“Do you really want to know?” I asked back.

“Not really, no, but…ok, fine. Go ahead. What’s up.”

“Well…I was just googling some stuff for The Orange Rhino. And stumbled upon an article from that person that copied a lot of what I did…and then publicly bashed me. And I am just fuming. Absolutely fuming. I am frustrated that I can’t let it go. It bothers me that all these years later and I still let this get to me. Harumph.”

He sighed with me. He’s a great kid – love him to pieces. Are you ready for this wisdom? This is my silver lining kiddo.

“Mom, the past is the past. She copied The Orange Rhino ideas because she liked them. Compliment to you. And besides the past doesn’t matter now because you are focusing on not yelling at teens and that’s new stuff!”

(Yes, yes it is my dear. A whole lot of new stuff and a whole new level of patience!)

“Okay, but I haven’t totally figured it out yet. The whole not yelling at you teens.” I stated.

“No, no you haven’t! But you are improving. You are way better than last year. Look, I am sitting in the front seat actually talking to you now. See, progress! AND I am not wearing my headphones, I actually listened to you when you said it was rude to do so during a conversation.” He shared proudly, loving having an “adult” like conversation with me.

“Okay then Mr. Teenager. What is the secret to not yelling at teens? What did I do right? Enlighten me so I can share?”

“Oh, it is simple. Really simple. Leave us alone. Give us more space. Let us try things. Don’t lecture so much. Don’t nag. It’s okay if we screw up. Only start lecturing and reeling us back in when we are doing really stupid things. Like really stupid.” He stated matter of factly. Like it was that simple.

“Okay, makes sense. Gotcha. But what happens when you are, I don’t know, doing a lot of really stupid things, a lot of the time? Then what? Then I will need to step in more and that is certain to piss you off. Which will probably make things tough between us and I will probably feel like yelling again out of frustration. So, how do I handle that situation?” I asked, kinda afraid (in a good way) of the answer because of his silver linings and insights.

“Well, yes, yep that will definitely annoy the heck out of me. I will probably be rude. Nope. Definitely will be rude. But that’s on me I guess. Just don’t yell. It won’t help. And I will just put my headphones on and not listen anyways. So I guess, the answer to all of this mom? The best way to not yell at teens? Just don’t do it. It’s useless.” Again, stated as if it is that simple.

But maybe it was that simple?
There is a whole lot of truth in his statements.
I trusted him more.
Gave him more space.
More responsibility.

I removed some rules and put in some boundaries and said when the boundaries are broken, the rules and my being more present return.

Do we both still yell? Yes – we both still get moody and we are both still human!

But the interactions are way less intense, shorter and he genuinely apologizes after. It is progress as he says, and progress is the goal. I mean look where progress got us – to a conversation in the front seats of my uber cool minivan!

And, he is right. Yelling doesn’t work – kids literally don’t hear us when we yell.
It achieves nothing.
They tune us out and teens – they especially tune it out. 

And not only do they tune us out, they then get more pissed at us and put up a wall to tune us out even more the next time we yell or even talk. There isn’t much upside to yelling. It kind of is that simple. That easy to just not yell? No. But remembering that it doesn’t work is a simple, helpful tool.

There are a few other things I did that he doesn’t see…

When he really gets going and rudely starts up, I walk away and dis-engage after I state calmly and without emotion, “I want to talk to you and hear what you have to say, but I will not be spoken to that way.” (His feelings do matter, I don’t want to shut them out. I am not walking away from him or his feelings, just the disrespectful behavior. Which we always address later when we are both calm.)

When he is frustrated with me for whatever I did, even if that is just breathing, I state, “I am here if you want” and again, walk away and don’t wait for a reaction.

I do random acts of kindness for him to remind him I love him and positively build our connection during good times (like make him hot chocolate for when he is studying.)

I joke around with him and get him to laugh with me and even at me. These moments are some of the best and have really strengthened our relationship. When he rolls his eyes at my intentionally bad jokes or bad dancing or bad singing, they are his silent way of admitting he loves me.Eye rolls aren’t always bad!

I stopped focusing on the bad behaviors he was demonstrating and focus more on the good kiddo I know he is.

And, I remind myself that this is a hard time for both of us and that in a couple of years he is off to college and I want these years to be more positive than negative – and that means (amongst a lot of things) working hard to not yell, even when frustrated.

(c) The Orange Rhino 2023

Unfortunately, before I started my Orange Rhino Challenge to go 365 days straight without yelling at my four boys, then ages five and under, the “Not-so-Great” Thanksgiving of 2010 happened. Oh how I wish that I decided to teach myself to “Yell Less, Love More” before that turkey day for then this story wouldn’t still be stuck in my memory because it wouldn’t have happened in the first place! Nope, all the lessons I learned on my 520 days straight of not yelling would have come in to place and prevented me from ruining that Thanksgiving with my relentless yelling. Sigh. Oh well. Here’s how it went down, literally.

* * * * *

I don’t like turkey.
Or cranberry sauce.
Or any of the foods that one typically serves on Thanksgiving for that matter.

Except well, for the white stuff: bread, butter, mashed potatoes, and more butter! But I love Thanksgiving Day. I love making a big, roaring fire and then cuddling up with my boys to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I love “oohing and ahhing” over all the floats together and sharing stories with my boys about when I was a kid and couldn’t wait to watch the Parade. I love sitting down to eat and first having cranberry juice with rainbow sherbet and telling my boys that this is a tradition passed down from my great-grandmother.

Oh, there is just so much to love on Thanksgiving Day.
And yet, I hated Thanksgiving 2010 because I ruined it.

I ruined it by yelling, big-time. Over a picture. A freakin’ picture. Seriously?! Yes, seriously. As soon as the parade wrapped up, I deemed that it was therefore the perfect time for the annual “Let’s watch Mom jump up and down and act like a clown to make us smile” holiday card photo shoot. Yes, of course, trying to get James, Edward, and Andrew, then ages, four, three, and one, to sit still and cooperate—after they had just been sitting peacefully and quietly for an hour and just wanted to run outside and play—was the perfect time to ask them to sit still, again. And smile. And keep their hands to themselves. And try to be patient with my constant requests for, “Just one more picture, please?” I knew at the time that I was pushing my luck, given the circumstances and their ages, but yet I still pushed.

As expected, given my picture-taking history, my boys whined when I told them it was picture time. As I geared up to corral them into the living room (and to start offering bribes galore), Andrew took off as usual and ran into—of all rooms—the living room. He jumped onto the couch, laughing hysterically as he crashed into the pillows. James and Edward of course followed suit and all three boys started laughing and tickling each other and having a grand old time. So much so that, when I shouted, “Hey, look at me!” they didn’t realize I had just taken a picture. It was, and still is, one of my favorite pictures in the entire world. The happiness. The love. The joy. The smiles. It melted my heart.

So you think I would have stopped right then, right?
No more pictures needed, right?!
Wrong.

Who needs the “perfect” picture when priceless pictures like this exist?!

I wanted to make sure that I had the best picture. The perfect picture. I wanted to see if I could do better, even though I felt I had just been delivered a miracle. I got greedy, really, really greedy, and I asked, “One more picture, please?” They acquiesced for a few minutes, but understandably soon grew tired of my never-ending demands to sit still and smile. They had behaved wonderfully and cooperatively for so long; now they were done. They had reached their limit and started squirming, whining, pinching each other, and refusing to cooperate. So I started yelling. And I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop because I so badly wanted the perfect picture and I thought that yelling would force them to behave.

“Sit still!” I barked.
“Just one more! Be good!” I whined.
“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO THIS FOR ME?!” I yelled.
And my famous, or rather infamous, Thanksgiving 2010 line:

“It’s Thanksgiving, for cripe’s sake! I would be so grateful for just one good picture. PLEASE! Just smile!” I screamed.

The more I yelled, the more they cried. The more they cried, the worse the pictures were, so the more I yelled. Finally, I gave up and said ever so shamefully and nastily, “That’s it! I have had it. All I wanted was a picture. Thanks for nothing.”

James, Edward, and Andrew then promptly ran out of the room, crying to Daddy and the grandmas. James screamed, “Mommy’s a meany.” Edward sobbed, “I don’t like her.” Andrew just cried and cried, clearly scared by how loud and nasty my voice had gotten. And I went to the bathroom and also cried and cried, feeling all the same thoughts as my kids. I pouted the rest of the day as I felt so mortified and ashamed that I had screamed at my young children for behaving well; ashamed that I had unnecessarily taken my own problem with perfection out on them.

I couldn’t look any of the other adults in the eye for the rest of the day. I felt so sad that my need for the perfect picture pushed me to lose it so horrifically. My guilt and shame then kept me from enjoying the holiday. Thanksgiving is one of the days where I often feel nothing but love, and yet, that year, that year I couldn’t feel it because I had yelled to the point where all I felt was hatred for myself.

The sad thing is, that Thanksgiving wasn’t the only time I felt such anger at myself for yelling at my kids over trying to get a picture. Nope, it had happened many times before. And while I sit here wanting to write that it’s all just because I am a perfectionist and seek perfection in everything I do, that’s a partial cop-out. It goes deeper than that.

Yes, yes, I seek the perfect picture of all my boys looking at the camera, smiling flawlessly and not picking their noses. But it’s not just because I am a perfectionist; it’s also because I am insecure. Oftentimes in life, I seek comfort, confidence, and reassurance that I am living a happy, good life, that I am doing good at this parenting thing, that I have happy children. And well, whenever I feel that way, I find that looking at pictures soothes my insecurities and proves to me that I am doing okay.

If I feel frustrated and down and overwhelmed by the challenges of parenting, I can look at that “perfect” picture and look straight into those gorgeous twinkling eyes and remember that it is all worth it, that my kids are happy and it’s worth the work. If I find myself feeling sad that life is passing by too fast, my kids are growing up too fast, and I feel I have missed out, I can look at that “perfect” picture and remember: no, I didn’t miss it, I was right there and it was wonderful. And if I feel stressed about life in general, then looking at pictures of my family having fun, enjoying a special vacation, enjoying a special holiday, enjoying each other helps soothe my negative mood and move me to a more positive, grateful, happy, and definitely less stressed place.

Pictures bring me comfort by helping me feel secure in this world, and rightfully or wrongfully, I rely on them for this. That is the real reason I push for perfect pictures. I don’t refrain from yelling at my kids during picture time because I want the most beautiful picture ever; it’s because I am afraid that if I don’t get that picture, then I won’t have something to look at when I need it most. I yell at them because of me, because of my insecurities, not because of them and their inability to sit still longer than children their age should.

The Orange Rhino Challenge and all the trigger digging I did helped me to see the real reason I yelled. And by default, it helped me let go and chill out during picture time. Now when I find myself struggling to not yell at my kids when I desperately want a picture, I say to myself,

“Hey, just relax. You’ll get what you get. Don’t push it or you won’t get a thing expect crying kids, an upset you, and therefore a bad picture and a more upset you. It’s not worth it! (Yelling doesn’t work, it just makes things worse!) Remember, it’s not them you are frustrated with; it’s you. They are doing fine, you are causing the stress. Chill out. Just chill out. Remember, the goal isn’t the perfect picture. It’s enjoying the moment. Don’t ruin it by yelling.”

I can happily say that I now enjoy those special moments in my life even more than before because my plight for perfection and my instinct to yell aren’t dampening them. Do I still struggle and have to push myself to let go of perfection at times? Yes. Do I still struggle and have to push myself to “Yell Less, Love More” during trying times? Yes. I am the Orange Rhino, but I am not perfect! But I struggle a lot less and for that I will jump up and down, act like a clown, and do all sorts of crazy things to make me smile and feel good about my progress. Because of all the things I have learned on my Orange Rhino Challenge to Yell Less + L.O.V.E. More, one most definitely is this: the goal is not about perfection; it’s about progress.

And I am making progress, I am yelling less and loving more, and that is what matters to me more than perfection.

This story is from my  book, “Yell Less, Love More: How The Orange Rhino Mom Stopped Yelling at Her Kids­–and How You Can Too!” Part parenting guide, part memoir, part journal, her book takes you on a 30-day journey full of honest stories, alternatives to yelling and steps to follow so that you too can Yell Less. Find more about my book here: www.TheOrangeRhino.com/the-book and join The Orange Rhino Revolution at www.Facebook.com/TheOrangeRhino