Category Archives: Emotions

Managing My Anger.

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16

393 days of loving more!

This is a hard post to write.
You know, sometimes it is just really hard to share the truth.
And not because it is that horrifically awful but because I don’t want to hear myself speak the truth. Because I don’t want to relive the truth. I don’t want to feel the frustration and disappointment all over again.

And that is what I feel right now.

Yesterday wasn’t a good day. I simply wasn’t the mom I hope to be, I wasn’t the mom I know I can be but more so, I simply was NOT the mom that my oldest needs me to be. I wasn’t there for him yesterday. I wasn’t there for him. And that just breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. He is so young and trying so hard to navigate his social anxiety and he needed me to help and instead of being as patient and empathetic as I know I can be, I was snappy and irritable.

Did I yell at him? No. (Phew. Then I would really be feeling dreadful.)
But did I pick him up less gently than I would have liked when I put him in time out? Yes.

Did I keep piling on expectation after expectation on him when I knew he couldn’t handle them, or anything at the moment and just needed me to help him calm down? Yes.

Did I start to get all exasperated with the situation instead of crawling under the dining room table with him and just holding him, and loving him, and telling him how much I love him and that it will be okay? Yes.

Like I said, yesterday wasn’t such a good day.

My son hid under the table because he was struggling. He was overwhelmed and angry with me for saying “no” to something and didn’t know what else to do. It was actually quite brilliant – he made a fort out of the chairs so no one would bother him and so he wouldn’t bother anyone and get in trouble. He built a fort to protect himself…because I didn’t offer him the safety that he sought.

My son barricaded me out. And while it is wonderful that he demonstrated how to handle his emotions on his own, it still was a hurtful reminder that I wasn’t there for him. That I saw his S.O.S. signs and ignored them because I was frustrated at the moment. That I sensed my OWN S.O.S. signs that I was losing it and ignored them because I was tired and embarrassed by his behavior in front of our guests.

I don’t like any of the definitions of Anger so a while back I created my own. I try to keep myself in the G and under range otherwise yelling becomes more and more tempting!

Yes, I sensed that I was Annoyed and I let it grow to Negative feelings. I started thinking, oh he is acting so awful, instead of thinking, oh he is acting so overwhelmed and wanting help. And I let that negativity push me into an awful state of Grumpiness where all I did was be short and snappy with him instead of patient and loving. (By the way, short and snappy? Not really helpful in situations like this!)

I would love to lie and say that when I sensed I was heading past the grumpy stage, when I sensed that I was headed towards Exasperation (and potentially yelling) that I walked away and listened to all the advice that I share with you on my blog – like having a hug-of-love instead of a tug-of-war, like stomping my feet like a Rhino to stomp out my frustration, like “snapping” out of it – and that helped me keep my growing anger tame and helped me be more loving, but I didn’t.

And I would love to lie and say that even when I knew I was being overly snappy, even when I knew I wasn’t reaching my hands forward to pull the chairs back to go under the table with him but rather abruptly putting them on my hips in pure exasperation, that I finally heeded my S.O.S. signs and walked away for a breather so I could squelch my growing anger.  But I didn’t.

Oh and I would love to lie and say that I finally sat patiently on the floor near him and waited for him to come out of hiding instead of leaving the room, but I can’t. I can’t lie.

But what I can do? What I did yesterday. After feeling disappointed in myself that I let myself get past level “G” of anger, after feeling disappointed that I let myself get all exasperated instead of using one of my tips to get to a place where I could be empathetic, after feeling disappointed that I didn’t do what I know I needed to do in that situation, I finally said to myself the one thing I say to many of you all when you feel frustrated from yelling:

“Forgive yourself. You are only human. You are not perfect and you don’t need to be. Pick up and move on to the next moment.”

Yes, I am only human. I am not perfect. And that’s okay. Yes, I don’t yell but yes I do still have moments where I wish I parented a little better, a little softer, a little more lovingly. Yes, yesterday was one of those days. GOSH how I wish I tore back the chairs and grabbed my son in my arms and held him like a baby and told him “I love you. I know it is hard and I know you are frustrated with yourself and with me. But we can get through this, okay? Just let me hold you and love you. We both need it.”

GOSH how I wish I did that because then I wouldn’t have felt all frustrated, sad and annoyed with myself later that day for not staying as cool as I like. But again, I didn’t pull the chairs back and I did get more frustrated than I like but dwelling on it longer than I did would not make matters better. Dwelling on it yesterday, and even today, will just bring me down and keep me from being able to try my best in the next challenging moment. And dwelling on it, well I learned early on that dwelling, especially when I feel like I “failed” is a big ‘ole trigger. Yes, it is pretty hard to keep my emotions in check, it is very hard to keep them G rated or below, when I am dwelling on something.

So yesterday I forgave myself, I loved myself and celebrated that I didn’t yell and eventually when I did all that, well I was able to love my son how he deserved and how I wanted to. It was a little late, but better late than never….

*

I wrote this post Tuesday. Today we had another hard moment. But today, I immediately dropped to my knees and went under the table with my son. I can honestly say that if I was still dwelling on Monday’s episode (which by the way, the old me would have been), I wouldn’t have been able to go under that table today because I would have been in a huge twit still, completely incapable of remaining calm and loving. Yes, I would have been stuck feeling even more exasperated. So yeah, not dwelling feels way better.

 

 

Rumor Has It.

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19

386 days of loving more! 

I’ve written a lot about my oldest son and his emotional struggles.
I’ve written a lot about my third son and his speech delay.
And I’ve obviously written a lot about my fourth son and his seizure activity.

But I haven’t written a lot about sweet #2. I am not sure why. It certainly isn’t because there is nothing to write. There is plenty of good, and plenty of not-so-good. If I had to guess I haven’t written about him because of all four boys, he is the one that I have figured out the least. I “know” generally speaking how to help my first, third and fourth sons with their issues because I understand their issues. Although there is no perfect clarity, I at least have a roadmap and a group of people to support and help me with their distinct challenges.

But #2, sweet #2, well, I am still working to understand how to help him. He struggles to fit in and has been picked on and excluded more than a four year old should be, which is perhaps why I don’t write about it. It is outright too bloody painful to admit and share. He struggles with impulse control more so than typical for his age group, which is perhaps why I don’t write about it because I feel judgment and labels will come flying. And he struggles with always feeling not good enough and well, sometimes I feel I contribute to that.

But you know what else, he gives the greatest hugs in the world. He rubs my back sometimes…just because. He tells me he loves me first thing in the morning right after he asks me “how did you sleep mommy?” And he has a zest for life that is absolutely, positively 110% inspirational.

Rumor has it that despite his struggles, which can be a turn off to me at times, and to his classmates and his teachers, he is an awesome kid. Wait, that’s not a rumor. It’s true. My second son is awesome. Like all of us in this world, he is just trying to find his way and as his mom, I am just trying to find my way to support him because the last thing that I want to be is another reason he feels picked on or not good enough. Not the rumor, but the truth, is that I just want to love him as much as I can. And sometimes that means letting him be right. Because sometimes, being right doesn’t really matter.

We were driving in the car last week and the song “Rumor Has It” by Adele came on. #1 started singing.

“Rumor has it. Rumor has it.”

Then #2 felt the need to sing too.

“Puma has it. Ooooo Ooooo Puma has it.”

“That’s wrong! It’s Rumor has it. R-U-M-O-R!” said #1.

“No, it’s PUMA. I swear.” #2 insisted with such a passion that I almost thought he was right. I felt the need to intervene and correct him, why I don’t know. Maybe because he is also in speech therapy and is working on his R’s?

“Actually #2, it is rumor. Rrrr-umor.” I said sweetly and patiently.

“NO Mommy. It’s not. I heard it with my very own ears. I’m pretty smart you know. Really smart actually. Trust me, it’s Puma has it.”

“Sweetie, is sure does sound like Puma but it is Rumor.” I said again. And again, why? Why was I making such a big deal of this? Fingers crossed the song would be off the radio soon and it wouldn’t matter anyway. For the record I can’t stand this song. Can’t. Stand. It.

“NO MOMMY! YOU ARE WRONG AND I AM RIGHT!” He said to me ever so loudly and this time with tears in his eyes. He wasn’t crying…yet. The tears were just caught in the corner of his eyes, waiting to fall out as they always do. As they always do.

Hugging my number 2. Gosh, just looking at this makes me cry. Oh how I love him so!

#2 cries a lot. He cries when he gets picked on (understood.) He cries when no one sits next to him at birthday parties (the crying understood. The not sitting next to him? Not so much. He is awesome and funny and has a heart of gold.) And he cries when he tries so hard to say something right, when he tries so hard to be liked, to be a part of something.

Those small tears were the best gift ever to me. They reminded me that sometimes, being right really doesn’t matter. That sometimes, letting things go and moving on is not only okay, but necessary. This was one of those cases.

“Okay #2, you might very well be right. You do have good hearing ears, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

The refrain played again.

“See mommy, Puma has it, I told you so. I am SOOOOO smart.”

And I was sooooo smart for letting go and accepting that it really is a rumor that it’s necessary as a parent to always be right. Because letting go, letting my son be right over such a small thing to me, but a huge thing to him, well, it gave him a moment of self confidence that he so desperately seeks…and needs.

*

So often I yelled because I wanted things my way because my way was *obviously* right, ie. how to clean up and organize the basement. As soon as I learned to let go a bit and pick my battles more carefully, yelling less became infinitely easier. 

Choosing Perfectly Imperfect Moments

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380 days of loving more!

A few weeks before my wedding I got some of the best advice from a friend who had just been a Bridesmaid. She said, “whatever happens, choose to smile and laugh, don’t be a b*tch.” I kid you not. At the moment, I thought this was peculiar advice. Of course I wouldn’t be a b*tch on my wedding day! I would be oozing love and joy and all things magical and wonderful of course!

And then during my cocktail hour, a friend and I went to hug and in our exuberance misjudged our arm placements. We collectively knocked his glass of red wine down the front of my dress. My beautiful, white, wedding dress. What’s a Bride to do?

I laughed, of course!

And then, as my mother and friends tried to rush me to the bathroom to save my dress, I joyfully said, “It’s all good! Really! Let me eat some h’orsdeuvres!” They looked at me in disbelief. Who was this Bride and where was the real person they knew who flipped out over the smallest things??? And then in the bathroom, as they all tried to clean my dress, I continued laughing and said, “Just give me some more wine, I’ll pour it on my dress in other spots and make a polka dot dress!” I was not kidding, not one bit.

All that is missing from this picture is my smile and my mother’s face with her draw dropped open, expressing her thought “The dress, the dress! The wine is on the beading and the front!”

Was I drunk? Nope. I just remembered the advice from my friend and CHOSE to not let the great red wine incident of January 3, 2004 ruin my Wedding Day. See, when my friend was a bridesmaid a few weeks prior to my wedding, she witnessed the Bride go ballistic on a fellow bridesmaid after she accidentally spilled wine all over her. My friend explained to me how the Bride singlehandedly ruined both her own wedding and one of her friendships with her terse words and screaming, hissy fit. As she shared this story with me she said, “Whatever you do, if something goes wrong at your wedding, because it probably will, don’t be that Bride. Choose to enjoy everything else around you.”

Choose.

Such a key word. I am so glad that I chose on my wedding day to let the red wine incident go. In fact, short of getting married, it is one of my favorite memories of that day. Oddly enough though, despite that wonderful experience and knowing that I can always make the choice to focus on the positive and not the negative, when I became a mom I completely forgot this lesson! Before this challenge, I did a truly phenomenal job of letting small or big annoying things bring me down and ruin special days. Blech.

I remember my first birthday as a mom. I remember my son crying all day and my just wanting to have fun and celebrate. I let it get to me instead of enjoying all the phone calls and cards and flowers that arrived that day; I let the crying ruin my mood, my day.

I remember my first Thanksgiving with two kids and trying to get a family picture for a Christmas Card. I remember the tears from all three of us because no one was cooperating and I just wanted the perfect card. I let my disappointment get to me; I let it ruin my mood, my Thanksgiving day.

I remember our first family vacation to the beach with three kids in tow. I remember being so frustrated that it wasn’t a real vacation, that no child was sleeping, that I couldn’t sit back and read a book. I let my annoyances get to me; I let them ruin my first three vacation days.

On day 4, I finally woke up and remembered something. I had a choice. I could choose to complain and whine or choose to embrace the beach, crying babies and all. I chose to embrace all that was around me and ignore the few things getting me down. The rest of the vacation was great. Not perfect, but great nonetheless.

On my 365th day of my challenge when my son had his seizure I felt anger; and I have felt it for the last few weeks. BUT I made a choice that day. I would NOT let that seizure ruin my day, and I didn’t.  I had my angry moment and then I focused on how grateful I was that my husband was home to help. I focused on how grateful I was that even though the emergency medicine didn’t work, he still came out of the seizure okay. I focused on how excited my boys were to release balloons and eat celebratory cake. I focused on how lucky I was to have such a supportive Orange Rhino Community. And you know what else I did that day? After I cried, and re-focused on all the good things? I laughed.

I laughed because I knew in my heart of hearts that #4 would have a seizure that day. I just knew it, so much so I almost wrote it down on paper and hid it to show my husband later. If there is one thing I have learned as a mom it’s that chances are that on the days and times that I really, really want to be totally awesome and perfect and special, as long as I have young children, something will probably go wrong. Whether it be one child doesn’t nap and is cranky, one child gets a fever, one child falls, or one child just knows I want the day to be easy and therefore refuses to let it be as such, the chance is something will not meet my expectations.

And I have finally accepted that and it is OKAY with me and thankfully stopped yelling at those moments. My kids are just kids; they don’t need to be perfect. And I don’t need perfect moments. I just need happy moments and I can choose to make imperfect moments, happy. I can choose to be a little more laid back with more realistic expectations because that does help the moment go smoother (and keeps me from yelling.) And I can choose to focus on the good even when things happen beyond my control because they are going to, time and time again.

That certainly was the case two weeks ago. But thank gosh for The Orange Rhino Challenge because it is a daily reminder that just like on my wedding day, I have a choice every moment. I can let things get to me when my expectations for a special “perfect” day aren’t met and I can be a yelling, hissy fit b*tch, or I can be a loving mom who goes with the flow and appreciates the perfectly imperfect moments!

I am going with the flow a lot more now and I have got to tell you, it makes for a lot more beautiful, yell-free memories. This is entirely new territory for me – not letting unmet expectations ruin special moments or days – and I still struggle at times to remember to make the choice to focus on the positive. But when I do, oh does it truly feel better. It feels great not fretting and fighting over Christmas pictures, not complaining and crying over restless vacations, and not yelling and yipping over my kids behavior when they are just being kids and are trying their best to please me (because they are you know….)

At the end of the day, my kids are not perfect; I am not perfect. Together we will not always have perfect moments. But, we can have lots of happily imperfect ones that are perfect because we are together…and because I choose to focus on the positive, not the negative.

* Note: Emphasis on the I am not perfect. I am not, truly. I believe everything I have written here but will sometimes forget it. But I will still try to embrace and remember all of it because again, when I do, it is awesome.

What’s Anger Got to Do With It?

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15

379 days of loving more!

Two Wednesdays ago was supposed to be a most joyous day. It was my 365th day of not yelling. I woke up excited, proud, and so happy. I woke up eager for the day of celebrating with my boys to start. I woke up to start writing only to hear all my 4 boys up at 5:30. Ironically, on this momentous day, I went to yell but stopped myself. I knew they were all awake because they too were excited; there was no reason to squash that! They too were planning a fun day and were eager to get on with it. I took a deep breath, closed my mouth and pretended to not see them as they scampered downstairs to decorate the kitchen with daddy and put out signs shouting congratulations. My youngest, #4, now 18 months, had settled himself back to sleep so I settled back into writing.

Around 6:30, I was informed that it was time for me to come downstairs as long as I was wearing my orange sweater and orange jewelry (well of course I was!) I headed to #4’s room to wake him so he could join me in the family celebration.

Well, this is where the joyous day took a turn. My sweet son was awake all right; and having another darn seizure. (Ah, two weeks later and the tears that I have held so tight to my heart finally start falling out as I write this….) I shouted down to my husband to grab the video camera and the emergency medicine to stop the seizure. We watched him, helpless. My husband, who never experienced a seizure, wanted so desperately to help him. “Don’t touch him sweetie, he’ll come out of it. 3 minutes can pass and we’ll give him his medicine.” I said, trying to be reassuring even though I didn’t even believe what I said.

I watched the clock and him anxiously. My other sons now stood beside us in the nursery.

“Mommy, come downstairs!”
“Mommy, here’s an orange rose for you.”
“Mommy? Mommy? MOMMY!”

I wanted to scream “NOT NOW!” but I knew that would break their hearts. I found all the calmness and togetherness I could and said,

“Oh thank you for the rose boys. I love it! And oh I am SO excited to see what you have done. I am so lucky! But right now I need to take care of #4, okay? I promise I will come down real soon. I love you.”

Darnit. It broke MY heart! My three sons were so proud and excited and I had to put that on hold because of another darn, not understood, unexplainable, yet potentially dangerous seizure.  And the seizure BROKE MY HEART too. Again? Really? I thought we were out of the woods. I was so hopeful. And today? Of all days? (Well today was actually the perfect day because Daddy stayed home late and could help and because it gave me one last chance to practice staying calm!)

3 minutes passed; we administered the medicine. It didn’t work. He continued to seize, his lips now turning blue at the edges; a trip to the Emergency Room was in order. I grabbed some things and we all raced downstairs.

I ran into the kitchen, the beautifully, 110% orange kitchen. Oh how I wanted to stop and enjoy the moment, the celebration of a year’s worth of work. Oh how I wanted to hug my boys and say thank you and it’s wonderful. Oh how I wanted to hug my husband and say it was just the perfect way to start the day. Instead I squeaked out an “It’s great guys, now please, run to the car.”

The oldest two ran; the third insisted on shoes that day of course. And not just crocs, but sneakers. And no he didn’t have socks on. My husband and I were getting antsy as #4 continue seizing but we stayed calm; we both know after a year of not yelling that getting uptight when needing to rush achieves nothing.

We arrived at the hospital. I ran in and got rushed into the Pediatric Emergency Room for oxygen. Twenty minutes later #4 finally woke up (he had fell asleep or passed out at home; I don’t know which one.) At that point my husband had sent me an email with a picture of the kitchen and I burst into tears.

Tears of ANGER. I was SO angry. So very, very angry. Angry at myself – I had bought a video monitor per the neurologist’s suggestion yet forgot to bring it to my desk that morning. What if I had it with me? Would I have seen the seizure earlier? And I was angry at my son’s condition, not him, but his seizures. Why today? Why today? Today was supposed to start with hugs and high fives, not tears and terror. And I was angry with the doctors who still do not agree on the proper medical path to take.

And it turns out, two weeks later, I am still angry. Why? Because we still don’t have a clear path. We still have seizures that are getting worse and we still have two of the top pediatric neurologists in the country disagreeing as to what to do. So yeah, I am ANGRY. I am angry because I love my son and want to help him and right now, it doesn’t feel like I can.

This anger has been eating me up for two weeks now, perhaps longer. And the result? I have not been a pleasant person to be around. I have not been as loving as I wish to be. And my kids, they feel my anger, my stress and they are showing it in their own way and are as expected, more difficult to be around. Which leads me to one conclusion:

There is no upside to anger.

None. Anger does me no good. It doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t help me move forward. It doesn’t help me be more loving and calm and understanding so that I can have a good head on my shoulders to figure things out and feel less angry. It certainly doesn’t help me parent better! Anger just brings me down. Yes, there is a moment for anger. Yes, I know some famous psychologist or something speaks of anger as part of the grieving process. So yes, I am okay with feeling anger, but it’s what I do with it that is really important. I need to let it go so that it doesn’t affect everyone around me, especially those I love dearly.

Anger has been on my mind for months actually, and not just because of the seizures. Looking back at my year of not yelling, I realized that anger is such a huge part of yelling. I have looked up definitions of anger numerous times on this journey to try and write about it but surprise, surprise, I didn’t like any of the definitions. So, I made my own this week:

A.nnoyed
N.egative
G.rumpy
E.xasperated
R.ageful

Those are the five feelings I feel when I am headed towards anger.

I start mildly annoyed (ugh, you didn’t pick up your shoes.) The annoyance grows to negative feelings all around (don’t you ever clean up?) which leads to grumpiness (seriously, can you do nothing right, harrumph, this day is gonna stink), and then exasperation (oh my gosh, how can I get you to pick up your shoes? I don’t know what to do!)

Of course after all these feelings, comes rage followed by a big ‘ole yell! What starts so small and simple as annoyance can so easily lead to negative attitudes, grumpiness, and exasperation and rage. In the past, when I hit rage, or even exasperation, that is when I charged; that is when I charged with my words.

At the start of my challenge someone pointed out to me the most beautifully ironic thing:

theorANGERhinochallenge

Do you see it? Anger is hidden in the name of my challenge. Surreal. It is a complete accident and yet such a wonderful one. Because this challenge, for me, I realize now has been making sure that I don’t let myself ever feel all those 5 feelings at once again. It has been about teaching myself to manage them, so when they come on I can let them go. One by one. The key for me has been to tame the annoyance quickly so that it doesn’t spiral into the following stages; so that it doesn’t become full-blown anger.

I haven’t tamed my annoyance lately and it’s showing. I’m more negative. I’m grumpier. I’m getting exasperated; not just about my son’s medical condition but about my all my sons’ behaviors (acceptable and unacceptable.) And I know what’s next; a big ‘ole, most likely unnecessary, yell.

So, it’s time to let go of my anger. Because again, anger does me not good. Anger at my son’s medical predicament does me no good. Anger at my sons’ for whatever reason does me no good. Anger just leads me to yelling and that is not a path I wish to take again. There is no upside to anger; and there certainly is no upside to yelling.

End Note: I ended up having a great day. I got to snuggle with little man all day and still celebrate with my boys. All 5 of them. Daddy stayed home because of the seizure so it turned out to be a family day…even better! 

*
To read related posts to my son’s medical situation click on the links below!
Waiting to Exhale
Waiting to Exhale, Part 2
Code Orange Rhino
A Time to Yell

What’s Next Orange Rhino?

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6

372 days of loving more!

Last Wednesday I wanted to celebrate my 365 days without yelling by doing something fun with my boys. I decided on cake (what’s a celebration without cake?!) and releasing 12 orange balloons into the sky. The key? My boys and I were all going to run and SCREAM “WE DID IT!” at the top of our lungs while we let go of the balloons.

I was lucky enough to have my neighbor take some pictures to commemorate the moment. I didn’t think to video tape the scene which actually worked out fine. I couldn’t scream. I kid you not. I went to scream and it felt awkward. I was scared to. I couldn’t believe it. See that’s the thing. I think I have come to realize over the past year that more so than being a yeller, I was a screamer; a real screamer. I so disliked that part of myself that it seems my voice no longer goes there. It was an out-of-body experience to not be able to scream. But it was also really cool.

RELEASE! Letting balloons go to celebrate officially letting go of yelling! What a RELIEF!

We released the balloons and then stopped. They were stuck. My poor planning had me running towards a bunch of trees. DUH. The balloons had no where to go but the branches. Which actually was very symbolic. Here I was releasing the balloons, much like I used to release my frustration my yelling, much like I have released my old yelling self, and they, much like me, got stuck. When I first tried to stop yelling, I didn’t know what to do instead so I felt stuck. And now that I am a so-called non-yeller, I don’t know what to do with myself or the blog, and I am stuck.

I had been plagued with he question of “What now?” as my year started coming to a close. And here I was, my 365 days challenge over, still wondering, “but what now?!” Am I done? Is the blog over? Do I start yelling again? I was stuck. I didn’t know my next step and so it was apropos that the balloons also, were stuck.

One by one they released. And as they released and flew higher and higher away, I heard my eldest son, my sensitive one, crying louder and louder.

“Oh my gosh, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you sad your balloon is gone?”

“No. I mean yeah, but no.”

“Well what then?” I asked nervously.

“I don’t want your blog to be over. It can’t be over. I don’t want you to start yelling again. I didn’t like that mommy.”

Oh. My. Gosh. I love this child!!! (And all the other ones too of course; he is just the oldest and most aware at this point!)

“Oh sweetie, don’t worry, mommy isn’t going to start yelling again!!!”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.” I said.

“Okay, well good. Can we go eat cake now?”

“Of course.” I quickly answered; agreeing to cake is easy peasy!

And off we went to stuff our face with frosting, I mean cake! As we walked inside the last balloons struggled free and went into the sky. They were unstuck and so was I. I knew after talking to my son that my blog must go on. A conversation with my four year old over cake confirmed it.

“Mommy, now that you’re done with the blog you have to do it again and again until you turn, um, 60. And if you need to, ya know, blow a bubble and then do a push up.”

“Oh I see. And why is that? Do you like Orange Rhino Mommy?”

“Oh yes. Because when you get mad at your kids its not nice to yell at them so you should stay never yelling so you should stay on the orange rhino blog forever.”

Forever.

Okay, I don’t know if I am going to blog forever or until I am 60, but I do know that I am going to try and go another year. Not just because my kids give me good reason, not just because you all have given me good reasons, not just because I want to, but because I need to do it for me.

I need to make sure that this habit of mine, the yelling one, is gone. I need to make sure that I can continue to not yell even without the 365 days goal to inspire me. I need to make sure that I really have changed and that I really am no longer a yeller. Just because it has gotten easier to not yell, and just because I have gone 365 days, doesn’t guarantee that this year will be smooth sailing. Bad habits die hard they say AND they take constant vigilance and attention in order to make sure they don’t come back. I need this year of continued vigilance to help keep my “no yelling” at bay.

And besides, every year, life throws different challenges at you. Sure, I made it through is past year without yelling, but the true test will be this year when I get a whole new set of challenges and the “honeymoon” of my new habit wears off. Already I am seeing myself be tested. I am prevailing because what I learned in year one but clearly, the opportunity exists to keep learning.

And I welcome that. Learning is good. I will still blog and keep the page going for another year. That is indeed my goal. I will focus a lot more on personal triggers and how to manage them in order to be in a good place, a non-stuck place, so that I remain calm and happy and therefore patient enough and in control enough to not yell. There is indeed so much more to learn in order to keep yelling away!

I have always said learning to yell less is a process, and my process is still going. I don’t anticipate yelling again. I do hope though that I can learn to be less snappy and less grouchy on days like today when the stress is through the roof. In this case I should write through the rotten, moldy black floor that is now a hole in my house. But I digress. Because while I didn’t yell today, I wasn’t as pleasant a mom as I know I can be. And I would like to see more pleasant days this year. So I am going to keep working. Am I trying to be perfect? NOT AT ALL. Because if there is one thing I learned this year, it’s to love myself, to forgive myself and to let go of perfect. I am not a robot. I make mistakes. I can be grouchy. My goal is just to have more of the not-grouchy and to tell myself on those days when I am grouchy despite my best efforts that “hey, it’s okay, you tried your hardest, keep it up.”

Keep it Up.

Yes, I will keep this blogging thing up. I will keep this not yelling thing up, and I will keep this being part of  The Orange Rhino Community “up” because all three things are bringing goodness to my life that I am not ready to let go of! Balloons I can release; these three things, not so much.

Motherhood and Mixed Emotions

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371 days of loving more!

Ironically, not 3 minutes before writing this post, I was talking about oxymorons, specifically “clean messes.” with my sons. Little did I know I would soon be in a “happy sad” place and then would experience a whole other set of motherhood oxymorons. Yes, motherhood is full of mixed emotions and many happen at the same time. It’s ugly and beautiful all at once. 

I just dropped my six and a half year old off at a gym class.

To be clear, I didn’t want to add another activity to his full schedule of school, swim, occupational and speech therapy. But he so desperately wanted to do a sports class and I figured, it would be really good for his social shyness and besides, how bad could it be?
I should have asked myself, how hard could it be?
Because, oh, it was SO hard for me!

I want that forty-five minutes with him around me. I know next year he will be in school all day. I am not ready for that. I want to keep him around me as much as I can. I want him to grow up, but in some ways, I really don’t.

I watch him run into the class, greeted by two new friends. One eagerly screams his name. My son smiles bigger than he ever has. He used to be so shy, so very shy and now he is so eager to meet and make new friends. He has come so far I think, but sometimes he still shrinks into his shell, he is still vulnerable. I feel proud and scared all at once.Oh, please be nice to be baby I think. Please treat him well. Please don’t say mean things to him. Please don’t tease him when he says his “r” wrong. Please don’t laugh at him when he jumps at the sound of a popping balloon. Don’t do anything but love him the way I do, okay?

I watch him stand side by side with Connor. I think that is his name. My son is just so excited to be liked and welcomed that he screams his new friend’s name in an unintelligible manner. He whispers something to Connor. Clearly a six-year-old secret, clearly one not meant for me. I get different kind of whispers, the “I love you” one’s, but now my son has other whispers for other people. I am not his main squeeze anymore, I think. But oh, good for him! I am happy and sad all at once.

Oh, please laugh at his joke I think. Please tell him you think he is funny, please tell him he is smart, please tell him he is awesome. Please tell him all the things I would be if I had him home with me during these forty-five minutes. Don’t say anything but things to make him smile and feel confident in himself, okay?

I watch him stand alone for a second. Connor and Jack have run off together. They are best friends, neighbors perhaps? They clearly have known each other for a while. My son stands, clearly pondering his next move. I recognize the uncertainty – after all he is my emotional twin. Do I follow them? Do I stand here and wait for them to call my name? Do I find someone else to run around and scream with? He makes a decision best for him at that moment; listening to his teacher who says sit down in circle time! Good move, I think. I feel relieved and unsure all at once.

Oh so relieved that he didn’t have to walk over and be rejected. Oh please I think. Please, will someone guarantee to me that my son will never be rejected like I sometimes was as a child, as an adult. It doesn’t feel good. It feels awful actually. Please let no one ever tell him to “go away, you aren’t cool enough.” Don’t ever let that happen to my sensitive son, okay?

I watch him say to Connor as he saunters over to the circle, “Hey, sit next to me.” Connor isn’t paying attention anymore. He has completely moved on to Jack. They grab each other and fall down into the circle laughing. My son gets up and immediately moves to be next to Connor. Connor doesn’t even notice. My son seems happy though, so it is okay. He knows what makes him happy; I know that he needs to learn the ropes for making friends on his own. He needs to learn by himself about keeping the good and tossing the bad. I feel nervous and angry all at once.

Oh please, say “yeah I’ll sit next to you!” I think. Please look at my son and acknowledge that he is there. Please talk to him and your other friend I think. Please include him. Just include him. Don’t exclude him. Please be nice and thoughtful; please don’t be unknowingly hurtful. My son has come such a long way, his self-confidence is FINALLY blossoming, please help it grow. Please do not squash it. Don’t say anything that could make him think he isn’t good enough, cool enough, smart enough, fast enough, okay?

I watch Jack and Connor start acting out and then start encouraging my son to misbehave too. My son wiggles and squirms and clearly wants to join in the mischief but also clearly knows he shouldn’t. Oh is he conflicted – he so wants to be included, but he so also wants to be good. I feel encouraged and frustrated all at once.

Oh please, please don’t be a bad influence on my son. Please, just teach him the good things: how to be a good friend, how to be a good student, how to be a good neighbor, how to be a good brother and son. Please don’t teach him any of the other junk; unless it is to teach him that the junk in life is bad and you don’t need it. And please, do not peer pressure my son into doing anything he doesn’t want to do.

Because I am not there to protect him, to help him. I mean I am, but I am not.

I watch him for a second more and realize that even though I want to stay and watch and mentally protect him for the entire forty-five minutes I need to walk away. I need to let go and let  him grow on his own. I need to let him make new friends. I can be his “Love Bug” and he can be my “Boo” but he needs to have other people in his life too. I can love him, make him smile, hold him when he cries, teach him when he is lost, encourage him when he is down, and I can make him happy. But other people can make him happy too; other people can help him learn about himself too, directly or indirectly. And I need to let that happen so he can grow. I need to let go a little bit. Oh, it is so bittersweet.

End note: My son did enjoy the class. He scored three goals and that mattered to him more than the fact that Connor and Jack left laughing together without saying goodbye to him. Then again, he was so caught up in feeling proud of himself (as he should, he couldn’t really “play” sports a year ago before occupational therapy) that he didn’t say goodbye either. I think the class was worth it. But still, ouch! It hurt mommy’s heart letting go! 

Coincidence or Conspiracy?

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Dear Orange Rhino Community,

I had the honor of being interviewed for a newspaper article recently. I don’t know when the article will publish, but I know this. I loved telling my story about The Orange Rhino Challenge. I loved the chance to stop and realize how much not yelling has really benefited me in so many ways beyond my parenting.  And I loved sharing about the incredible Orange Rhino community.

Talking about The Orange Rhino Challenge always gets me going – in a really good way. One of my favorite questions that got me all fired up because the answer still shocks me is: have you ever wanted to just scream your head off and quit? And if so, what happened?

My short answer? Oh yes, of course! Lots of times. It is hard work not yelling especially on the really hard days but miraculously every single time, truly every single time I hit my breaking point, someone surprised me with the most perfect, supportive gesture at the most perfect time. It’s surreal. There is a quote that goes something like “when you have a dream and believe in it, people conspire to make it happen.” I have proved this quote true to be true and that is what I have loved so much about The Orange Rhino Challenge. It is moms and dads, mostly strangers, helping each other to make dreams of being a better parent happen. It’s just been an amazing, very touching journey.

My long answer? It turns out the real quote by Paulo Coelho goes:
“When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize this dream.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes! There have been many times when I wanted to just quit, but you all didn’t let me. Knowingly, or unknowingly, you all conspired to not let me quit when I wanted to.

I remember clear as yesterday the time I was driving up the hill around the corner from my house. I was talking to my mom, no bawling to my mom, saying “I just don’t think I can do this. It is so hard and exhausting and I just want to quit. I love writing but it stresses me out too because I feel so vulnerable after I share some of more personal stuff. Why did I make this promise? If I quit I’ll just let myself down and more so my boys so I can’t quit but oh I want to so badly. Mom….what am I supposed to do?” She of course said that I can do anything I put my mind to, that I couldn’t quit and to just give it one more day.

I came home to a surprise package from an Orange Rhino. The most beautiful note was inside as was this adorable Carter’s Orange Rhino sweatshirt. I mean really, Carter’s had orange rhinos on their clothes when I had my challenge going? What are the chances? I felt the world was sending me a message: don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. You’re onto something. Believe in yourself. Be an Orange Rhino!

And then there was the time when I was so overwhelmed with my to-do list that I couldn’t get a grip and I just wanted to scream at my kids. And voila! a college-ruled note pad showed up at my door in honor of one of my posts. My spirit lifted and I finally started chipping away at my list and the stress on my shoulder. I survived another day without yelling.

And I could go on and on about the most beautiful, gracious, thoughtful emails I have received from all of you thanking me for sharing. What you don’t realize is that every single one of those emails LITERALLY came when I was at my weakest. It was uncanny, really. I would be minutes away from writing my “this is my last post, I have had enough” post and one of you would send me a message that gave me strength and hope and I kept going. So really, I should be thanking you, not vice versa! And I should be thanking you for every time you read something I wrote, shared something, commented or even just liked my page. Your interest kept me up, reminded me that I was not alone, and pushed me through the day.

As does this little keychain. I’ll never forget the day I was so exhausted I dropped to the floor in tears and later on one of you messaged me about this awesome key chain. It was the only orange rhino and you said I must get it. Again, what are the chances of there being an orange rhino out there? Or even a friend finding an orange rhino butter dish to give to me? And what are the chances that the year I launch my blog orange would be the “it” color and everywhere I went I would see orange? And what are the chances that there would be a huge 10′ rhino statue where we went away for Mother’s Day? I mean really. Rhinos became cool this year. Coincidence?

Some people say you see what you want to see. That you can call all this perfect timing and perfect placement a coincidence. But it’s not.  It’s a conspiracy, a really powerful and awesome one. This year I have felt the world, all of you, conspiring to help me and well shoot, I am sitting here writing this with tears in my eyes.

I have changed this past year. I have grown up. I have opened up. I have found me again. I have found a more loving, patient and understanding relationship with my kids and I just feel really blessed to have had so much love and support. I am so grateful that I had a dream and the universe did indeed conspire to make it happen!

I have 6 days left on my Orange Rhino Challenge. My son asked me today what I was going to do to celebrate. He said I should bring a bunch of animals to our yard and paint them orange… and…(more importantly) that I should thank everyone.

The thing is, saying thank you just doesn’t even seem strong enough, but it’s a start.

THANK YOU.

Sincerely,
The Orange Rhino

 

“It’s not you…it’s me.”

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349 days of not yelling, 16 days of loving more to go!

Dear Mike T.,

I apologize for how I broke up with you years ago. It was just a wee bit insensitive especially given how well you treated me. When that fortune cookie read “Friendship is the greatest gift” I just felt it was the perfect time to tell you that we were meant to be friends. It was just easier to say “It’s not you, it’s me” than to say the truth (that it was you). Ironically, twelve years later, now that I am a married mom with four kids, it is incredibly hard to say “it’s not you, it’s me.”  Anyway, I started this Orange Rhino Challenge 350ish days ago and have learned on my journey about looking at me and telling the truth and I keep thinking of you and our breakup. And I just wanted to say sorry.

I hope you are well, you deserve the very best,
The Orange Rhino

*

It was May 2001. I had been dating Mike for about four months. He was a great guy with a great career. By day he worked in advertising, by night and weekends he was a volunteer EMT. He drove hours with me to meet my mom once and he rescued me from a drunk man hitting on me on Cinco de Mayo. He really was a great guy but in the end, he felt more like a friend than a potential serious boyfriend. So I dumped him. I told him all sorts of lines (lies!) that seemed easy at the time. I told him I didn’t want to be in a serious relationship. Eh hem. I met my husband two weeks later!

But the line that I still remember saying most clearly was “It’s not you, it’s me.” That was so easy to say at the time. It felt right even though it was a LIE. It felt easy to lie.

And now as a mom, as a person who has focused on figuring out how to not yell for the last year, it is INCREDIBLY HARD to say “it’s not you, it’s me.” Because that is the truth.  If there is one thing I have learned ever so clearly on this journey it is that I often yelled at my boys not because of them, but because of me.

It’s not you I am mad at … it’s me. I am mad at myself for running late.
It’s not you I am angry with … it’s me. I am angry with your father for something he said.
It’s not you I am frustrated with…it’s me. I am frustrated with the insurance agency for not paying our bills.

Oh the list goes on and on and on. And just like I still feel a twinge of pain for lying to Mike twelve years ago, I still feel a twinge of pain for lying to my kids all the years I yelled at them. I still feel a twinge of pain for yelling at them for something that wasn’t their fault. I still feel a twinge of pain for yelling at them when the fault was my mood, my environment, my stress, my issues.

And right now, this day, that twinge is HUGE. Last Friday, I didn’t yell but I snapped A LOT more than I like (even if within my “rules”) all because of my issues. Right now, all my snapping is entirely because of me and I don’t like to admit that. I don’t want to tell the truth. I don’t want to say to my kids,

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. You are being great today. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Because WELL I don’t want to admit that I have issues right now. It would be so much easier to yell at my kids than it would be to admit that I am struggling. Oh, but am I struggling! My struggles are big and real and ugly and painful. I don’t want to look at me right now, I want to blame someone else. I don’t want my feelings to be real, so instead I am tempted to take my anger out on the real people in front of me; the people I really love. Because while that would be uncomfortable, it would be more comfortable than dealing with me, with my issues.

For the past twelve or more years I took some really ugly skeletons and I shoved them in a box. I tied that box up so beautifully even Martha Stewart would be proud. No, she would be more than proud. She would be envious. But now, for various reasons, it is time to unwrap that box. And it has my soul rattled. It has me rattled. It has me sad and upset and overwhelmed and more. And I want to lash out. I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

In the old days, I would have yelled at my kids without thinking twice. Shoot, I’d have laryngitis by now. I would have yelled at them for anything and everything. But now, I can’t. I WON’T. Because my kids deserve better. Because I love them so. They deserve my love, not my wrath. And so I am struggling. Because when life is stressful and ugly it is hard to own it; it is easier to be nasty to anything in sight. It is hard to not yell BUT it would be harder to deal with the emotional aftermath if I did.

So I will keep saying the line that I so easily said twelve years ago…even if it is hard. Every time my anger tries to unwrap itself and tries to peak out at my kids, I will think to myself “It’s not you, it’s me.”

And then I will hug my kiddos because that truly is the most comforting thing in the world.

* Don’t worry about me. I will be fine. I just needed to write this. I debated not sharing it BUT so many people have dared to share hard stuff with me that I felt it was safe to do the same. Seriously, no worrying about me!!! Go hug your kiddos instead. And then laugh with me. I mean really. I have worked hard for 350 days to not yell and I have to be tested in the most ridiculous way the last 15?! Seriously, it is kind of funny! See, just writing and I feel better already!

Help a mother out…

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343 days without yelling, 22 days of loving more to go!

Dear sesame seed bagel,
I think I blame you for my near catastrophic yell last week. But I also thank you for reminding me about how important it is to help a mother out, any mother out.
Cheers,
The Orange Rhino

*

It was T-100 minutes until I took sweet son #4 into New York City to meet a third neurologist. I was anxious. A.N.X.I.O.U.S. and all my boys sensed it. I decided that a huge Diet Coke and a fresh toasted sesame seed bagel with chive cream cheese would help ease my nerves. So I buckled all the kids into the mini-van and headed to the bagel store at 6:45 in the morning.

I was pleased with my decision. I was pleased with my managing my emotions and determining what I needed to feel better, what I needed to stay cool, calm, and collected.

My boys, however, WERE NOT pleased. Normally they love the morning car rides. We talk about the weather, what songs we like, how diggers are made, how much I love them. But oh no. Not this morning. This morning they wanted to talk about how much they hated car rides. How much they hated each other. How much they hated that #4 would spend all day with me, alone, and they would have to spend the day shuffled between two babysitters. Oh, and why couldn’t daddy be home to help instead of traveling? They didn’t want me. They wanted daddy. In fact, they wanted nothing to do with me or the bagel store or having a pleasant morning. In fact, I think they wanted to see if I would lose it. Honestly.

Yes, last Thursday morning not one person in my household was happy go lucky. We were the cranky bunch. I knew I needed to stay calm. I knew I wanted to stay calm. But as we parked the car and the screaming continued, I knew I was about to lose it. I knew the likelihood of a massive meltdown from EVERY SINGLE BOY was huge. So I found my eerily quiet, soothing voice and tried to be uber positive and loving as we headed into the store.

“Oh, #2 thank you for unbuckling your brother.”
“#1, you are so strong, thank you for holding the door.”
“#3 you are being so patient. Thank you!”

Yes, I was pulling out all sorts of praise out of every orifice I had to try to make them feel loved; to try and make myself feel like an okay mom. Because at that moment, I SO wasn’t feeling it. I was feeling guilty for spending so much time lately with #4. I was feeling ridiculous for dragging them to town just for a bagel. I was feeling crappy for being cranky with my boys just because I was nervous. I was feeling sad that I snapped at my boys on a morning when they were just nervous too, on a morning when they needed my re-assurance that #4 was going to be okay. Ugh. I was just having one of those mommy mornings where I felt like I was crap and just wanted to cry.

Yes, I just wanted to sit down in the middle of the bagel store and cry. Oh, and I just wanted to boys to sit the blankety-blank down in their chairs and be quiet. Just for five seconds. That was all I needed.

Then I heard a voice. The most beautiful voice.

“You know, you are a great mom. You are being so patient and loving. I wish I saw that more. Your boys are lucky.”

WOW. Did my mystery angel KNOW that I needed that reassurance right then? Did she see through my mommy clothes and into my heart? Did she have super powers and know that I was about to go ape-sh*t in the middle of the store?

“Wow. Thank you so much.” At this point tears started forming in my eyes. I couldn’t help it. I felt so alone and nervous and frustrated and impatient at that moment. I was trying so hard to keep it together and not yell despite my personal angst, yet I was slowly unraveling.

I continued, wiping a tear away. “You don’t know how much that means. I had a rough morning and well, thank you. Thank you. You made my day. Truly.”

And she did. She MADE MY DAY. I remember writing a post last August about a stranger needing a friend and how I became that friend. Ironically, it was at the same exact bagel store as I was in last Thursday. That post could have been about me. I needed a friend. I needed some support. I needed to know that it was okay, that I was doing a good job. I needed that woman in my life at that moment.

And guess what? As moms, as parents, as people, we all need to be told we are doing a good job. Especially when we least expect it. Especially when we are struggling. That woman took 30 seconds to pay me a compliment. It was the best gift ever. She gave me STRENGTH to keep parenting with love, she gave me strength to not yell. It may sound silly, but she saved my Orange Rhino Challenge that morning. And I am grateful. So grateful.

It doesn’t take much to compliment a struggling parent. Or to reassure them. In fact it takes less than 30 seconds but can impact that parent all day. Trust me. I know. I experienced it. And I have been paying it forward every day since. Every day since last Thursday I have told a struggling mom that I think they are doing a great job. And I have always received a warm, “really?” but “oh my gosh thank you I needed that” smile.

So is this post a post about learning not to yell? Not really. But what it is about helping others and perhaps unintentionally helping them to not yell at a particularly tough moment. And that to me is important. Because you just NEVER know when you are going to need the favor returned.

So go ahead. Share this story. Tell your friends they are good moms. Tell a stranger tomorrow she is a good mom when she is trying her hardest to hush her crying baby in the middle of the coffee store. You won’t regret it. And she won’t forget it. 

Peace & Love to you, from me

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320 days without yelling, 45 days of loving more to go!

Dear Orange Rhinos,

Season’s Greetings! Every December I sit down and write a holiday letter to my family and friends so it only makes sense that I should write one to you since you are like family and friends to me!

Every year I dread writing the letter because it is one more thing to do. Yet, I always enjoy the time to reflect upon the year as I quickly realize what a great year it has been, how blessed I feel despite any of the downs that year. And this year, well, we know it’s been full of downs. It’s had more health scares and stresses than years past. It has actually been one of the hardest adult years I can think of. Alzheimers. Cancer. Epilepsy scares. My personal health concerns. Challenges with the boys. Hurricane Sandy. Newtown. Oh, it has been an emotionally draining year. And it would be so easy to say “let’s just get this year over with and move on to 2013.” But instead, I feel grateful for 2012. I see the beauty that is my children, my friends, my husband, and The Orange Rhino Community. Yes, The Orange Rhino Community.

You all have made the downs of this year feel “okay,” feel manageable. You all gave me a place to be me, free of judgment. You all gave me a place to share my joy, my struggles, my tears. You all have helped me achieve my goal and grow into a different, more loving, calm, happy mom, person. Oh you all have given me the greatest gifts this year. Thank you.

You all have helped me bring more peace to my home, more love to my boys. Thank you. I truly wish I could send you each one of our Christmas cards to show my appreciation, to show you how much I do treasure our community. But alas, I don’t have your addresses. So instead let me share it!

The boys, yes, the boys, demanded that they wear matching orange shirts on Thanksgiving and that mommy and daddy oblige as well. We actually got a fabulous family picture but it is, um, obnoxiously orange! 6 people in orange is a lot. A LOT! But, OH I love it! And I love that the only card I could find that went with orange had the words PEACE & LOVE stamped across the top.

Warning. May need sunglasses to look at this image!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace and Love. Perfection. The perfect words to summarize this year.

I wrote in my other letter, “we feel blessed to have found much peace, love, and gratitude in our hearts this year. Sometimes these things are hard to find; MY holiday wish for you is that they find you in abundance today, 2013, and beyond.”

And that is my wish for you as well. And more.

So often when I receive our holiday cards I focus on the pictures. I ooh and aah and think “how adorable” or “oh how I miss them.” Sometimes I look at the words, but mostly I glaze over them. The words, the warm wishes, they are used so often this time of year that they seem a mere add-on; they can be missed. But it is the words that are perhaps more important than the pictures. It is the words, the messages that this world needs; it is the words that WE need, our children need.

And so I wish for you that every single world printed on your holiday cards, whether in bold or cursive, obnoxious orange or gold comes true to you this year, and beyond. I wish for you that amidst the crazy end of the year, the craziness of parenting, that you are able to embrace these words and bring them into your life, because you deserve all of it.

Peace. Love. Joy. Hope. Comfort. Family. Warmth. Happy Everything. Cheer. Blessings. Hugs. Prosperity.

Much Peace & Love,
The Orange Rhino