The Thing Every Mom Does But Doesn't Want to Admit It, I yell at my kids.
It's an admission few moms will make, but late at night, over wine and dinner and endless conversations, most moms will cop to having done it. Once. Twice. Fifty times. The fact is, in the thick of parental drama -- finding shoes, doing homework, quelling endless sibling arguments -- sometimes our voices do rise. Sometimes we can help it. Most of the time we can't.
For me, it was easy to avoid yelling for about the first 2.5 years of my babies' lives. Babies, with their squishy faces, and inability to process simple thought, are difficult to get mad at. But once that baby turns 3 or so, when they start to purposely defy you? All bets are off. Yes, I yell at my kids. No, I am not sorry.
My children are now 8, 6 and 1, and while the youngest is off the hook, I regularly lose it on the two older ones. They just know how to push all my buttons. And while I am not proud of it and I have read all the studies that say how bad it is, I also have no plans to stop any time soon. My own mother yelled at me and I survived. I have no long-term damage.
The truth is, yelling is a sign we have lost control. But it's better than a lot of other things. I don't hit my children. I don't swear at them. I don't dole out meaningless, inconsistent punishment. But I do yell. And I probably won't quit.
Recently, my husband and I were driving on vacation with our three children in the car and the weather and road conditions were particularly bad. The vacation had largely been wonderful, but this moment -- and a few others -- felt poorly planned. In short, we were stressed. And the 80 MPH winds whipping outside the camper weren't helping matters. In the back seat, our two oldest children were bickering (loudly) over who was better friends with a mutual friend back in New Jersey. For a while we listened. Until we couldn't stand it. And then we yelled. They'd been fighting all day. We yelled loud and good and long and it was cathartic for my husband whose fingers gripped the steering wheel a little looser after unleashing on the kids. I didn't feel any better about the road conditions or the wind. But they did stop screaming. And that was, after all, what we wanted in the first place.
Another time I tend to yell is on the way to school. Show me the parent who manages to get through a whole morning of breakfast, getting dressed, packing the backpacks, packing the lunches, putting on the shoes, finding the library books, filling the water bottles and getting to school on time without yelling and I will show you a person a lot calmer than most on the planet.
The problem is, yelling works. When I ask my children calmly to put on their shoes, they are leisurely about it. They loll about and challenge me. Yelling helps in that situation. And it's not that I don't have guilt. I do.
I often find myself crying along with my children after I've yelled. I have apologized and they know when I feel like I have crossed a line and really messed up. But they also hustle when I raise my voice. My slow poke kids are suddenly kicked into overdrive by the sound of my loud and large voice. It's an awful reality, but it is reality.
So what's a mom to do?
Let's take the pressure of the yelling. Let's forgive ourselves. Let's remind ourselves that we are doing the best we can and if that sometimes means we raise our voices, so be it.
My children have lucky lives full of love. They have parents who love one another, a house to grow and play in, plenty of food, nice clothing, a good education, camps in the summer and beautiful vacations. I don't think a raised voice here and there is going to destroy their childhood. So I'm okay with losing control. I forgive myself. And I know they forgive me, too.
It's an admission few moms will make, but late at night, over wine and dinner and endless conversations, most moms will cop to having done it. Once. Twice. Fifty times. The fact is, in the thick of parental drama -- finding shoes, doing homework, quelling endless sibling arguments -- sometimes our voices do rise. Sometimes we can help it. Most of the time we can't.
For me, it was easy to avoid yelling for about the first 2.5 years of my babies' lives. Babies, with their squishy faces, and inability to process simple thought, are difficult to get mad at. But once that baby turns 3 or so, when they start to purposely defy you? All bets are off. Yes, I yell at my kids. No, I am not sorry.
My children are now 8, 6 and 1, and while the youngest is off the hook, I regularly lose it on the two older ones. They just know how to push all my buttons. And while I am not proud of it and I have read all the studies that say how bad it is, I also have no plans to stop any time soon. My own mother yelled at me and I survived. I have no long-term damage.
The truth is, yelling is a sign we have lost control. But it's better than a lot of other things. I don't hit my children. I don't swear at them. I don't dole out meaningless, inconsistent punishment. But I do yell. And I probably won't quit.
Recently, my husband and I were driving on vacation with our three children in the car and the weather and road conditions were particularly bad. The vacation had largely been wonderful, but this moment -- and a few others -- felt poorly planned. In short, we were stressed. And the 80 MPH winds whipping outside the camper weren't helping matters. In the back seat, our two oldest children were bickering (loudly) over who was better friends with a mutual friend back in New Jersey. For a while we listened. Until we couldn't stand it. And then we yelled. They'd been fighting all day. We yelled loud and good and long and it was cathartic for my husband whose fingers gripped the steering wheel a little looser after unleashing on the kids. I didn't feel any better about the road conditions or the wind. But they did stop screaming. And that was, after all, what we wanted in the first place.
Another time I tend to yell is on the way to school. Show me the parent who manages to get through a whole morning of breakfast, getting dressed, packing the backpacks, packing the lunches, putting on the shoes, finding the library books, filling the water bottles and getting to school on time without yelling and I will show you a person a lot calmer than most on the planet.
The problem is, yelling works. When I ask my children calmly to put on their shoes, they are leisurely about it. They loll about and challenge me. Yelling helps in that situation. And it's not that I don't have guilt. I do.
I often find myself crying along with my children after I've yelled. I have apologized and they know when I feel like I have crossed a line and really messed up. But they also hustle when I raise my voice. My slow poke kids are suddenly kicked into overdrive by the sound of my loud and large voice. It's an awful reality, but it is reality.
So what's a mom to do?
Let's take the pressure of the yelling. Let's forgive ourselves. Let's remind ourselves that we are doing the best we can and if that sometimes means we raise our voices, so be it.
My children have lucky lives full of love. They have parents who love one another, a house to grow and play in, plenty of food, nice clothing, a good education, camps in the summer and beautiful vacations. I don't think a raised voice here and there is going to destroy their childhood. So I'm okay with losing control. I forgive myself. And I know they forgive me, too.
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