remember that for my next outburst). Level 2.
~ Finally make it downstairs for breakfast and Aliya is laying in front of the fireplace with the dog instead of fixing her snack or eating breakfast. Level 3.
~ Breakfast and all that it entails. Level 4.
~ Playing with kittens instead of eating. Level 5.
~ Playing with kittens instead of putting on coats. Level 6.
~ Adlani missing one (brand new) boot, AND insists on sitting right in the only path from kitchen to front door. Level 7.
~ Brush Norah’s hair after no conditioner was used by last night’s bath overseer. Level 8.
~ Still no coats. Already 5 minutes late. I have a chiropractor appointment at 9:30 and a meeting at 10. Missing the bus is not an option. Level 9.
~ Herd everyone to the driveway with backpacks, freshly-washed nap blankets, complete cold-weather gear (each piece labeled), snacks, assorted forms…open car door…one booster seat is missing.
To make matters worse, some of my tactics are no longer working. Before vacation I had a similar morning situation and when we were finally on our way I started in on the uber-emotional “WHY CAN’T YOU GUYS JUST DO ONE LITTLE THING I ASK YOU TO DO?!?!” complete with faux sniffling (call me a faker but I have to get my point across somehow), and Norah piped up from the back seat, “Sometimes Daddy calls you a crybaby.” Nice.
Just a day or two later I used the Deep Breath & 10-Count technique during breakfast (in hopes that they would think, “We’d better stop or she’s going to lose it.”) and Norah innocently asked, “What? Your breath smells really really bad?”
In 2010, I’m all about making necessary changes, and our morning routine is in obvious need of an overhaul. Tomorrow morning we will be trying Change #1 – get up 1/2 hour earlier, along with Lana’s suggestion of setting the timer to indicate when to put on coats, rather than saying it 142 times. If that doesn’t work I’m asking my doctor for meds.
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