Previously I have posted about some of the challenges facing our family, and the blessings that we are receiving during those challenges. I have learned a lot in the past seven weeks - about my family, but also about me. I haven't really liked those posts, because I feel they are somewhat whiny and somewhat sappy, and not nearly as funny as I would like them to be. But part of the reason I write this blog is because I want to share something raw and real. So many times we read blogs and we look at Pinterest and wonder what is wrong with our lives. How can these other people be happy all the time? How are they able to be so creative when I am struggling to make plain old paper chains? Is it cheating if I just buy the craft kits instead of coming up with ideas on my own? Will all of this lack of creativity scar my children and set them behind because I don't great them with first day of school survival kits and weekly themed treats?
I have a confession to make. It is about something that I have tried to keep secret, though not very well, from those outside my immediate family. It is not something I am proud of, and the fact that it could be much worse doesn't make it any better. I have been battling for several years now a problem with anger - specifically yelling. I tend to react first and think about it later. Though I always apologize, that doesn't take away that I got upset in the first place. And though I have made a point in our household and even when I yell to not use put downs, name calling, or anything that could diminish the self worth of whoever I am yelling at, being yelled at can still make a person feel like a failure.
Songbird and Sunshine can remember a time before I started yelling, and it is my hope that Starlet, Snickers, and Smash don't remember me yelling at all. Unless it is their names from the sidelines, cheering them on.
I actually have not yelled in the past seven weeks - I consider myself in anger remission. I am also considering making myself my own behavior chart to put next to the kids, and covering it with lots and lots of gold stars. As soon as I peel them off my nose.
Not yelling hasn't taken a huge amount of will power, or biting my tongue all the time. It actually had a fairly simple solution. I figured out why I yelled and was angry all the time. I knew that I wasn't really that angry about the inevitable mess. Though I find messes frustrating and distracting, it is not enough to make me angry, because just as Starlet points out, messes go with kids like peanut butter goes with jelly. Kids forget to do their chores, or shove everything in other places and claim their room is clean. No matter how many clear bins and labels you buy, things will be put away in the wrong place, and the bins will be used as battle helmets, bug houses, rock gardens, and footwear. I find a lot of it really funny actually, so no, the mess is not what was making me mad.
My husband raised an eyebrow to me last night when discussing an extended family member's depression, I explained in a frustrated manner that I don't understand why so and so just didn't buck up and kick depression's butt. Sure I get down, but then I go all Mortal Kombat on the blues that are bothering me and then they go away. Perhaps being raised by a military man is necessary for this.
The point being is that when faced with interior personal challenges, my first answer is aggression. I have been so angry, so incredibly hopping mad....at myself. I sincerely believed that I am failing as a mom. At first I thought that my feelings of failure were just centered around dealing with the time it has taken to get a proper diagnosis for Songbird, and the extent of which several of her issues have gone untreated and un-noticed, as well as dealing with my inability to help Sunshine with her dyslexia. Those two issues alone are massive, and certainly enough to make me feel like a failure. Then I realized that my feelings of failure extended past that. That Starlet isn't reading better than she is, even though she is clearly ready, because I haven't had time to give her that extra attention and push. That I haven't provided enough opportunities for Snickers to get out all that boy energy that drives his sisters bonkers, and thus his favorite activities have been chosen out of self defense. (If I enjoy playing Barbies, maybe they won't paint my nails and stuff me in a tutu...again). We don't have enough traditions, do enough crafts, miss out on important community events...the list goes on and on. Basically I felt that I was doing nothing right, and because it was cyclical and constant, I couldn't take a kick butt attitude against it and make it go away. Instead I kept running on the hamster wheel, spraying little shavings of anger in every direction.
Right now I suppose I am still at that phase where the hamster lays on its belly on the wheel and lets it rock him back and forth for a bit as the momentum slows down. I am not yelling, thus no longer running, and am gathering my bearings by making action plans. I am working on slowly accepting that I am not super human, and shouldn't expect myself to be. I am shifting my focus from chief fixer to chief advocate. Instead of trying to help and spending anywhere between two and six hours a day talking to Songbird straight just to get her through to the next day, I am going to advocate more to ensure that she gets the additional help she needs from the counseling services. I am going to continue to do all of the tips and techniques for Sunshine's dyslexia, but I am going to press harder to make sure she gets the special education services she needs from the school. I am going to try to have a firmer schedule allocated to work with Starlet. And I am teaming up Snickers and Smash together. All my children can and will succeed in their chosen paths. Though I cannot help them entirely by myself, I can be their voice and advocate for them. Battle mode on!
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