194 days without yelling, 171 days of loving more to go!

Dear #2,

I love you so. Oh how I love you.I love your snuggles, your kisses, your laughter. I love the stories you tell with such gusto, I love the excuses you give with such conviction. I love the zest you have for life, the carefree attitude you embrace. It’s great that you can be so relaxed, but sometimes, oh sometimes how I wish you cared a little more about consequences. Like last week for example. Remember dear child of mine when you threw sand on someone three times despite timeouts and chats with me? Remember how that led to your friend not wanting to play with you and mommy subsequently becoming embarrassed by your behavior, frustrated by your behavior and therefore primed for losing it? Remember how it ended?  Yeah, those consequences weren’t so pretty were they? I can’t say it enough. I’m sorry. I do love you, you know that right?
BIG hugs and kisses,
Mommy Orange Rhino

*

I did something not nice.

Like, really not nice.

Like, not nice in a way that has me thinking I need to change the rules to The Orange Rhino Challenge (at least for me).

After my 4 year old son threw sand on friends for the third time, I said:

“This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Ah, cringe. This happened a week ago and I still cringe ALL OVER.

I didn’t yell it. I didn’t even use a firm, loud voice. I used a matter of fact voice. And perhaps, that made it even worse. Because it came out not sounding frustrated or angry. It didn’t come out sounding like I just lost it for a moment, like it was an accident.

It came out sounding calculated. Intentional.

It was supposed to come out intentional and helpful, as in teaching a lesson, pointing out the facts.

But instead it came out HURTFUL.

One look at my son’s beautiful eyes that now looked lost and glazed over and I knew that I had hurt his feelings. I knew that what I had said had gone deep, that it had hit home in a way a 4 year old shouldn’t ever feel. As my words really sunk in, my son stopped dead in his tracks, his sad eyes locked on my face with a look of scared anticipation of what is she going to say next? What is she going to do next?, and then he burst into tears and ran away telling me I wasn’t nice. That he didn’t love me anymore. That I was a mean mommy.

And he was right.

I wasn’t an Orange Rhino mommy at that point, not by my standards. I know my rules are set up to be about how loud one’s voice is, about what tone it takes. That nice tones and quiet tones are the goal. But in this situation, I met both of the goals and yet the words I spoke were still MEAN and LOUD, perhaps even more so than if I had yelled at him to just STOP. When setting up the Orange Rhino Challenge rules I missed a big point:

It isn’t just the tone and the volume I use when I speak that matters, it is also THE WORDS that matter.

At the end of the day, my words, even if quiet and calm, hurt my son. I could have sung them, whispered them, said them in another language, or said them while standing upside down on my head and they still would have hurt my son’s feelings.  At the end of the day, even if my words followed “my rules” because I remained quiet, they still had the same impact as yelling: they took a hit at my son’s self confidence, they took a hit at his trust in me.

I could sit here and write that yes, what I said was warranted; that it was okay, that he deserved it. I could sit here and write that yes, he needed to learn a lesson, that he needed to learn the connection between his behavior and why people don’t want to play with him. But an even more important truth is that YES I could have made my point in a more gentle way. A more constructive way. A more loving way.

His behavior might be the source of my frustration, the source of my action, but at this moment, his behavior isn’t in question, mine is. Because I AM THE PARENT. I am the one responsible for helping and teaching my son in a loving manner!

Instead, at this moment, I criticized him. I pointed out his lack of friends to him, something I know he is struggling with and sad about, and threw it in his face.

I mean really, how old am I … 4?

Sure, I didn’t yell, but does that make it right?

NO it doesn’t. Because in this case, I loved my son LESS not more and this Challenge is about loving more. And in this case, I didn’t even come close.

So while I could be proud that I didn’t yell, I feel anything but proud.

I feel disappointed in myself.

I feel frustrated with myself.

I feel ashamed of myself.

And I feel sad for my son. Not just because I know he isn’t a malicious child, because I know he just wants to be included and is struggling to figure out how to make friends, but because I can’t take back the words I said. I can’t take back that moment.

So I am going to take back the day. 4 days actually.

That’s right, I am knocking 4 days off my “no yelling” counter as a reminder of the age I acted and the 4 years I have loved my son.  I am taking 4 days off to remind myself why I started the Orange Rhino Challenge in the first place: to become a more warm and composed mother who doesn’t scare or hurt her children’s feelings. Period.

I am taking days off to remind myself to work a little harder at this challenge, to remind myself that just because I have stopped yelling doesn’t mean I can start saying mean things in a quiet voice. Because really, that is just as bad.

P.S. I know some of you will say I am being too hard on myself by knocking days off since I didn’t technically break the rules. Perhaps I am. I just felt in my heart I needed a small “consequence” to teach me a lesson, to remind me that words can hurt even if not yelled. 

Dear Becca,

Thanks for writing this great guest post – you made several, no many more than that great and inspirational points. I even followed your advice, item #4, and WOW what a difference. I think it helped me get through the night tonight. No, I know it did. It made all the difference in the world. Whenever I get stuck I am going to come back and read your post. And I have a feeling our fellow Orange Rhinos might as well.

Cheers,
The Orange Rhino

*

I am a stay-at-home mom with two kids: Logan (4 years old) and Brenna (2 years old). I recently started The Orange Rhino Challenge because, hey, even though I would love to change the fact that my son can be hot-tempered, competitive, and defiant… as Maya Angelou wrote:

“If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.” Well, I can’t change how my son acts (sigh), only how I react.

Now,Logan is also sweet, funny, and very smart (if I do say so myself) and I love him to pieces…but his aggressive tendencies really threw this mama for a loop. I grew up with a sister, so dealing with a little boy is a new experience for me! Add that to the fact that he inherited my passion and his daddy’s competitive streak and someone’s hot temper (not sure who to blame for that one, lol) and you’ve got a kid who is both amazing and challenging at the same time.

Did I mention I HATE conflict?

I’m a people-pleaser and never really learned how to handle conflict well. I tend to try to make the other person happy in an argument, which really doesn’t work when your conflict is with your own child, and you have to stand your ground. So, I have tried hard to teach Logan that he has to respect his parents and he has to listen to what I say. Which of course many times he doesn’t. (Go figure!) But when he disagrees with me, it’s a loud, angry ordeal.

So I thought the only way I was ever going to get this kid to listen was to yell. Snapping and raising my voice worked for reluctant obedience but caused serious conflict between us.

Orange Rhino inspiration center!

I haven’t really known what to do until I read about this Challenge. I was SO excited about starting my 30 Day Challenge (my own personal goal)- I printed out all the voice levels and a count-down chart to put on the fridge. I even posted some encouraging quotes for when I was struggling. I got 6 successful days into the Challenge thinking I SO had this…and then it happened.

I messed up.

I got lost while driving and the kids were fighting (both major triggers for me) so I snapped for them to shut it. Started myself right back at zero feeling like a jerk, and tried again the next day. Messed up again, and again, and again. I felt like I was never going to even get back to Day 1! And here’s why: I felt seriously DEFEATED. And that feeling of guilt and frustration made me want to give up. (YUP. I’ve been there Becca. I’ve been there. You are NOT alone.) 

Any other perfectionists out there?? I hate messing up, and I’ll tell you what, nothing will force you to give up being a perfectionist like parenting. You can’t be a perfect parent, and that’s OKAY! Read that last sentence again, and believe it! I have to remind myself daily.

And that’s what I want to share today. The fact that you are a wonderful mom!! I’m sure you’re thinking, “How do you know? You don’t know me.” But the fact that you are investigating this challenge says that you are someone who deeply cares about your kids. You want what is best for them and you are humble enough to admit that you are struggling in some areas and need help. That is a true sign of strength! So here are some things to consider next time you are beating yourself up over snapping at your kiddos.

1. You Made a Mistake, but You are a Good Mom! Sure, there is room to improve. But you made a mistake in a single instance, and that mistake does not define your self-worth as a mom! You aren’t giving up, and that takes courage.

2. Love Goes a Long Way. When I start feeling overwhelming guilt, it can be crippling. I have to remind myself that there is a lot of love in our house, and that consistent love and forgiveness of each other will get us past the tough moments.

3. You CAN do this. When I started failing repeatedly, I thought “I just don’t have what it takes.” That’s not true! We do have what it takes and we have to believe in ourselves. We have been blessed with these kids, and we are their moms…not the “perfect” moms at the park, not the magazine moms- they can’t do it! YOU know your children, and you alone have been given the awesome responsibility to be their mom! You can do it!

And lastly…

4. Give Yourself a Break. Give yourself some serious grace. We all make mistakes, and we just have to keep trying. But also, give yourself a LITERAL break. I forget to take time for myself and then all that giving ends up not helping anyone because I get completely burned out! I start twitching when I hear “Mommy!” for the fiftieth time. I feel my blood boil when the kids are arguing constantly. And it just doesn’t end well for anyone.

Hand daddy (or grandma, or neighbor, or best friend) the kids and back away slowly! Even just a couple of hours away can do such a world of good, for you AND the kids. If you are like me and feel guilty when you do fun things for yourself, remember that you can’t take care of them if you don’t take care of you!

So what about you? Do you ever feel like giving up? How do you make time to take care of yourself? Share in the comments because I’m sure we could all use some new ideas!

If you want to write to be the next guest blogger (and I would love you to be!), please email me at theorangerhinochallenge@gmail.com. 

195 days without yelling, 170 days of loving more to go!

The following happened to me last week. It was a beautifully heartbreaking moment that I will never forget because of the truth it spoke. 

Every morning that the weather cooperates, I strap one child on my back, buckle two in the stroller, and then hold the hand of the 4^th and walk to town for my morning caffeine. We go to the same place, the place where everyone knows our names. Knows our order. Knows that I need help holding the door open so that I can maneuver myself and the stroller in. Knows that by the time I arrive my kids are ready for a morning snack and are cranky and sometimes crying after 25 minutes of being captive to my morning walk, the walk I need to feel good about myself, the walk I need to feel refreshed, alive. The walk I need to make it through the day. The walk I need in order to feel pulled together even if I am feeling anything but.

Well today, today the boys had to wait for their snack. The people who knew us didn’t open the door. And I didn’t get my normal order.

Because there was a stranger in need. A stranger feeling anything but refreshed and pulled together. And we all helped her.

As I approached the bagel store, my four boys in tow, I saw a most beautifully striking woman standing in front. She wore the most gorgeous black suit – gorgeous in style, gorgeous in how it fit her. Her hair was pulled back flawlessly and as I later learned her make up too had once been perfect. But yet this beautiful soul felt anything but beautiful at that moment.

She stood in front of the door, her petite well manicured hands covering her face, clearly trying not to hide tears, clearly trying to stop the tears, stop the pain from being real.

My caffeine would wait. My kids could wait. And somehow, they knew they needed to wait. And not just wait, but patiently and quietly wait. This beautiful yet sad woman tugged at my heart – because how often do we all feel that?

So pulled together yet so unraveled at the same time?

I had to help her because in a way, she was me. I have been there. I have been the one wanting to cry, to bawl, but having to keep it together instead. I have been the one crying in public, wanting help, and having no one reach out. I have felt sad and alone and I would not let this woman feel that this morning. Because I have been there.  And it hurts, really, really hurts.

“Hi. Are you okay?” I asked.

“No.” Tears started falling down her face, her perfect mascara now running.

“What can I do? Can I get you a seat? A tissue?”

The boys sat quietly. Listening. Watching.

“No. I just need a friend.”

I just need a friend.

I just need a friend.

Who doesn’t?

Oh these words how they broke my heart. I wanted to hug her and tell her that she is not alone, that it will be alright, that she can call me whenever. I wanted to sit down and let her talk for as long as she needed. I wanted to be there for her because gosh, how often as a mom, as a person, do I feel that?

That I just need a friend.

I don’t need judgement, or advice, or anything else, I just need a friend. A friend to let me cry, a friend to listen, a friend who when my tears are done, will tell me it will be okay and I know that it will be because just having talked will have made me feel better.

I wanted to be that friend for her at that moment but knew my clock with my kids was ticking. I knew the minute she opened up that my boys would get antsy and she would be cut off. And I did NOT want that for this person.

So I did my best.

“Oh my. I am so sorry you are having a rough morning. Did you have coffee? Let me buy you a coffee?”

“Oh, I tried to get coffee but I couldn’t even go in.”

“WE will get it for you. What do you want?”

“A latte.”

My boys and I went into the store and ordered our new friend a latte and a croissant because #1 thought it would make her smile. And he wanted her to smile. Because she was very sad he said.

We came out to find our new friend hugging an old friend. I was so relieved that she had found what she needed at that moment. She graciously accepted her coffee and croissant and we graciously denied her attempts to pay us back. We wished her well and walked on our way, my boys asking if she would be alright? Why was she sad? Did she need a hug? Did she need her mommy?

A few steps later we were over the train platform and looking down.

There stood our new friend, wiping away her tears. The boys called to her.

She looked up.

“Blow her a kiss boys, she needs to feel loved.” I said.

And they did. Three kisses were sent her way. And she caught them. And blew a kiss and a smile back.

The next morning the weather cooperated and we walked to town again, as usual. The entire walk the boys asked about “the lady” wondering if we would see her, if she would still be sad.

We did see her. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, almost as if it was meant to be, as we were running late and yet we literally met her at the door as she was walking in. She smiled a shy smile, almost an embarrassed smile. The boys said hi and asked if she was feeling better.  She said yes and then quietly ordered her latte.

Then she said the following to the man behind the counter:

“I’m so sorry for yesterday. There is just a lot of stress in my life. I was just having a rough morning.”

Today I didn’t want to tell her it would be okay. I wanted to tell her,

DO NOT apologize for crying. Do not apologize for not being all buttoned up for a few moments. It is OKAY to let go and let the stress out. It’s OKAY.

Hmmm…perhaps I should heed my own advice?

191 days of not yelling, 174 days of loving more to go

Dear Grouchy Old Man,

The other night I wrote about how frustrating it was to have you yell at my son and me (read here). I woke up the next morning, bitterness gone, to realize you gave me a gift. The gift of realizing just how much I have changed. 15 months ago when the same thing happened, I cried, I yelled, I made a spectacle of myself (see It Takes Courage not to Yell, Part 2). I didn’t communicate anything worthwhile to the offender and furthermore I didn’t take a bad opportunity and make it a learning opportunity for my kids.

But this go around, I did all of the above. I told the man that kids yell sometimes, that he was doing his best, that I was as well. I told my sons that sometimes people say not nice things and it is important to be the bigger person and respond with as much kindness as possible. I didn’t cry in front of the man but remained as strong as I could.

I told people “I didn’t care, it didn’t matter. I was used to being criticized for my son’s behavior.”

The truth? It did matter. I did care. And it wasn’t that I was used to it was that I have GROWN UP a bit. I have become STRONGER. I have learned how to CONTROL my impulses.

I truly believe this is a direct result of The Orange Rhino Challenge. The Challenge has forced me to look at myself, my behaviors, my responses. It has forced me to accept that I can’t change others but that I can change myself.

And for all of this I am grateful.

Which I guess makes me grateful for our little run in old man.

Who would have thunk it?

Best of Luck to you as you learn Tolerance and Empathy,
The Orange Rhino

(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….