(if you are newish to this page, welcome, and have a read here to get a background on #3)

Dear Grouchy Old Man,

Thanks so very much for coming out of your office and chiding me for my son’s behavior. I really needed it at. That. Precise. Moment. Because you know, with four kids in tow, one who is pitching one hell of a fit, I didn’t have enough on my mind. Nope, I wasn’t already sweating bullets as I tried to calm my son, as I tried to rationalize with him, as I tried to tell him it would be okay all while keeping three other kids quiet. Nope, I didn’t have anything on my mind at the moment when you said “What in the hell is going on here?” Because at the moment you know, I was just enjoying the moment, eating bon bons and loving the screaming fit that I know wouldn’t end for minutes. Loving the stress of knowing that someone, like you, would probably pop your head out into the hall and judge me. Loving the embarrassment that my son screams, and screams, and screams AND I CAN’T STOP IT.  Nope, I didn’t have anything on my mind and I really needed someone like you to put me in my place and make me think “what in the hell IS going on here.”

So thank you. Now do what I said. Go back in your office and close the door. That’s what doors are for. So you don’t hear noise.

Yours truly,
The Orange Rhino

*

Nope, not bitter at all. Not sad either. Or ashamed. Or frustrated. Or lost. Nope none of it.  I just LOVE having a child that screams.

Well, I mean, I do. I love #3, screams and all. I can’t imagine my world without him. I wouldn’t trade his sweet smile and cuddles for a child who doesn’t scream. I wouldn’t trade his jokes and facial expressions for a child that doesn’t scream. I wouldn’t trade his curly hair and sweet evolving voice for a child that doesn’t scream.  I would however trade the nasty comments and looks from people for some smiles of support, some facial expressions of empathy, some sweet gestures like “hey, it’s okay. We’ve all been there.” But no, I don’t get any of that. I just get judged and chided. And I am tired of it. Really, really, tired of it. Enough already.

Do people think that I am not trying? Because I am.

Do people think that I really want my son to keep screaming on and on and on so that people can continue to glare and talk about both of us? Because I don’t.

Do people really think that if they insult me it will inspire me to try even harder? That it will make my son stop screaming? Because it won’t.

Do people think that I need advice as to how to handle the situation…as if I haven’t read every article out there on the matter? Because I have.

My son, my wonderful, beautiful, loving, charming son screams.

He is a screamer.

He screams when he can’t communicate. He screams when he can’t get his way. He screams when he doesn’t know what else to do. Because that is what he did for an entire year plus when he couldn’t talk at all. My sweet son learned to scream and it is now a nasty, nasty habit that we, me, my husband, his speech therapist and his occupational therapist are trying to break.

And we aren’t succeeding. Yet. So I have a screamer on my hands.

And NO he is not a screamer because I encouraged it. He is not a screamer because I allowed it. He is not a screamer because I wanted it. He is a screamer because that is what he could do in the absence of words. He is a screamer because his mouth hurt for almost a year straight and he couldn’t tell me.

Trust me old man, I am just as frustrated and annoyed as you were yesterday.

Trust me old man, I SO desperately want the screaming to stop. For so many obvious reasons.

And trust me old man, every time my son screams I cry inside.

I cry because I can’t stop it. I cry because I know a**holes like you judge me, but more so, judge him. That a*sholes like you assume something is wrong with him, wrong with me. I cry because I truly believe my son doesn’t want to be screaming. He doesn’t want to be feeling frustrated, sad, angry, whatever it is he is feeling that makes him scream the way he does.

And oh that scream. His lips pout, his eyes turn down, and he looks like he is about to burst into tears and cry. But he doesn’t. He screams instead.  Oh how I wish he would just cry. Then we could cry together.

Would that be better for you old man? To see my son cry because something is so wrong? Would that be more convenient to you and your conference call? No, not really? Well maybe it would make you stop judging.

Maybe if my son cried instead of screaming you would see that he is struggling. That he is really struggling.

Then maybe your heart would have talked before your mouth.

Then maybe I would have tried harder (or at least cried less later).

187 days of not yelling, 178 days of loving more to go! 

Dear Sarcasm,

While I love you, and oh do I love you, the truth is you often hide something really deep that I need to look at. My post the other night about how to get my kids to listen to me was a perfect example. In the middle of writing that sarcastic rant about the challenges of getting my kids to listen to me (read here), I had a deep thought, a few questions really. And these questions kept pestering me to think about them these last few days so tonight, I had to give it a go. I had to go deep and not hide under you. See you soon though I am sure…

Cheers,
The Orange Rhino

*

In all my questioning of how to get my boys to listen to me better, in all my reading of how to get my boys listening to me better, never once did I read, or stop and think…

Do I ask my boys to listen too much? Or in other words,

Do I ask my boys to do too much?
Do I ask so much that they are tired of having to listen to me request them to do things?
Do I ask so much of my boys that when I speak all they hear is “blah blah blah, blah blah?”

Because I have to admit. I ask my boys to do a lot. Not just expectations, but actions, behaviors. In fact, I don’t think I stop asking them to do things all day. Don’t play guns. Don’t say mean words. Don’t hit. Don’t push. Don’t spit. Stop when someone says stop. Clear you plate at meal time. Stay at the table at meal time. Try to make your bed. Try to clean your room. Please put your shoes away. Please don’t leave toys on the stairs. Please don’t slam doors. Please use your inside voice. Please come here for a second. Please put your toys down it’s time to leave.  Can you help me with this? Can you help me with that?

Oh. My. God.

I am tired just writing out all the things I ask them to do. I get tired just thinking of all the times I ask them to stop what they are doing in order to listen to me so that they can do what I WANT. WHEN I WANT IT. HOW I WANT IT.

Shoot, I would get tired of having to listen to me talk all day. Wait, I DO get tired of listening to myself talk. I DO get tired of giving “directions” all day long. I know my job as a parent is to teach my sons, to guide them how to become good sons, good brothers, good friends, good neighbors, good people all around and with that does unfortunately come a lot of requests on my part and a lot of listening on their part.

A LOT.

And I know that many of the things I ask do need to be heard, do need to be listened to, do need to get done.

But still…

Maybe, just maybe, my sons have a hard time “listening” because I truly ask too much, because I bombard them all day long with requests, instructions and expectations about how to act? Maybe my sons have a hard time “listening” because they are simply OVERLOADED with information from me and opt to tune me out because they both need and want a break?

I mean gosh, there is a list of 10 actions, JUST 10, that I could do (supposedly) in order to have children that listen better (read here). Just 10 things and I feel too bothered to be bothered to do all 10, to remember all 10. And I am an adult!

For my boys, the list of things I ask them to do is a heck of a lot more than 10. It’s more like a 50. And I bet if I actually tracked it, it would be more like 100.

I know how 10 items makes me feel.
I can only imagine how 100+ items makes my kids feel. And they are kids. KIDS!

So truly, I have to stop and think, am I ASKING MY KIDS TO DO TOO MUCH? Too much so that when I do speak, they tune me out because they are tired of listening and having to respond…again for the umpteenth time that day?

As I think about it I think the answer is NO. Wait, YES.

NO a lot of what I ask is necessary and part of becoming a responsible, nice, respectful, loving, good person, being asked to do things, lots of things, it’s part of the territory of being a kid. But at the same time….

YES they are just kids and listening is hard work for them…um, it’s hard work for me as a quasi-adult! I could afford to not get so miffed when they don’t listen. I could afford to take it less personally, to be more empathetic and to remember how much I ask of them AND how much they already do! I could afford to lighten up a bit, to stay focused on the big items I want them to listen to and respond to but perhaps stop nagging about the small items.

I could afford to, no I WILL, try to stop and ask myself more often, is my request necessary? Can I chill out? Can I let my kids be kids? And maybe, just maybe, if I chill out and ask less of my kids, they will listen better when I do ask. It’s a fine line, asking too much of my kids and asking too little, but it’s a line I need to explore because I have a hunch that I am too much on the too much side.

184 days of not yelling, 181 days of loving more to go!

Dear sweet children of mine,

Why of why do you insist on not listening me to me when I ask you to do something? Why is that your pre-school teacher can speak and you immediately respond, dutifully? And if not the first time, the second time? Whereas for me, if not the first time, or the second, it takes five or size times for you to respond? Does your teacher have magic powers I don’t know about it? Do I speak in a foreign language that you don’t understand? Oh I wish I knew the answer. Because this is one of the biggest sticklers in our relationship. My asking, you’re not doing. Please get your shoes on for school. Please don’t pick up the baby. Please come to the dinner table. Please clean up the legos on the floor. Please that, please this. Seriously some days all I want to scream is: “HELLO!!! Why aren’t you doing what I asked you to do??? DO IT NOW…please!”

xoxo,
Mommy Orange Rhino

*

“#1 STOP banging the blocks.” I said kind-of politely from across the room.

Of course, he didn’t stop.

“#1 STOP banging the blocks NOW.” I said a little less politely from across the room.

Of course, he still didn’t stop.

“#1 STOP doing banging the blocks NOW OR ELSE.” I said even less politely from across the room, but now with the kitchen sink running.

Still, no bloody response.

Finally, I turned the sink off. I walked across the room to where #1 sat banging the family room coffee table with heavy wood blocks. I got down to his level, looked him in the eye, and said “#1, please stop banging the blocks on the table. Did you hear what I said? Repeat it back.”

“Please stop banging the blocks.”

“Do you understand? Will you listen?”

“Yes mommy. Okay mommy.”

The banging stopped. FINALLY!

Holy sh*t. It was that easy?! It took me four tries to get the obnoxious banging to stop and if I had just gone over in the first place, made eye contact, and made sure he heard me he would have stopped earlier? What the…!

It is SO simple and SO hard to get kids to listen. So simple if you follow all the basic rules different experts suggest:

1. Walk over to child…don’t try to get them to listen from across the room! (Really, I have to move? I can’t multi-task. Dammit.)

2. Make eye contact by getting to child’s level (Are you kidding me? If I get down, I won’t get up. If I wanted to squat I would go to the gym.)

3. Get attention by using child’s name (Seriously? I say his name all day. He doesn’t care. Oh right, that is because I say it too much.)

4. Keep it simple (You mean like the days in elementary school when they taught us, K.I.S.S. Keep it Simple Stupid?!)

5. Keep it short (What, my child doesn’t want to listen to a long speech? I haven’t talked to anyone all day, this is my chance!)

6. Have child repeat back to confirm comprehension (And what if they get it wrong? Do I have to repeat the above process all over again as another child engages in another activity needing my attention?)

All of the above is great. Really. Except for one thing. All of the above takes a boat load of energy, time, patience and persistence. And on a good day, I am using up all my energy, time, patience and persistence to not yell at them to listen…god forbid I actually use those personal resources to get my kids to listen in the first place so that I don’t want to yell!

I mean really. I know all of the above works, nine out of ten times. No that is being nice. 8 out of 10 times. But yet, I don’t do it. Because it is exhausting having to go over to my children (seriously all the walking back and forth, up and down stairs, in and out of the backyard gets tiresome!) and then having to remember everything I need to do to get them to listen and then having to find the self control to do all the aforementioned things instead of screaming “DO WHAT I SAY NOW…BECAUSE I SAID SO!”  It all adds up to make a day longer and harder.

Sigh.

(Photo courtesy of Squidoo.com) 

After I read everyone’s comments the other day about what is the #1 thing that makes you want to yell, and a majority said not listening, I did some online research about how to get kids to listen. I read the above 6 points just about everywhere. Then I read some new ideas which I have since tried and have really worked in addition to the above 6 ideas…

7. Begin requests with “I want” as children naturally want to please. This is working phenomenally. PHENOMENALLY. I hate to admit it because whenever I say “I want” I feel selfish, but they get it.

8. Give Choices I have tried this tactic in the past and it too works well, mostly because my choices are “Do what I want or go to your room.” Hmmm, GREAT OPTIONS MOM. So I changed it up a bit and started giving real options. Much better response.

9. Don’t Bother unless Child is calm. Yeah, that’s a no brainer. If #1 is upset and screaming, guess what, he LITERALLY won’t be able to hear me. So wait.

But I would like to add my own, something I didn’t read anywhere. This is also a no brainer. A true “DUH, mommy, are you an idiot?”idea. I realized it this week during an exchange I had with #2.

“#2, please stop doing THAT.”

“What?”

“Please stop doing THAT.”

“I heard you. What’s THAT?”

“What you’re doing.”

This exchange went on and on. Kind of like the “Who is on 1^st” baseball joke.

I finally got it.

#2 didn’t understand what “that” was. Did I want him to stop singing? Stop tapping his toes? Stop throwing all the books out of the bookcase?

I hadn’t been clear. AT ALL.

Rule #10 for how to get my kids to listen: Be PRECISE! Don’t use the words “this, that” or even just saying “Stop.” Add the descriptors. Make it so painfully clear that there is no room for misinterpretation.

Does that mean next time I say “#2, please stop throwing all the books out of the bookcase (because if you don’t mommy is going to friggin’ lose it?!)”

Ah, parenthood. Gotta love it.

181 days without yelling, 184 days of loving more to go!

Dear #3,

Last Tuesday, July 31^st, 2012 at oh say, 7:23 in the morning you declared you wanted to be potty trained.  We, as in you, me, and your brothers, had JUST sat down and gotten settled at our favorite breakfast restaurant in our favorite vacation town. I had JUST taken a deep breath to enjoy the smell of the ocean. I had JUST relaxed and told myself, I can do this. I can handle 4 kids at a restaurant by myself on 5 hours of sleep.  Then you got up from your chair, as if to challenge my confidence, looked me straight in the eye and without wavering, stated:

“I have to pee.”

“You can go in your diaper, it’s okay.”
(Wrong answer, I know, but everyone was coloring happily, the baby wasn’t screaming, I didn’t want to upset the calm and I really had no desire to start potty training at.that.moment.)

“No, I don’t want to. I go pee pee in potty.”

“Really, right now?!”
(Right now while we are away from home for 3 days and I have no training underwear or anything? Right now while we’ll be spending 3 days at the beach where it is a hike to the potty? Right now, when mommy is overwhelmed and stressed to the max? Right now, as in right now, right NOW?!! Really?!!!)

“Yes. No pee in diaper.”  You said politely and then you screamed not so politely,

“I PEE IN POTTY NOW!”

I simply had no choice. I corralled everyone and we trekked into the very SMALL bathroom. #1, #2 and I cheered you on. But you didn’t need it. You walked right up to the toilet with the biggest air of confidence I have ever seen you display and did your thing, as if you had been doing it your entire life.

Then you turned and looked at me with the biggest, proudest smile I have ever seen. Up until this point, you have been a pretty shy and nervous child. Not that morning my son. Not that morning. It was just pee in the potty but it was so much more than that, to you and to me. It was a turning point. A point where you realized you CAN do things. You CAN communicate. You CAN do things by yourself.

Since that moment I’ve been “teaching you” how to use the potty. You have absolutely no problem peeing in the potty. GREAT!  But oh my sweet son, pooping in the potty, well let’s just say you prefer pooping in your underwear. Like my, you were of the theory to go straight from diaper to underwear which is great, but the constant accidents in the underwear? Not so great. In fact, the accidents are starting to drive me nuts. And it’s only been seven days! You’re using all your willpower to get your pee in the potty and I am using all my willpower to not scream when you poop in your underwear. Somewhere between wiping your bottom (again) and washing dirty underwear (again), I realized something.

Sure, potty training is about teaching you. Teaching you the obvious: to go to the bathroom in the potty, not in your underwear, not on the floor, not in the car seat, not on the rug, not in the tub, not in the pool . Sure it is about teaching you self control, confidence, independence. But really, it’s about TEACHING ME.

Potty Training TEACHES ME.

Potty Training teaches me PATIENCE, LOVE, FORGIVENESS, and UNDERSTANDING as I clean the seventh pair of soiled brown underwear. Of the day. You are not even three. You are just learning. You didn’t have an accident on purpose. I love you no matter what “mistakes” you make during this process, and in life.

Potty Training teaches me PHYSICAL ENDURANCE as I grab you and run with you in my arms across the beach, up the dunes, to make it to the bathroom before you have an accident.

Potty Training teaches me MENTAL ENDURANCE as I force myself to remember to ask you every 5 then 10 then 15 minutes if you need to go, as I force myself to keep asking even after four days of success since accidents do happen…for years to come.

Potty Training teaches me CREATIVITY as I have to come up with new ways to make peeing fun, like putting red food coloring in the toilet and telling you, my little fireman to “quick, use your hose to put the fire out” or saying “hey did you know #2’s love to go swimming in the toilet pool? Let your #2 go splish spash!”

Potty Training teaches me IMPULSE CONTROL as I try, try, TRY my hardest not to yell when you have an accident. Again. And Again. And again. When you look at me and say “I pooping” and you are nowhere near the potty. When you look at me and smile and say “I pooped in underwear!”

Potty Training teaches me CLEANING SKILLS as I learn how to quickly stop the pee from going into every single grout line in the floor and how to get the pee off the seat, under the seat, around the seat….

Potty Training teaches me DECISION MAKING as I have to stop and debate, is this underwear soiled badly enough from a #2 that I should just toss it or is it cleanable? I read in a parenting magazine once that an experienced mom finally realized that sometimes it is easier and saner to just toss the underwear. Have to admit, 9/10 times, she is right.

Potty Training teaches me MULTI-TASKING as I figure out how to cheer you on while you’re on the potty all while keeping your baby brother not only out of the toilet but also away from the stairs and out of the line of fire from your two older brothers.

Potty Training teaches me PRIORITIZATION as I have to drop everything I am doing this week to focus on the task at hand – helping you feel good about yourself and your successes and not to feel down about the accidents. Suddenly, it is clear to me what matters. The to-do list can wait. Your pee pee cannot wait. Literally and figuratively.

Potty Training teaches me to SEIZE the MOMENT, even if inconvenient. Right now, the last thing I want to do is potty train. I’ve got other mountains to climb. But guess what? You want to train now. And as I have learned with your older brothers, when a child wants to potty train, you go with it. So while inconvenient now, it is better in the long run. It is way easier.

But at the end of the day, perhaps the #1 thing Potty Training teaches me is how to RELAX, something I am NOT good at, at all! That despite my desire, yelling at you to go, pushing you to go, shaming you to go, won’t do any good. That if I relax, you’ll relax. And if you relax, you’ll go! All I have to do is chill out and go with the flow. (No pun intended.)

I love you and am so proud of you. We’re making progress, one moment at a time.

xoxo,
Mommy Orange Rhino

177 days without yelling, 187 days of loving more to go!

Dear Computer Keyboard,

My mind is full of so much that I want to say, that I want to get out, that I want to write about yet I can’t because my mind is too overwhelmed. It doesn’t know where to start. What to process first. Because I am too stressed to process what I need to process in order to start writing and feel better. Does that make any sense? So I implore you, can you please pull the words out of my head and help remove the writer’s block? If not, I swear I am going to lose it and by that I mean I am going to scream at my boys and that is the last thing I need right now.

Thanks for your help,
The Orange Rhino

*

I want to write about my baby turning one, about being in denial that I no longer have a “baby” in the house, about being disappointed that I didn’t spend as much “quality” time with my last baby as I hoped, about being frustrated with myself that I am not good at fully enjoying the quality time that I do have.

I want to write about loving my 4 boys but how I sometimes think it would be great to have a girl TOO. Not instead, but TOO. About how smelling a little girl’s Strawberry Shortcake doll just now brought tears to my eyes because I know that some of my most favorite childhood pastimes I probably won’t share with my boys.

I want to write about how I know in my heart 4 kids is our family but that I still dream of having another child. But we won’t because right now my three eldest are each struggling, really struggling, and I am at my wits end which makes it blatantly clear to me that 4 is our limit (because #4 isn’t old enough to give me problems!)

I want to write about how with 4 kids, I can’t seem to figure out how to adequately give each one the help they need right now. How frustrated I am that I have been told by speech therapists and occupational therapists what I should do to help my kiddos yet I can’t find the time (scratch that, that I don’t make the time) to help them.

I want to write about how I love having 4 kids, but how it has ostracized me from lots of things that I knew it would, that I wouldn’t change it for a world, but still sometimes it gets me down, sometimes I feel alone and lost and like no one understands me or my challenges.

I want to write about how having 4 kids is wonderfully…hard. How I don’t have it all together like people think…but that I wish I did. That I was truly the “wow, you are such a patient mom, you always seem so pulled together to.” Ha, as if!

I want to write about how I constantly question my boys’ behavior and worry if it is just a phase, if it is a boy thing, if it IS normal or not, if it is a result of my parenting and then I worry about what others think about their behavior and what others think about my parenting. And I know no one’s opinions matter per say, but I still worry.

I want to write about how I haven’t yelled lately but that I’ve used a firm voice an awful lot to try to get said behavior in line. And that I don’t like that. At all. And that even though I haven’t broken my Orange Rhino Challenge rules, I am still not pleased with myself because I know I can do better.

I want to write about how despite all the craziness in the house I love my boys SO much and that I wish I could enjoy the good moments more, yet it is near impossible because the minute I find myself enjoying the moment BAM someone starts screaming.

I want to write about how I want to actually seize the moment and go on adventures with my boys, yet how I feel stressed most of the time and can’t help but wonder, is it worth it? Is it worth it to push myself for a few hours of fun? (The answer is always yes but still at the beginning, I always wonder!)

I want to write about how excited and proud I am that #3 decided to potty train himself while on our recent adventure, but how sad I am that he is growing up and that I will yes, miss changing his diapers. We always had such great chats during diaper time, seriously, and it always gave me 30 seconds to stop and stare at his beautiful baby face and cherish his adorableness.

I want to write about how #3 still screams an awful lot and that as much progress as we have made in a year, I still feel like we are dealing with the same issues and I worry that something is wrong. That either I am parenting wrong or that there is something else going on. Autism has been ruled out but still, I worry.

I want to write about how we feel #2 is being bullied and we don’t know how to proceed. He is only 4. That’s right people. 4. Who knew kids could be so mean? Who knew that watching my son being excluded and then laughed at would bring back painful memories of my own childhood?

I want to write about how #1 is always anxious and worried. That he gets it from me and I feel awful about it. Awful that he experiences these feelings, awful that I get frustrated by the 100^th question driven by concern. What is a boardwalk? If it is on water, will it fall down? Will I fall in the ocean? Will I drown? Will a lifeguard rescue me? All he needs to hear is “you’re safe” instead he hears frustrated and short responses to his questions.

I want to write about it all. Every last bit of it and more.  I want to write about all that is clogging my mind and putting me on edge with my kids, yet I fear that if I sit down and truly, deeply write about what’s on my mind and then read it on the screen it will be real. Which I know is actually a good thing, but still.

I want to write because keeping all my feelings of sadness, anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment bottled up inside is leading to one thing…a not nice mommy. I might not be yelling but I am not necessarily as nice as I want to be either. Not even close. I need to let these feelings out because my boys deserve better. Full. Stop. Period.

Note to self (1): After I wrote this, I instantly felt better. I felt a weight lifted. I felt a teensy bit of patience and love come back into my body. Don’t keep things bottled up. It does you NO GOOD.

Note to self (2):  When you start to feel overwhelmed, tackle the stress bit my bit. You didn’t write anything because you felt the need to write the whole thing. You didn’t know where to start. You wrote a little bit about each feeling and felt like you made progress. Kind of like getting through the day without yelling. Take it one step at a time…

168 days of not yelling, 197 days of loving more to go!

Dear Self,

I yelled at my kids because I could (read here).
I yelled at my kids because I was tired.
I yelled at my kids because they annoyed me (read here).
I yelled at my kids because I didn’t know what else to do.

Because nothing else was working.

Because I have never been a parent before. Because even though I have 4 kids, each child is different. Parenting each child is a new experience. An exhilarating yet exhausting experience that is new territory every day. And no matter how many years I have been a parent, or how many parenting books I have read, or how many parenting anecdotes I have heard, or how many days I have been without yelling, SOMETIMES I AM AT A LOSS. And I don’t know how to handle the situation.

And I just want to scream because it feels like the logical next step. It feels like the right move when patience, understanding, determination, intelligence all have failed. Because if all the positive attempts haven’t stopped behavior that deserves discipline, then the only other option is negative reinforcement, right? To yell so loud that my son bursts into tears and forgets about tormenting his brother and me and instead focuses on how I am tormenting him with my awful words and actions.

Rationally, I know that screaming is not the logical next step.

I know that I have to keep at the patience, understanding, and determination to not yell. I know that I can’t give in and scream even if I want to.

Because it won’t work. It will just make matters worse across the board.

But oh how the FRUSTRATION of feeling lost as a parent taunts my rational thinking.

The feeling like an incompetent parent for not being able to reign in some of my son’s horrific behavior.  The feeling like a mean parent for wanting to scream so loud and so long that it scares the sh*t out of my son. The feeling like I am the only parent with this problem.

And that frustration, the frustration of simply NOT KNOWING how the f*** to handle some situations, coupled with my son’s frustrating behavior is enough to make me want to scream at everyone (and maybe do something else besides screaming).

Being a parent is hard. Every day I am learning something new about my son’s individual personalities and how best to relate to them. How best to “manage” their meltdowns. How best to love them. It is exhausting. And when I am at my emotional worst – when all my triggers are in full force – and when my kids are at their emotional worst – when all their individual “areas of improvement” are in desperate need of improvement! – it is even more exhausting.

And it is hard.

Hard. Hard. Hard. Today, I wanted to do more than scream. I wanted to cry. Because I felt so stupid that I couldn’t find a solution. So embarrassed by my kid’s behavior even though no one but me had the honor of witnessing it.  So defeated.

Defeated that 168 days of not yelling hasn’t made my sons perfect angels. Did I really expect that not yelling would make them perfect? NO. Because it won’t. Will it make me feel better about myself as a mom? Yes. Will it make them feel better about me as their mom? Yes. Will they still be kids who sometimes don’t listen and challenge me? YES. It will still happen. Just less.

As I sit here writing outside on my porch while the rain pours down I realize “sh*t, I really shouldn’t feel defeated. Because while today was the perfect storm of all kids AND mom being at their worst, the storms are happening a lot less. A LOT less. And when they do happen, they are one sided. I am NOT yelling back and the storms are shorter.

So I can sit here and feel crappy that I don’t know how to parent in all situations (which I am). That I don’t know how to reign in my kid’s bad behavior sometimes (which I don’t). That I have bad thoughts beyond screaming (which I do). That I am STILL LEARNING and am not a perfect mom (which I always will be doing and never will be…. )

OR I can sit here and say “sh*t, there are let’s say 9 things I want to improve as a mom. And before when I was yelling, the number was 10. I am making progress. I might have not disciplined perfectly today, I might not have known what the h*ll to do, but I tried my hardest, and I didn’t yell. And that counts for something.”

Right?? Please tell me it counts for something.

Because I am feeling such guilt for not being able to properly handle some behavior at home today with #1 and #2. I am feeling like shoot, maybe I should have just yelled. That would have worked. Kind of, but not really. No, not really at all. Come on, Orange Rhino, you know yelling Just. Ain’t. Worth it. In the short term. Or the long term. Don’t give in to it because you don’t know what else to do (just because you’re getting your a*ss kicked by life and by the kids)! Be patient. Ask for help. You have the people to ask. You know that the behavior will improve. You know that not yelling is already helping the behavior to lessen. You know that you both are making progress.

You are making progress. And no one can argue with progress, even if there is more progress to be made.

xoxo,
Yourself, The Orange Rhino

Did you yell today? Are you feeling crappy about it? Maybe like me you made more progress today than you realized…until now. Any progress is progress….

166 days without yelling, 199 days of loving more to go!

Dear #1,

You and I are caught in a battle that needs to end. We’re both in bad moods and we’re bringing each other down. We are spiraling downwards fast as fast can be and we are starting to affect everyone around us. I am writing this post as my way of reminding myself about my commitment to parent with more warmth and composure, two words that I would not exactly use to describe me lately. Sure, I haven’t been yelling at you. But I have not been the mom I know I can be either, the mom that I know YOU NEED in order to help you out of your bad mood. When I see you today after camp I am going to swoop you up and give you a big hug and tell you I love you a thousand times. I am going to hold you until you feel settled. Until you feel safe that we won’t be in a car accident again. Until you feel secure that you aren’t dying anytime soon. Until you feel comfort knowing that even if the babysitter is leaving, mommy isn’t going anywhere. Until you feel more love than you have felt from me these last few days. Because I love you. And you deserve my love, not my wrath…

big hugs and kisses,
mommy orange rhino

*

It’s a vicious cycle that my son and I get stuck in. When we are BOTH stressed and anxious, sometimes for the same reasons, sometimes not, we quickly get stuck being impatient, rude and quite frankly, annoying towards each other. My son starts acting out: hitting ME more, yelling at ME more, crying more, listening less, smiling less. I start acting out too: snapping more, saying no more, listening less, engaging less, smiling less. In the beginning of the vicious cycle, I try my hardest to stay calm, patient, loving and understanding. I try not to take his actions personally. I try to help him in the ways I have learned how. But the problem is, my stress counteracts all my efforts. Because my stress scares him. It makes him worry even more.

And I can’t hide my stress. According to my husband, I’ve always had a bad poker face. This week has been no different. In fact, it’s been exceptionally bad.

I can’t hide my fear that I too will die and leave my kids without a mom. I can’t hide my anger that I had to fire the babysitter at the worst possible time. I can’t hide my frustration that with everything going on I also have to deal with a car accident AND with three angry and sad kids that daddy went back to work after an extended vacation.

And I can’t hide my frustration with my son that his meltdowns are back, tenfold.

I am trying. I am really, really trying. Trust me, I am. Because I know that all my fears and frustrations are written on my face and THAT is actually making my son feel worse. It is making him more anxious, more stressed. My behavior is making him act out more.

Which of course adds a whole new level of stress to my day. Because when he acts out from stress and fear, it is HARD to stop. The meltdowns are enormous. They are physical. And sometimes they are scary. And when they get this bad, my son needs me to be calm, and patient, and loving. He needs me to be all the things I am incapable of being at that moment because I have my own issues.

And because his behavior is making me feel worse. Because like my behavior is stressing him out, his behavior is stressing me out.

So we play this little game. Who can drive the other person nuts faster? We each keep acting stressed and making each other worse. And worse. And worse. It ain’t pretty.

And it’s a pain in the a*s. Because it is exhausting, physically and mentally. Why can’t he pull it together? Why can’t I pull it together? Darnit, I didn’t sleep again last night. Darnit, he didn’t sleep either. Crap, now we are both tired and even MORE overwhelmed and persnickety.

Last Thursday I FINALLY snapped out of it. I finally put an end to the game.

I was REALLY close to yelling at him. Really really close. I had had it with the screaming and the kicking and the throwing pillows. I had had it with feeling like I was the only parent to have a child act like this. I had had it with feeling embarrassed by his behavior. I had had enough of ALL OF IT. I had had it with my week. With the stress. I had had it with him. I was done being patient. I was done being The Orange Rhino.

I walked away as a toy was thrown at me and went to seek solace in The Orange Rhino facebook page.

I looked at the computer screen. And I saw 44, no 45, no 48, no 60 new people had found my page and started following along. I was immediately reminded of my promise to my boys, to all of you and I stopped dead in my tracks. Seriously.

I looked at him and said, “#1, what is wrong? Why are you so angry? Why are you throwing things at me?”

He burst into tears.

“I am angry that the babysitter is leaving. Why doesn’t she love me?”

I held him in my arms so tight and rocked his almost 6 year old body like a baby. He crumpled into my lap and arms and sat and cried and cried and cried. Those tears kicked me in the ass. Those tears reminded me that when in a vicious cycle with him, he NEEDS ME. I AM THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR ENDING the cycle. I am the adult. I am the one who, no matter how hard it is, needs to find the strength and patience to give my son what he needs to “snap out of it.” I am the one who needs to stop and ask, what is going on?

When my son is in a bad mood, rightfully or wrongfully, I need to keep on loving him. When my son is struggling, I need to be an Orange Rhino. I need to find warmth and composure. I need to be patient and calm. I need to be understanding.

When my son and I are in a vicisious cycle of bringing each other down, I have two choices: make it worse or make it better. I finally made it better. It took me days to realize this, it took me days to GROW UP and realize my son needed me. But at least I finally did. And not just because it kept me from yelling, but because it allowed me to love my son more. And really, that is all he needed. To be loved more.

163 days without yelling, 202 days of loving more to go! 

Dear Orange Rhinos,

Today I came MUCH to close to yelling. Why? Were my kids awful? Nope. Were they annoying? Yes. More so than usual, I say with as much love as possible? Nope. Then why? Why was today so hard? Because mama is toast. I am beyond tired. So tonight, I am off to bed. Normally I would go to bed disappointed in myself for not posting on a Thursday night but not tonight. Why? Because I share this great guest post with you.

Below is a BRUTALLY honest, brutally courageous post all the way from Denmark. I asked Frederrike to write for me because her commitment to The Orange Rhino Challenge is amazing and inspiring. She writes from the heart and says the hard things. Please, have a read and share your comments on Facebook so she can read them immediately! Being honest is hard enough – being honest and having to share it in another language? Even harder. So please, show your support. And thank you Frederrike!!!

*

Dear Rhinos,

It all started about a month ago. I googled the internet. I don’t remember what I googled, I just googled. One click led to another and suddenly I came across an Orange Rhino. It were like looking in a mirror, and besides the fact that I’ve tried to do something about my yelling for as long as I’ve had children without achieving anything, I just knew that the time was right. It’s now or never, as the song goes.

I announced it on my blog. I told the world (or at least a bunch of people in Denmark) that from this day and a year forward I wouldn’t yell (and of course all the years after this one) I don’t know why, or what the Orange Rhino did for me that day a month ago, but somehow the time was right and I was ready.

For far too long I’ve been looking at my boys, while I yelled at them, and seen the fear in their eyes as they looked back at me, crying. That day a month ago I felt so bad afterwards, left with the feeling that I might as well have been hitting them. Something inside me went to pieces, and I just knew that if I didn’t change my behavior, then one day (soon) I wouldn’t be able to fix it. Ever. One of the biggest fears in my life (besides loosing another child) is that my boys one day, when they are big enough, will turn to me and say: “Goodbye mom” and I never will see them again.

For not only did I yell a lot at them, I also placed a lot of guilt and shame in them. Somehow it was the other downside of yelling. First me roaring at them, then me telling them that they are all wrong. They are 6,5 and 2,5 years old. Nothing they do is wrong in a way that ever will defend my destructive behavior towards them.

Every day is a struggle. A good one, I may add. But never the less a struggle. Every day I have to make a choice between yelling or not. Every day I have to make a choice to be a better mom for my boys. Shortly after I challenged myself I bought a lovely little boy with rhino-helmet and angels wings. Him looks at me every day, standing on my desk at work, and reminds me that when the work is finished, I can pick up 2 amazing kids from nursery and school, and they are mine.

In a short time I have achieved much by not yelling. I feel better about myself and I think that I have become roomier towards my children. I leave them space to be boys, with all the noise and mess. So besides the obvious change, it also leaves me with mental surplus to deal with others issues: do some exercise, regulate my weight and being a woman for my husband.

Frederikke

Info: Frederikke 39 years old. Married to Ulrik. Together we have 3 children. Cirkeline (girl) was born 14th August 2004 and died 24th August 2004 due to HLHS. Gustav (boy) born 30th September 2005 and Harald (boy) born 24th November 2009.

162 days of not yelling, 203 days of loving more to go!

Dear Toyota CRV-

Do you see that red sign with 8 sides and the letters S.T.O.P? It’s called a stop sign. You are supposed to, get this, STOP at it. That means to put your breaks on, come to a complete stop where your car doesn’t move. Then you look to see if there is enough space for you to go. If there is, and only if there is, THEN can you make the left turn onto the road that I was driving on. Of course, you didn’t stop. And of course there wasn’t enough room and so I had no choice but to honk and then hit you head on. With two kids in the back seat. Lucky for ALL of us, we weren’t hurt. Lucky for all of us, there were no other cars behind either one of us at that moment. Lucky for all of us, it could have been a lot worse. 10 seconds later, it would have been a different story. But I am still mad at you for not stopping. You scared the crap out of me and my sons who tell me they are “still shaking mommy.” And P.S. I have a lot to do this week as is. Tracking down the police report which proves you are at fault, then getting an estimate, a rental car that holds 4 car seats and then getting the car fixed is the last thing I needed. Harumph. Like I said, next time you see a STOP sign do what it says. STOP.

Sincerely,
The Toyota Minivan driven by the rather annoyed Orange Rhino

*

Ahhh, I feel much better getting that off of my chest. UGH though, what a gigantic pain in the arse! All that aside, I have been working on being more grateful and focusing on the positive. I’ve read in lots of places that being grateful helps with daily happiness. Not that I am not happy. I am. But sometimes the stress of the daily grind gets to me and I um, you know, have the urge to yell.

So tonight, I am going to practice gratitude and while I am at it, share some pretty funny moments from yesterday. Kids can say the darnedest things at the best moments!

Tonight I am grateful for:

1) My kids and I being safe. Really could have been A LOT worse.

2) #2 saying the following to me in front of the other driver: “Mommy, was she a crazy bad driver, is that why she hit us?” Love that it was immediately her fault (which it was) and that he accused her of being a bad driver (which she was).

3) #1 asking the police officer if the other driver was okay. This melted my heart.

4) The police officer, while looking in my car and seeing 4 carseats, immediately asking, “Where are the other 2 kids, and the baby? Are they okay?” When I said they were home with a babysitter he said “Wow, you really are lucky.” And then “WOW. 4 kids. 4 carseats. WOW. That is crazy.” Thank you officer for pointing out the obvious. How about you apply your knowledge to the accident at hand?

5) #1 and #2 being so gosh darn well behaved as we sat at the side of the road in 100 degree weather for 30 minutes with no water. They found sticks and stones and dirt and worms and were as happy as can be. Thank you boys!

6) #2 giving me a hug and gently wiping away my tears when I started bawling. “Mommy, why the tears on your face?” “Oh sweetie, because mommy is so overwhelmed this week with so much on her mind and I don’t want to deal with this too and well, mommy was scared. But we’re okay now.” “Oh, okay, I love you.”

7) #1 saying the following as we get in the car to go home: “You know mom, if daddy had been driving and this happened he would have said…Dammit! That shitty driver! You didn’t swear or yell mommy. WAY TO GO!” Still laughing at this one. Mostly because 160+ days ago I would have screamed something A LOT worse.

Ah, yesterday afternoon stunk. But I really am grateful for how it turned out. The car has some bumps and bruises but my boys made me smile and laugh. And to be honest, I am proud that I didn’t snap or yell at them as we sat in the dirt, them playing, me quietly crying. I held it together under stress – both at the moment of impact and the moments after. I’ve come along way these last 160 ish days. A long way. It’s been one heck of a drive but totally worth it. And I ain’t stopping now! 

160 days of not yelling, 205 days to go
160 days of not yelling, 205 days of loving more to go! 

Dear “Yeah, yeah, yeah I’ll get to it when I have more time mentality,”

You are a pain in the a*s. Sure at the moment when I turn to you and employ you, you are a life saver. You make my to-do list seem smaller. But the thing is time passes. And I still use you for the same things over and over again. And guess what? Those things never get done. Sure some of those things don’t need to get done and so it’s cool. But the other things, they either need to get done or are important enough that they just keep nagging and nagging and nagging until they are done. Tonight’s post is one of those nagging things. So tonight I say, take a hike “yeah yeah yeah I’ll get it done mentality!” I’m going to write a post I’ve thought about for oh, four weeks or more. It won’t be perfect. It won’t be edited. It won’t be everything I want it to be. But it will be written. And off my mind.

See ya!
The Orange Rhino

*

Loving More.

160 days of not yelling. 205 days of LOVING MORE to go.

Did anyone notice that change on the blog? On my Facebook posts a few weeks back? That I stopped writing 160 days of not yelling, 205 to go? That I changed the counter on the right to also say days of LOVING MORE to go? Don’t worry, I am not offended if you didn’t! I had huge, gigantic plans to write about it. The change that is. And then life got in the way of my blogging plans these last 6 weeks. And so the “yeah, yeah, yeah I’ll get to it mentality” took over and I never told you all about the change.

But I wanted to. Because to me, it’s a BIG important change. And my post last night reminded me about it. So tonight, I write about the change. Or at least I’ll try to.

Every time I wrote my days remaining, 205 to go, it felt like an annoying task. A burden.  An unachieveable objective. Totally un-inspiring. What is inspiring though is the thought of Loving my boys MORE. I am often shocked, why I do not know, that my favorite posts all have the same conclusion. That at the heart of this challenge, that what the Orange Rhino Challenge is really all about is love. And loving my boys more.

After I wrote last night’s post I laughed to myself. Actually, no, after I pressed publish I thought “oh sh*t” why did I share that? I seem like such an over achiever talking about wanting to love my kids more. And what the heck does that mean anyways? Did I not love them before the challenge? Of course I loved them before The Orange Rhino Challenge. It’s just that I didn’t always show it and I especially didn’t show my love to my boys in the moments when I used to yell, I mean really yell. Those moments were full of such anger and meanness that they could make my sons question my love. Truly.

So when I say I want to love my sons more what I mean is I want those moments of anger and meanness to be gone and instead replaced with the unconditional love I spoke of yesterday. I have loved my boys since before I even held them. And I love them more than I ever could imagine. And yet, as silly as it sounds, I know I have the capacity to love them even more. Because the opportunity to get rid of those truly ugly yelling moments exists – and I can replace it with more patience, love, and understanding if not forgiveness.

Any moment that I don’t yell, I choose love. I choose to put aside all the negative feelings I have at that moment and instead dig deep to find the feelings of love that I have for my child. Oddly enough, when I stop and look for love when all I feel is anger – whether I look for it in my child’s sweet face, or in a picture in the house, or in a mental image of my son building with legos instead of dumping them – I actually start to feel better. I start to love again, to love more, at that moment and the anger subsides. Corny? Yes. But does it work? Yes yes yes.

So the bottom line in all my rambling tonight is this: Any moment that I don’t yell, I love my child more. So whether it is 365 days, 36 days, 3 days or just one moment when I don’t yell, I have loved my child more and that is inspiring to me.

My 5  and 3/4 year old said to me today:

“Mom, how many more days to you have to go?”

“200 or something.”

“WOW. That’s a lot. You should have picked a smaller number. A smaller challenge. You’re silly.”

Yeah, maybe so. But I want to love you more kiddo, I can love you more, I will love you more….