Get Out of Me Angry

Monday, August 19, 2013

A few weeks ago, I would have never admitted this publicly, but here it goes.  Sometimes, I get really angry when I'm home with the kids during the day.  Like a flash of red under my skin and I just snap - yelling and grabbing and forcefully moving kids to time-out.  When I'm not angry, it's nearly impossible to imagine what the kids do that make me that angry to behave like that, but then it happens and in a flash I lose my cool and act like the exact opposite of all that I hope to embody as a Mum.

The truth is - that both the kids take after me in their scale of emotions.  They, just like me, swing from extreme happiness to super-sensitive feelings-hurt, to blinding flashes of outrage.  Luckily, it is mostly extreme happiness during the day and then dips into the other ends of the spectrum.  Brandon is the complete opposite and has a very steady emotional scale that is cool and calm nearly always.  He very rarely swings to the deep ends of any emotion - unless it is an extreme situation (like there's been under 5 times in his life thus far).  Whereas the kids and I can swing to the deep ends multiple times A DAY.  B is the one that keeps us all grounded (xxoxo) and we help him experience the highs and lows of life with sweeping emotions.


So, back to the anger - I don't think I'm the only one (well, I know I'm not as I've been talking about this with some of my mom friends) and I've come to believe that its because the kids can't recognize when they're pushing me too far.  My sister (a non-mom) asked if I get that angry at Brandon and I replied definitely not, but that I think its because he (and most other adults) can see when your buttons are being pushed and they know when to back off before you explode.  Unfortunately, kids sort of have an inherent desire to push and push UNTIL you explode.

So I've been feeling awful about these outbursts and I want to get myself under control - but didn't really have an idea of how to help myself grab calmness in moments when I feel overcome with anger. And then I read an amazing piece in one of my favorite parenting books:  Buddhism for Mothers: A Calm Approach to Caring for Yourself and Your Children.  In a section on anger she writes,

So what can we do when anger takes hold of us?  It won't help to scold ourselves - to be angry with ourselves for feeling angry only adds fuel to the fire. Rather we need to stare at our anger with determination, to be with it until it changes form or dissipates.

I saw my exact behavior in the example she gave when she acted out in anger towards her own children.  I was reading it thinking - this is exactly me and if I can accept that anger comes to me but is never a permanent feeling (actually usually lasting only a few strong seconds) then I could stare it in the face until the feeling left me and then act with a more rational mind.

A little while after reading this, I told Greyson he needed to stop doing something (banging a bat off of the wall near his sister) and when he didn't listen to me, I told him he'd need to take a break.  Then I literally watched him go through the exact three same stages of anger that the book describes:

1. We perceive an object that we find unpleasant.
2. We exaggerate the perceived harm.
3.  We develop a wish to harm.  

Greyson perceived going into time-out/stopping banging as unpleasant.  Then he threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming (exaggerated) and then stood up and turned around to punch me in the thigh.  I stood there shocked that with this new found information - I could watch the anger process progress not only within myself but also exactly in my son's behavior.  Seriously, it was revolutionary for me.

Immediately, I scooped him up and stood him on the bed so we'd be eye to eye and I said to him.  See how you feel angry?  The angry is in your belly but you just wait for it to go away, you'll feel better.  Let's say it together, "Get out of me, Angry!"  Grey shook his head no that he didn't want to but a few minutes later he shouted, "Get out of me, Angry!" and started to cry and then asked to 'hold you.'

We've since adopted at our house the phrase, "Get out of me, Angry!"  For both the kids and I it has been amazingly helpful and a reminder that we can control ourselves when we feel overcome.  When I say it- its a check for the kids that Mum needs a break and that they are pushing too far.

It's ridiculous most of the time the things that bring anger to me.  The other day we were leaving the school track after running and riding bikes - all three of us were tired and hungry.  I had just had to figure out the correct configuration for the stroller and the bike to fit under the truck cover and traveled to both sides of the car to buckle two cranky children in their seats.  I finally got to my seat and was ready to pull out when Grey unbuckled himself.  Which in my stage2 'exaggeration of the unpleasantness' - I perceived the situation to be this huge pain in the A...I'd have to now unbuckle myself, travel to that side of the car, listen to Gem whine and scream why we aren't leaving yet, I was really ready to just get home, etc, etc.  I could feel my belly start to get warm and a yell about to come on, but instead I thought, 'get out of me, Angry,' and I sat and breathed.  In and out, in and out - just wait for it to wash away.  The anger started to leave and I could feel my thoughts start to clear again, "It's not like we have anywhere we need to be, you probably can reach his belt if you move your own seat back, you'll just need to remember to bring snacks on our bike trips, etc, etc.'  Me - 1, Angry - 0.

For Greyson, the phrase has been both helpful in him being able to recognize his own emotions and also a red flag to me that violence may be about to happen - many times towards his sister.  When I hear him give the warning - I have enough time to run to the two of them and congratulate Greyson on recognizing his own anger and also to remove Gemma from any imminent harm.



I wish I could report that our family is totally calm and patient with each other.  But we're not.  We're like every other family - we push each other too far, the kids fight - many times physically (Grey is a pusher, Gemma is a biter), and we lose our cool.  We certainly aren't a perfect family - and we don't even have a goal to be perfect.  We haven't removed all yelling from our family, nor have we been able to remove all of the kid-on-kid violence, but we are trying to be better.  

It's been very helpful to remind ourselves that anger is a part of life - with all of the millions of unpleasantness, annoyances, and irritations that come with just living.  But anger does not stay long; rather just stops by for a brief, very hot, intense visit and then slips away.  We are just trying to recognize its arrival in each of us and find the patience to wait until it leaves.  Trying to pay attention to what makes us angry and how to stare our anger down until it leaves our bodies without hurting anyone else (both physically or emotionally).  And somehow the acceptance that anger exists has helped each of us feel more in control of ourselves.


the passage of time in clothes

Friday, August 16, 2013

I have been working on a giant project these last few days that has been weighing on my mind for several months.  I am just about waist deep in kids' clothes - sorting, organizing, and labeling to ship stuff to the attic in a way that I can quickly find the correct sizes.  Its taking a long while, as unfortunately, things were have been shoved into any open space in bins through working, moving, and new babies.  Alas, the time has come and it's been quite a tedious undertaking to get them all sorted out.


Logistically speaking, since we have a boy and a girl - the bins are being set up by gender and by size for some future babies (NOT YET, grandmas!) or to distribute as handmedowns to our younger cousins (can't wait to meet you, Lainey!) or our younger best friends.

We are blessed with older cousins and best friends too - which has helped contribute to our massive collection of kids' clothes.  We almost will never have to buy any other kids another piece of clothing through 5 years old.  I was holding up size 5T future clothes for Grey and Gem while packing them up and thinking, "Sheesh, I can't even imagine their little bodies being big enough to fit this shirt!"

After the future clothes, I've since moved onto the smaller clothes (leaving the current/next clothes for last) and I feel quite wistful.  I distinctly remember looking at some of the tiny clothes thinking, "I can't wait until they're big enough to wear this!"  ...and that time has already come and gone.

come and gone.

how?

Like this shirt that I thought made him look like a little man (9mo) and looking at it now, he seems impossibly small.

Grey 9mo


and this summer romper for Gemmi girl (size 3-6mo) and that hat!  Oh, that hat that she wore almost every day last summer.

Gemma 3mo

Gemma 4mo

Gemma 4mo

And all of these jammies.  Jammies just pull at my heart - those sweet sleepy babies that have already slipped away into bigger kids that want to delay bedtime as long as possible now.

Grey 2yr, Gem 3mo

Grey 22mo, Gem 2weeks

Grey 21mo

Grey 15mo

Grey 6mo
How can the days seem so long but the months so short?
Only a Mum would get choked up over organizing kids' clothes bins, eh?
....come and gone.

Sweet babies, slow down, my darlings.
you're breaking your mumma's heart.
xxox

Put a check in the box and move on

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

One of my biggest struggles becoming a Mum has been the ability to just 'go with it.'  I carry a fairly heavy bit of Type A in my bones, so I like things to go closely to how I plan them - as planning is sort of one of my 'things.'  I was definitely one of those girls (pre-motherhood) that thought she knew all sorts of 'right ways' to raise kids and I now think on an almost daily occurrence that I wish I could go back and smack my pre-Mum self for saying anything following the phrase, "When I'm a Mum, I'll never..."  Oh please, you silly, naive girl.

My shock into motherhood started at about 8 weeks of being pregnant for the first time.  I had all the negative symptoms of pregnancy (heartburn, nausea, fatigue, soreness, the list goes on and on) and I was literally shocked that being pregnant did not feel awesome.  The reality checks continued as basically nothing happened as I had planned or expected it to and Greyson was born two weeks early and I blew up like a human water balloon.  


And then nursing was nothing like I thought it would be (way less of a pain in the a, although a lot more difficult to start)
And then being a mom to a newborn was nothing like I expected
neither was being a mom to a baby
nor a mom to a toddler
and then I was surprised by how fast Gem decided to be born
and then again when the post-second baby cramps set in (um, seriously?)
and then surprised again when I got super sick (oops!)


...and I continue to get jolted into a new awareness every.single.day because it is never like I thought it would be and very rarely does it go like I painstakingly plan it. 

Because the thing is - kids just live.  and if they spill a full bowl of cereal in the process - no biggie to them.  Or if after you suit everyone up in winter clothes and boots and hats and THEN they realize they have to take a huge poo - yep, they don't care about that either.   

It's not just hauling two squirmy, loud, overly excited children to the grocery store.  It's also traveling to both sides of the backseat to unbuckle, remind to hold hands, try to tear the them away from those God-forsaken car-grocery carts (whhhhhhyyyyy), return twenty things back to the shelves, explain fourteen times that we don't need milk today because 'Daddy already got us some new milk  yesterday,' and then smile patiently at the cashier as she tells you that your daughter has the entire grocery list in her mouth and your son announces to the bag boy that he's the real Spiderman.


A few weeks ago, I was on the floor in Gem's room folding the kids' clean laundry while both Greyson and Gemma flew around the room like I had given them each a 5 hour energy drink.  Grey was MMA fighting our giant stuffed bear and Gemma was carrying books from one side of the room to the other.  Jon arrived and was baffled by the scene (as a non-Dad himself) but our rule in the house is Mum doesn't care if you run around like a maniac as long as you 'DON'T TOUCH THE FOLDED CLOTHES." Seriously, that rule is cardinal, man and my pre-mom self would be astonished that I allow my kids behave like they belong in the wild...regularly.

Shortly thereafter, the kids started tackling and fighting Jon (and he'd just come from his construction job - read:  filthy dirty) and he suddenly looked up panicked and said, "Oh crap, they're bathed aren't they?"  And very calmly I replied, "eh, sometimes you just have to put a check in the box."

And suddenly, there it was - the biggest realization (yet) in motherhood that I apparently have finally come to learn but probably the hardest one for me to internalize.  Sometimes I do just need to 'put a check in the box' and move on.   



The kids got a bath (check in the box!) and then they immediately got dirty again at dinner.
I vacuumed and mopped (check in the box!) and then 4 minutes later the dogs tracked muddy paw prints through the hallway.
The kids brushed their teeth (check in the box!) and then Daddy gave them cookies.
We went to the post office (check in the box!) and then had to wipe the kids down head to toe from lollipop slobber.

And just now as I was finishing up this post, Grey jumped on the couch and slammed his head off of the arm rest which required:  an extra long snuggle, a flashlight concussion check, and a washcloth with ice in it.  While I was tending to Grey's banged up face (our children rarely have un-bruised faces, wth?), Gemma spilled most of my coffee on the living room carpet.  It may have taken me 4 times as long as it should have, but blog post done (check in the box!)

My cousin and I took our four kids to a zoo this week and we laughed through texts later about how we barely got to talk because we were busy corralling children, making sure goats didn't nibble their hands, and asking the kids to stop spilling the food pellets on the ground. But there weren't any major meltdowns and no acts of violence or bruises.  So at the end of the day, we were all like "Count it!"  Successful play date in public - check in the box!




No one else on this Earth wrecks my plans or ideas of what moments will be like more than my two kids.  But no one else is better at showing me that usually the best laid plans are not nearly as memorable or meaningful as what they make happen.  


Sheesh, I love you two.
impossibly so.

forever and ever, Mum.