253 days without yelling, 112 days of loving more to go!

Dear old self,

Oh how I’ve missed you. I liked you! You used to smile more. Have a pep in your step more. You used to believe in yourself more. You used to give more. I know life gets harder as you get older, that it gets more stressful, but please don’t let that squash you AGAIN. You were much more fun to be around and I am so grateful that you are slowly returning.

Your new (old) self,
The Orange Rhino

*
When I was in elementary school I begged my mom to take me to the Food Pantry JUST BECAUSE I loved filling the shelves with can goods for others.

When I was in junior high school a friend and I dressed up as Santa Claus and handed out little “stocking stuffer” goody bags when kids came through the doors JUST BECAUSE it would be nice.

When I was in high school I spent extra time with a mom who had lost her son in a car accident JUST BECAUSE I knew she needed someone to talk to. In fact, I did a lot of JUST BECAUSE actions in high school. I did a lot of caring and loving and giving of myself to others.

And this just because attitude carried into college to the point where I actually dreamed of starting a business called JUST BECAUSE. I dreamed that I would sell all of sorts of things people could run in and buy on a whim to give to someone just because. Just because they had a bad day. Just because they passed a test. Just because they needed to smile. Just because it would be fun. Just because it feels good to do randomly nice things for people, friends and strangers alike. I went even so far as to bake cookies once a week and package them up nicely in a box labeled JUST BECAUSE and give it to a friend I thought needed a smile.

When I started my first job I bought bagels every Friday to share with my team JUST BECAUSE it was Friday and everyone needed a pick me up (or a hangover cure). I even gave of my time acting as a live auctioneer to raise funds for American Cancer Society.

Yes, I used to give a lot of myself JUST BECAUSE I wanted to. Just because it made me happy to make others happy.

And then somehow, it happened.

I became jaded.

I stopped giving.

I stopped doing random acts of Just Because.

I would like to say I don’t know when it happened. But that’s a lie. The awful truth is it happened when I went from 2 to 3 kids, when my eldest son turned 3. When my life became infinitely harder, more stressful, more chaotic and more busy than I ever imagined.

When my life became surprisingly more lonely than I ever imagined.

When my life became that much more about my children, and less about me. When my life became about giving to my children JUST BECAUSE they were my chosen priority at that time in my life, rightfully so.

But the more ugly truth?

I think I lost my desire to give when I started to yell more frequently. Sad, but I think somewhat true. Because when I yelled I carried an angry, frustrated, chip on my shoulder all the time. It was so big that it consumed me and all my thoughts leaving little room for positive thinking and doing.

And then somehow, it happened.

I became un-jaded.

I started giving.

I started doing random acts of JUST BECAUSE again. Like this one (I Just Need a Friend) and this one (Pay it Forward.)

I would like to say I don’t know what happened but you all know the answer. I STOPPED YELLING. I let go of being angry every day. I let go of taking all my kids bad behavior as a personal attack on me. I let go of some (not all!) mama guilt and negative thinking that I am a bad mom. Do I still have days and moments when I feel angry, ahem, yes, hello 6:45 this morning!! But in general, I truly feel lighter, happier.

Sounds cheesy, but guess what? I have learned that this is true.

I feel like me. The old me. The one who feels more love in her heart and as such naturally wants to share more love with others. JUST BECAUSE it feels right.

Now I can say that I am not the mom I used to be, instead I am the person I used to be.

And I welcome my new (old) self back with welcome arms.

And I want to do something nice to celebrate.

JUST BECAUSE you all have helped me find my old self, JUST BECAUSE I want to share the love, JUST BECAUSE I believe every parent deserves to be patted on the back, to toot his/her rhino horn just for showing up and taking on the challenge of parenting, to be told they are doing a good job, to be given an unexpected smile in the middle of the day, I am going to give a special something to a parent when they least expect it.

Please help me find that person. By the end of day MONDAY, October 22, 2012, please email me at theorangerhinochallenge@gmail.com or comment below or on my Facebook page if you know someone deserving of a JUST BECAUSE moment and help me spread some love. I will carry out my JUST BECAUSE moment on Tuesday after randomly selecting someone by the draw of a hat.

This is not a sweepstakes or a give away. It is simply me, The Orange Rhino, doing something because I want to give back.

251 days without yelling, 114 days of loving more to go!
Favorite Song Friday #1

Dear Orange Rhinos,

I love music. The right song literally goes into my soul and brings me up when I am down, pushes me when I want to quit, makes me dance when I need to let loose, makes me sing when I want to yell. Yes, music has been a HUGE part of my learning not to yell. There are so many songs I hear that make me stop and think “wow, it’s like this song was written with The Orange Rhino Challenge in mind” or “wow, that song said exactly how I feel but couldn’t put into words.”

I realized that in all my blogging, I have done a lot of “phew I didn’t yell” and not as much “and this is what I did to not yell” or “this keeps me inspired to not quit” as I had hoped. I have been trying to think of ways to do so and voila! I got this new idea. I hope you like it because I am pretty jazzed about. Pun intended, remember, I am a total dork!

Starting today, I am going to TRY (time and parenting constraints permitting and unforeseeable circumstances!) and make Fridays my Favorite Song day. I will share a song that has inspired me, helped me, or just made me get dancing with my kids. If you have any songs that have done the same for you, please email me and I’ll look to include them.

Today’s song I LOVE. LOVE LOVE LOVE. Why? Because it is EXACTLY the message I want to send to all of you.

Have a listen to this video and then have a read below. The original lyrics are in black, my thoughts in orange, obviously!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=HoRkntoHkIE

Home, by Philip Phillips

Hold on, to me as we go (yes we, this challenge isn’t just mine, it’s ours)
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home (My thoughts exactly. This Facebook page, my blog, I am going to make it your home. A place where you can come to when sad, lost, frustrated, happy. A place where you feel safe, happy, inspired, welcomed. Home is where the heart is.)

Settle down, it’ll all be clear
Don’t pay no mind to the demons (ah, the demons that try and tell you that you can’t do this, that you can’t succeed ignore them, you can!)
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone (Orange Rhinos, you are not alone. You are not the only one who feels he/she yells too much. You are part of us, a community of parents willing to admit we are struggling, that we are working hard to change, that we love our kids. You are one of the few courageous enough to try and change.)
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it’ll all be clear
Don’t pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found (If you yell, or lose interest in the Challenge, in yourself, you are always welcome back here, no questions, just support).

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

250 days without yelling, 115 days of loving more to go!

Dear Cathy,

You wrote the following on the Facebook wall tonight. I started to respond but I started writing a novel so alas, my response is tonight’s post!

I feel like I need to purge/confess/atone … I screamed, I yelled … BIG TIME. Now I feel so deflated … and sad :0( I’m promising myself and the monkeys to be better. I feel like I need some guidance or encouragement, just something. I feel like I start over everyday … but so be it, I’ll take it one day at a time and re-commit to this pledge everyday if that’s what it takes.

I am so sorry I am just getting this and couldn’t reply IMMEDIATELY and bring you a bottle of wine and yummy chocolate cake with extra icing. But alas, I couldn’t. So grab a fork, pull up a chair, pour a glass of wine for yourself and pretend to dig into this cake with me. No cutting slices, lets just eat it as is!

Oh, I have so much to say!

First off, thank you for sharing your struggles with us. For trusting us with your feelings. That is gutsy and amazing.

Second, know that I, and I am sure your husband, and kids and the fellow Orange Rhinos all agree that trying to change the habit of yelling is pretty impressive. So many people yell at their kids big time and don’t care. But you do. You care enough to make a change. And that is absolutely AWESOME.

According to Al Batt (I have no idea who he is, but I love what he said):
It is easy to sit up and take notice.
What is difficult is getting up and taking action.

It takes courage to take on such a big challenge. It takes commitment. It takes love. And you have all three. So please don’t feel deflated. Feel proud that you are trying so hard. Feel proud that every day you get up and show up to be a mom, one of the hardest challenges. Feel proud that every day, despite perhaps yelling the day prior, you keep trying.

According to Winston Churchill (I totally know who he is!)
“Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.”

So according to him, and I am in total agreement, you are succeeding even if it doesn’t feel like it. I know, easy for me to say right? But I believe it. You wrote on the Orange Rhino facebook page tonight because you want to succeed. That tells me you will. Because you have the enthusiasm and the dedication to figure it out. And by the way, I have a hunch you are already yelling less than you did before and that IS A SUCCESS big time.

Please be assured that it took me numerous tries to figure out the whole not yelling thing. Collectively 30 days I believe with starts and stops. Oh how I wish I was writing during those days so that you could read how you are NOT alone. But I didn’t because I was nervous about what I would write; what people would think. Again, you totally exposed yourself tonight and that is more than I could do 280 days ago. Pretty amazing.

Anyway, I share the following with you in hopes that it helps.

1) FORGET 365 DAYS. I wrote a whole post about that here: Forget 365. In a nut shell, I am an all or nothing addictive personality. If I didn’t set such a crazy goal for myself I would have cheated lots and the cheating would have led me right back to not caring. But I learned quickly that it ISN’T about going 365 days straight. It is about having MORE LOVING MOMENTS period. Yell less, love more. So read this post and find a goal that motivates you but doesn’t stress you. Pick a goal you know you can succeed at and nail it, ie. not yelling at bath time. Then build on up from that.

2) If I didn’t post on FB every time I wanted to yell, if I didn’t text a friend when I wanted to yell, if I didn’t have my kids say Orange Rhino to me when I got cranky, if I did none of these things, I wouldn’t be here today. Tell a friend, tell all of us about your commitment and every night Toot your Rhino Horn. I know people hate that but accountability works. These little things help. So please, use me. This is why I created the page – not just to get support for me, but to give support.

3) Keep a diary. I know, sounds 7^th grade. But seriously. For a few days write down all the times you yell, what the kids are doing, what you were doing, how you were feeling, how they were feeling. You’ll start to notice a trend of triggers. Triggers that are easy to work on (quick wins) and triggers that take more time. Take it one trigger at a time. Keep asking yourself why? why am I yelling? Acknowledging my triggers helped kicked me into shape. I’m yelling because I mad at my husband, not my kids. I’m yelling because I just got on the scale and I gained weight, not because I am annoyed my kids can’t get dressed on time. Saying it out loud puts it all in perspective.

Face your deficiencies and acknowledge them; but do not let them master you.  Let them teach you patience, sweetness, insight.
~ Helen Keller 

4) Tell yourself it’s okay. Tell yourself that you are making progress. And that every moment you try is a step forward.

5) Know that you are NOT ALONE. That we are all here because we are all struggling. And that I can always be a phone call away to tell you it’s okay. To remind you that you are amazing and that you have courage and commitment a lot of people lack. Seriously. If you need me, email me and I’ll call you as soon as I can.

Xoxo,
The Orange Rhino

249 days without yelling, 116 days of loving more to go!

Dear Alzheimer’s,

You suck. No that’s putting it mildly. You S-U-C-K suck suck suck! I hate you, I hate what you are doing to my family, I hate what you are doing to someone so special to me. I hate you for invading W’s soul and taking it away. I hate you for so much. And I hate that I can’t really talk about it with the people close to me because it is impacting them worse than me. So I will write here and hope that writing will lessen some of my pain and sadness but knowing that most of it will still remain because every moment I look at “W” my pain and sadness stabs me in the heart.

So please, get lost or at least, slow down,
The Orange Rhino

*

I had suspected something for several years now. I just knew something wasn’t right. When I first met “W” he didn’t stop talking. He could go on and on and on and on about his favorite snow blower. He often bored me with his ridiculously detailed stories about his days in the war, his days as a youth, his days raising my husband. And even though he bored me, his memory was so amazing and his stories so sweet in an elderly type of way, that I smiled and listened intently.

It’s hard not to listen to W as he looks and acts like I imagine Santa Claus to be. He draws you in with his incredibly soft spoken and gentle demeanor. He has a sweet, reassuring, come hither and trust me with your thoughts, problems and wishes smile. He always has a twinkle in his eyes as he takes joy in so  much: his grandsons playing, his son’s success, his wife’s tender heart. And when he chuckles, oh when he chuckles, it just warms your heart and sets you at ease. W simply exudes warmth and all sorts of wonderful the way Santa Claus does. He indeed has a magic about him. A magic that makes you feel like everything will always be okay.

But that twinkle and that sweet, sweet smile, and that magical spirit, along with his memory, have become less and less apparent with every visit.

“W can you please give me the phone?”
“Here.” He said as he handed me the TV remote.

“W can I help you find something in the kitchen?”
“I’m looking for the spoon” he said, holding it in his hand.

“W you look lost, what’s up?”
“Where is my wife?” He said as he walked circles around the first floor.
“W she went to the bathroom, she’ll be right back.” Of course she had just told him this 30 seconds prior.

“W, you look bored. How are you?” I asked him a thousand times over as he just sat on our family room couch, staring off into space not saying a word.

Not saying a damn word.

How I would pay to hear him utter a full sentence about his damn snow blower right now. How I would pay to hear him tell a story about my husband’s childhood. How I would pay to have him be able to play Legos with my sons, to be able to tell them stories from a time my boys will never know.

Instead he just sits. And watches. The twinkle in his eye mostly gone. The smile mostly gone. The chuckle mostly gone.

The magic spirit of W mostly gone. And I totally took it for granted. Totally. And even though I knew “it” was coming, the big “Alzheimer’s diagnosis”, it still all happened so fast. A few years maybe. A few years from my sensing that he was losing his memory and so much of his soul to getting to the point where his spirit was quickly, much too quickly, becoming a memory.

I’ve been doing my best to stay strong for my husband. To not mention all the little signs I notice. To not share with him just how big the pit in my stomach is.

And then this happened, and I couldn’t keep it together any longer. Because it all became too real. And just too sad to not say anything.

It was his wife’s birthday this past weekend. As my wonderful husband has started to do for every holiday, he bought a card from his dad for his mom.

“Orange Rhino, will you have my dad sign this birthday card?” Sure I said. How hard could that be? How heartbreaking could it be?

“Here W, this is a card for your wife for her birthday. Can you sign it?”

He paused.

He took the pen and kept playing with it in his hands, as if he was trying to figure out how to hold it. After a minute he wrote:

“Hap” and then stopped. I gave him a moment to see if he could figure it out. He couldn’t.

“W do you need help?” I asked sweetly, fighting back tears.

“I don’t know what I am writing.”

“You are writing Happy Birthday I think.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Try again.”

“Happ”

“What am I writing?”

“Happy Birthday.”

He tried again but clearly couldn’t. He didn’t remember how to write, how to spell. He didn’t remember but oh I know his hand and his heart both wanted to so badly. Oh how I know how he and I both wanted this damn disease to go away, to stop taking basic things away from W like the ability to write a simple card for the love of his life.

“I’ll write a note for you and you sign your name, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Dear wife, Happy 70^th Birthday. I’ll love you forever. I will always treasure our memories.”

W then signed his name and we went into the restaurant.

As if nothing had happened.

But it had. My heart had just broken.

241 days without yelling, 124 days of LOVING MORE to go

Dear Friendly’s,

You should print on your menus that all customers should be Friendly in order to eat at your restaurant. And perhaps a reminder that it is a family friendly restaurant, ie. that kids will be there. Oh and perhaps a note that sometimes kids make…noise.

Just a thought,
The Orange Rhino

*

Fact: My #3 has a tendency to yell and scream when frustrated. It is a known problem. We are working on it.

Fact: My #3 has made a lot of progress over the last year and a half. A lot of progress.

Fact: My #3 has worked hard – at speech therapy and occupational therapy to overcome his struggles.

Fact: My #3 is a love. Oh and a PERSON with areas of improvement. Like all of US.

Fact: I do not accept screaming in public.

Fact: I don’t yell and I don’t hit. I don’t believe in either. But I do still believe in discipline. And I believe with practice I can do so without said yelling and without hitting.

Fact: I work hard to love my children, to help my children, and to accept them despite their challenges.

Fact: I love my #3 fiercely. We have been reproached several times when he has one of his fits. I used to take it personally. I used to be angry at him. I used to be embarrassed by him. I used to allow others who yelled and criticized me to make me feel smaller.

FACT: I AM DONE feeling ashamed of how hard I am working to help my child with his struggles. I am done making excuses for the challenges he faces. I am done taking it all personally. Because I know my son and I are working our as*es off to improve. I am working harder every time to stay calm and to help him (which is what he needs…he does NOT need to be hit or yelled at, he needs me to teach him and help him. He needs me to try and understand him, what he is trying to say and what he can’t say).  And my son is working hard as h*ll to find his words, to calm down, to act more “appropriately.” We as a team our trying really bl**dy hard and I am proud of us.

Today I proved to myself that I am changing, that we are changing and dam*it I feel proud. I am tooting my Rhino Horn loudly tonight.

While at Friendly’s tonight for #1’s birthday #3 screamed. I promptly picked him up and brought him to the door for a break. We returned. His shirt got wet. He screamed again. I frantically dried his shirt and worked hard to soothe him while my baby started fussing because he didn’t have a crayon? Gosh knows why he was fussing. I was trying HARD hard hard to soothe everyone, to gain control of my bunch of wonderful boys all excited to be celebrating a birthday. I was sweating BULLETS. Bullets because I knew eyes were watching me.

Would I succeed? Would I settle my brood? Oh the eyes for judging me for sure. So I sweat even more.

Then #3 let out one more scream because his napkin wrinkled the wrong way.

And that is when sh*t hit the fan.

Turns out one of those judging sets of eyes had a voice too. The older voice spoke:

“Why don’t you bring him over here, I’ll hit him for you and then take care of him. I’ll make him shut up.”

(I’m sorry. What? What did you dare just utter to me??? Did you just volunteer to hit my kid? What makes you think I wanted to do that in the first place?! I was absolutely AMAZED at her ridiculousness.)

Without blinking an eye, without sweating even more, without JUMPING across the table over to her’s and throttling her, I ever so sweetly and politely replied:

“Oh, please don’t talk to my son that way. It isn’t nice and it isn’t funny. He is a child. Both he and I are trying our hardest.”

Then I took a drink of water, resisted all urge to throw it in her face, and turned back to my son wicked proud of myself for standing up for my son, for us.

“I love you #3. I know you are upset. It’s okay. Do you need a hug?”

“Yes mommy. I love you.”

This time sweat didn’t drip down my face. Tears did. Lots of them. And for a change they weren’t tears of defeat, tears of embarrassment, tears of fear, tears of frustration. They were tears of sheer joy.

I LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU.

The first time in 3 years my son has ever been able to speak those words without prompt.

I LOVE YOU. I’ll say it again and again and again.

I can only imagine if I had lost it with him, or her. Pretty sure I wouldn’t have heard those words. Tonight or for gosh knows how long. And let me tell you. It was outright AMAZING.

*

I know I have said it before. I know it is probably annoying and boring and all that jazz to be said again BUT…. I continue to be blown away by how this Orange Rhino Challenge, how learning to not yell, is benefiting my family and I in more ways than one. A year and half ago (read here)I never would have stood up for myself so eloquently. NEVER. But I have learned I CAN control myself and in doing so, I am way more powerful. How do I know?

The lady of the night? Well she didn’t make another peep the entire meal. Oh, and for the record, neither did my son. He rocked the rest of the meal which for a 3 year old with some challenges is pretty fantastic. 

P.S. If you are thinking of commenting, please remember this is a supporting, loving community. I am not intending to engage in the debate of is hitting kids right or wrong. Instead, I want to focus on how The Orange Rhino Challenge has many a benefits. That and that my son FINALLY said I LOVE YOU!!!

Dear Orange Rhinos,

This might be too much information. Perhaps too “deep”and too “boring” but I wrote it and figured I might as well share it. Am I alone in this trigger?

The Orange Rhino

*

I just want to cry right now. I am so down and out and feeling cruddy about myself that all I want to do is burst into tears. But I can’t. Because intellectually I know I “shouldn’t” be feeling what I am feeling and so my intellectual side of my brain is desperately trying to beat my emotional side up. It is trying so hard to suppress what I feel. It is trying to be helpful, I know it is but really RIGHT NOW I don’t want to be intellectual. I don’t care if it isn’t healthy to have an unrelenting need to be liked, to be accepted. I don’t care if I shouldn’t care that a few people don’t like me when all the important ones do. I don’t care (right now) if these crappy feelings I am having are just getting in the way of me having a good day; I also kind of don’t care if they are setting me up to yell.

Right now, I just don’t care.

I just want to eat a bacon, egg, and cheese on sesame bagel to feel better. Or perhaps get a grande caffee mocha from Starbucks? I want to eat my pain and frustration with myself away. But I can’t because I am trying to lose weight and part of that has been teaching myself to NOT eat when I am upset. To not fight my emotions with salt and sweets but instead to deal with them. BOO. Eating can be way more fun and tasty.

I just want to curl up in a ball and cry and feel sorry for myself that some people don’t like me and feel sorry for myself that I am so ridiculous to CONSTANTLY struggle with this need to be liked by everyone. I struggle with this back as*wards thinking that the people who don’t like me are more important than those that do. But I can’t. Because I have kids to take care of today and places to be and places to be seen. There is no time to cry today.

I just want to find confidence in ME. I just want to believe in ME. I just want to be happy with ME and MY LIFE even if and when people don’t like me and what I do. And I want to believe all the people that say “the people that care about you are the people that matter.” I want to…

I want to believe and live all these beautiful sayings. But some days, I can’t.

Which leaves me so frustrated.

I just want to understand WHY? Why am I this way? Why do I need to be liked by everyone? Why do I focus on the few who don’t like me instead of being grateful for those who do?

Is it because I heard a bunch of catty girls talking about me in the swimming locker room when I was 7? Because I heard them on more than one occasion blame a lost race on me? Because I heard them say on more than one occasion that I was a loser? That they didn’t like me?

Is it because I am just a naturally insecure person and there is no way I can change my DNA? In other words, am I just screwed?

Is it because of the way I was raised? Was I not loved enough? Was my brother loved more?

Is it because for so many years I was never any one’s #1 go to person and I spent so many years trying to get to that spot, to get people to like me, that it became a habit?

Is it because I have been hurt by a lot of people, disappointed by a lot of people, so that when even one person disappoints me it feels like a 100?

I don’t know the answer. Even my mom doesn’t know the answer. I called and asked her because she obviously knows me the longest and the best. I talked it through with her. I kept saying to her and me, why? why? why do I have this absolutely infuriating, annoying, and ugly personality trait? Why must I have it? It is a pain in the arse and is a major trigger for yelling. If I feel someone doesn’t like me, or I offended someone, I think about it ALL DAY which kind of keeps me from being present with my kids and kinda sets me up to yell BIG TIME because I feel so crappy about me. So why mom, WHY I ask you am I like this? How do I change?

I got off the phone still not knowing.

But I do know this. 703+ words ago when I started writing I wanted to cry. I felt so incredibly crappy that I was certain I was going to scream at my kids today.  For no other reason than mama was in a sad mood. And that desire has passed. Forcing myself to sit and write and think about this personal struggle of mine, forcing myself to face the hard sh*t instead of ignoring it, has helped me feel better. I feel a slight weight lifted for now. It might be slight, and it might be a passing moment, but it is progress. And any progress is progress.   

239 days without yelling, 126 days of loving more to go!

Dear Neighbor,

Thanks for making me laugh today! When you suggested that I must be a saint because I don’t yell at my 4 boys I almost crashed my hockey stick scratched up, rotten milk smelling, cheerio filled mini-van into my newly planted, and newly kicked and jumped on by said boys, mums. Trust me sweetheart, I might not yell anymore but I still ain’t a saint but oh, thanks for the chuckle! Here are just a FEW, emphasis on a few, of the parenting mistakes (or flaws depending on who you ask) that show I am not up for title of Saint.  P.S. I know I have worse and funnier offenders. But I have blocked them out of my mind for good reason.

My turn to try to make you laugh or smile,
The Orange Rhino

*

1)      I (accidentally) taught my kids the f-bomb at an early age. I still believe it is a powerful communicator and a great word BUT I shouldn’t have taught it to my almost 6 year old when he was 1. Because now he says “aw f***ing great” and “what the f**k?” And yes, he taught his brothers that word too.

2)      I let my kids go out in the winter without hats on and sometimes without jackets. This drives my mother-in-law absolutely nuts. Perhaps that is why I do it?

3)      Last Monday I forgot that I signed up for my son’s birthday party in school. 10 minutes before I was supposed to go in I remembered. 9 minutes before I raced to the supermarket and bought whatever they had. Mind you it was a Monday. And the bakery section had yet to be re-filled from the weekend.

4)      Sometimes I don’t realize my baby has a dirty diaper until my sons tell me. “Mommy don’t you know #4 has a dirty diaper? Aren’t you going to change it.” Sh*t, add that to the to-do list before getting out the door.

5)      For almost a solid year I served dinner out of the freezer. And no, I don’t mean frozen vegetables or frozen homemade meals. I mean frozen pre-made meals by manufacturers. GASP!

6)      I let my kids eat food off the floor. Yes, I apply the 5 second rule to restaurants too. Yes, I know I just eerked a bunch of you out.

7)      I ignored a teacher’s suggestion for two years that my son needed OT. Both he and I could have avoided a lot of painful moments if I hadn’t been so headstrong.

8)      One Halloween I made my boys then 1, 2ish and 4 wear what I picked despite their complaints. All because I wanted my then 1 year old to wear the exact costume his brothers had and I needed a theme to go with it. That and well Wizard of Oz with mom as Dorothy was too cute.

9)      I did my son’s puzzle tonight, without him asking. I know I need to encourage his puzzle skills but his new interest has re-kindled my own interest and I couldn’t put the pieces down.

10)   I say “just a minute, just a minute” a lot. Not because I am busy but because well, sometimes I just don’t want to play another game of Monopoly or have my “boo boo’s” looked at by my in-house doctors.

11)   I most definitely let my kids watch too much T.V. Yes, Disney is often my babysitter when mama needs a break. Even if our TV allotment for the day has been reached.

12)   I make big (and silly) proclamations and threats. And then don’t follow through. If you don’t get out the door in 2 minutes I’m gonna go without you. Oooh, this is so wrong. I would never ever do that!

13)   I let my kids sit and read gossip magazines instead of reading to them. Reading is actually really hard for me so I try to do the bare minimum. Not good. I know. But US Weekly can teach a lot, right?

#3 one year ago in the waiting room for Speech Therapy.

14)   I don’t wear make-up or stylish clothes (or even clean clothes) and look all presentable and pretty. In fact, I don’t know how to apply makeup. I wore eye liner for the first time when I had my wedding make up trial done. At age 23.

15)   I don’t get down and play with my kids on the floor a lot. Yes, I do do it. I do unplug and unwind and focus on them but definitely not as much as I dream of.

16)   I might not yell, but on occasion I still shame my kids. I just do it in a really passive aggressively quiet voice. It doesn’t break my rules but I still need to work on it.

17)   I might not yell, but I still am a snap-happy person. Sometimes so much that I think I should have made this blog the “snapping green turtle” blog.

18)   I make my kids take boat loads of family pictures even though I know they hate it. Even if they are whining and moaning and groaning about how miserable they are, I still force them to sit still and smile. Yeah, this approach always works and makes great pictures. As if.

19)   I call to my kids from across the room to do something knowing that it won’t work. Then again sometimes going across the room doesn’t work either!

20)   I handed peanut butter crackers to my son who is allergic to peanut butter. I’d like to say it was to test him. But it wasn’t. I forgot which kid I was making a snack for.

Ahhh, I ain’t perfect. And I am perfectly okay with that (on most days). Because I am a work in progress. Aren’t we all?

Written today, but should have been written sometime in January 2012. If I had had the guts then to completely admit to all that’s included below….

Dear Internet World,

My name is The Orange Rhino and I yell at my kids. A lot. A lot more than I like. A lot more than I ever imagined I would. I don’t yell at them ALL day (or everyday) but it kind of feels like it. And well, I am sure it definitely feels like it to my four boys. Because most of the time (again NOT all the time) when I yell, I don’t just yell, I YELLLLLL. I’m talking a full on screaming at the top of my lungs yell accompanied by one or all of the following: red face, shaking hands, screeching voice, eyes squeezed shut in sheer disbelief.

Photo: mymommymanners.com

I yell at them for leaving legos on the floor, for not hanging their jackets up, for putting their shoes right where I walk so that I trip.

I yell at them for pissing everywhere BUT in the toilet, for emptying half the bathtub on the floor, for spitting on the mirror during toothbrushing time.

I yell at them for hitting their brothers, for pretending to shoot each other with guns, for not stopping rough play when someone is crying.

I yell at them for complaining about what I serve for dinner, for throwing their food on the table if they don’t like it, for saying they aren’t hungry and then begging for food. 10 minutes after the meal is over.

I yell at them for playing instead of going to bed, I yell at them for getting out of bed too early, I yell at them for waking each other up in the morning.

I yell at them to hurry up and get out the door, to pee before getting in the car, to stop picking on each other while we wait in the car line at pick up.

I yell at them for begging me to put the TV on, for asking one more time to play with their LeapPad explorers, for pleading for more toys.

I yell at them for interrupting me when I am on the phone, for not stopping talking when I have said I need a break, for talking too loudly.

I yell at them for not saying please and barking orders at me, for calling their brothers mean words, for being fresh with me.

I yell at them for not keeping their hands to themselves in stores, for intentionally taking a toy from their brothers, for pushing each other.

I yell at them for temper tantruming for what feels like hours on end, for slamming doors when angry, for throwing toys on the ground and at me when they don’t get their way.

I yell at them for silly things, for serious things, and “you’re-just-being-annoying” things.

I yell at them when I have had enough of them not listening, when I am tired of being patient and empathetic, when I am overwhelmed with the challenges of parenting.

I yell at them when they are only being mildly annoying but I am cranky, or tired, or not feeling well, or anxious, or sad, or preoccupied, or busy, or just not in a good place.

Am I missing anything? I am sure I yell at them for a lot more. Because it looks like I CHOOSE to yell at them for just about everything and anything.

Oh, yes I did forget something.

I yell at them for yelling at me, for yelling in the house, for yelling at each other. Wait, I wonder where they learned to yell at me? To yell at each other?

Crap. They learned that from me.

Crap, I yell a lot. I lose my patience a lot. I forget they are just kids, just people, a lot. I don’t stop and question my expectations, a lot.  I get lazy and don’t try to find self control, a lot. I tell myself I am going to change, and then do nothing, a lot. I wish I could stop yelling, a lot.

Because yelling makes me feel really, really crappy, A LOT.

My name is The Orange Rhino and I am tired of being a yelling parent.

I am tired of being disappointed in myself for not keeping it together. I am tired of knowing that my yelling is hurting my kids’ feelings and probably doing some emotional damage too. I am tired of yelling and having it achieve nothing but making things worse. I am tired of not setting a good example for my kids. I am tired of getting on my kid’s cases for everything, for not letting them have a little more breathing room. I am tired of not putting the energy into finding a way to end my yelling. I am tired of saying “oh, I only yell on occasions, but when I do it is bad” when really, that is a lie. I am tired of going to bed (almost) every night feeling guilty and ashamed of how I treated my boys.

My name is The Orange Rhino and I am going to go 365 days straight without yelling. I make this big commitment because this nasty habit of mine needs to vanish not for a few days, but for life. I make this big commitment not just because I know I can do better and because I want to do better, but also because my kids deserve better.

(My name is The Orange Rhino and I DID go 365 days without yelling and I believe that you can too!)

227 days of not yelling, 138 days of loving more to go!

Dear Self,

You let the silliest things both you and tempt you to yell. Seriously, loosen up a bit, will ya?

The Orange Rhino

*

Every morning and every night I get agitated over the same thing: toothpaste on the bathroom counter and toothpaste spit all over the bathroom sink. But let me be clear, it isn’t just on the counter it is smeared all over and on good days, it is dripping of the sides of the “used” toothbrush so that the toothbrush leaves a nice mark wherever it sits. Oh, and the spit isn’t just in the sink, some of it has accidentally “sprayed” on the mirror. And the wall. Perhaps on the toilet seat too because wouldn’t it be fun to spit into the toilet? It looks like a sink you know. Yeah, once my kids have brushed their teeth unsupervised the bathroom smells minty fresh and looks freshly “decorated.” I. CAN’T. STAND. IT.

And every morning and every night it makes me want to yell at my older two sons.

And every morning and every night, and especially right now, I think to myself, really?? Really you are going to yell at your kids over toothpaste?

Yes, it is messy and sticky and one more thing to clean up.

Yes, it is frustrating that no matter how many times I remind them to wipe down the counter and rinse the sink when done, they still forget.

Yes, it is maddening that it seems they have no regard for being neat and tidy or respectful of my wishes to use proper “bathroom etiquette.”

Yes, it is annoying to have to make extra trips to CVS just to buy more toothpaste because of the constant waste (because no kid in my house every squeezes just a little toothpaste on the toothbrush.)

But no, the great toothpaste fight really isn’t worth yelling at my kids.

Because they are 6 and 4.5 and are still learning.

But more so, as I finally realized this morning as I wiped down the counter again for the umpteenth time, they are actually doing something RIGHT and I should focus on that behavior and applaud it instead of ridiculing the inconvenient behavior.

Without my having to ask, they are not only remembering to brush their teeth but also actually doing it! ON THEIR OWN! This is miraculous! Worthy of a celebration even! It took me months of reminding them to get to that point. Months! My older boys brushing their teeth on their own is so incredibly helpful; it is one less thing that I have to remember to ask them to do and let’s face it, I need all the help I can get!  And not only is it good for me, but it is good for them. Brushed teeth = less cavities, something my mouthful of cavities (and Novocaine from having a crown put in today) is really wishing I had remembered to do when I was a kid!

So as I grumbled under my breath this morning about the mess, I decided to let go of the great toothpaste fight. I decided to embrace the good behavior and stop harping on the bad. I decided to accept that it will take months for them to remember to clean up after themselves and that is okay. I decided to focus my energy on bigger problems, bigger annoyances.

I decided that it is really no big deal to have to take 5 seconds to wipe down the counter and 5 more seconds to gently remind the boys the etiquette of tooth brushing. Taking 10 seconds is a heck of a lot more convenient than locking up the toothpaste in my bathroom and having to go get it and then monitor their brushing while I have two tired younger brothers pulling at my leg for one more book. Taking 10 seconds to set an example and teach is a heck of a lot better for my kids than telling them “no, you can’t do this on your own because you make a mess.” Taking 10 seconds after they have already brushed their teeth, which is a huge accomplishment, is WAY better than spending hours in the dentist’s office in the next years if they didn’t brush their teeth because mommy was too swamped at bedtime to hound them to do it.

Yeah brushing their teeth on their own and making a mess is WAY better than the alternatives.

Besides, they will get it someday. It might be when they move in with a fiancee 20 or so years from now, and she has the same pet peeve, but they’ll get it. And until then, I’ll just keep on gently reminding them to clean up.

219 days without yelling, 146 days of loving more to go!

Dear E.R.,

I really did not enjoy hanging out in you 10 days or so ago. Not one bit. I am grateful for your hospitality and for your kind doctors and nurses. That said, could have done without visiting you. No offense. At least our encounter reminded me of a few big things. I guess I am grateful for that too.

See you in a LONG while, I hope,
The Orange Rhino

*

I snuggled with my baby into the hospital bed, careful to not get twisted in all the wires coming off of him, careful not to wake him. I couldn’t stop staring at him sleeping peacefully in my arms. I couldn’t stop thinking how much I loved him. I couldn’t stop thinking how grateful I was he was okay. That he was going to be OKAY. I couldn’t stop thinking that even though I was told he was going to be okay, I still didn’t REALLY believe it.

And then the beeping started.

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep!

The alarm started sounding in the hospital room. #4’s heart rate had dropped…and mine sky rocketed. He started twitching again, I held him tighter, tried to hold him still. The computer screen flashed red and the nurse came rushing in.

“What’s wrong? What’s the alarm?!” I asked.

She examined him with an anxious calm about her.

“Ah, he pulled off his heart monitor. He must have gotten twisted in it in his sleep.  That was scary, wasn’t it. He’s okay.”

She looked at me and seemed to get that I didn’t believe her.

“He’s okay. He’s alright.” She repeated to me.

He was alright, but I was on alert, again. I still couldn’t rest. I still couldn’t breathe. This was MY baby. I knew I would love my children. I knew I would have a special bond with them. But I never knew the bond would be so incredibly powerful and all encompassing. I never knew that the bond would be so strong that the smallest thing would make me nervous; that the words “he’s okay” wouldn’t always be enough.

Soon after the Dr. arrived and announced that all the blood work was fine and that his fever came on so fast that it caused this response. He added as long as he doesn’t have any more seizure symptoms during this illness he’s fine. Otherwise, if he does, well then we will worry.

THEN we will worry? Doesn’t he know that I will worry until I know we are in the clear? Until I truly know that the seizure was a one off and that he is safe? That we are safe?

The Doctor left the room.

I tried to breathe but I still couldn’t exhale. I was still on alert, on fear that something bad was going to happen to my baby.

The Doctor returned to the room.

He wasn’t supposed to.

He had already said goodbye and good night. This time instead of standing at the bed to talk to me he walked right to the chairs and sat down and got comfortable. Which by the way made me feel completely UNCOMFORTABLE. What now? Why is he sitting? What does he have to tell me?

“Well, you know how I told you the blood work was fine?” Pause.

(Um, was the dramatic pause really necessary doctor? Do you really want me to pass out from a panic attack right here on the spot?)

“There are signs of a UTI. We’ll start antibiotics tonight. If he gets another UTI then you’ll need to see a specialist. It could be signs of a problem.”

And that was it. 5 hours and a few minutes later and theoretically I was allowed to breathe. My son was going to be OKAY, the doctor had sat for no major news,

And yet I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe. I still couldn’t exhale.

And one week later and a bit and I can’t. Because I am still in shock that I had to race my baby to a hospital. I am still scared. I am still petrified that he will have the symptoms of a seizure again and I will have to see him look that way again.

I watched his fever peak hit 105 twice over the weekend and it scared me that another “seizure” was going to come. I watched him in the days that followed more wobbly than ever on his feet and I worried that something was wrong. I woke him from naps covered in sweat and I worried that the fever was coming back. I listen to him cry out in pain in the middle of the night and then settle right back to sleep and I think is it just teething or is he still having bad dreams like me of having to rush to the hospital?

And I watch him laugh and smile and seem to be normal and I think, “it is OKAY. It is going to be OKAY he is fine. His fever is gone. No seizures. He is fine.”

And I still wait to exhale.

And I don’t think I will ever completely exhale.

Because I am a mom.

And I LOVE my sons so incredibly much that I want nothing but the best for them. I want them to be happy. To be healthy. To feel loved. To feel secure. To feel successful on their terms. I don’t want them ever be in pain, physically or emotionally.

And I can’t control that. I can’t always protect them. And for this reason I think I will never completely exhale. Because I will always have a small piece of me on alert hoping that they are okay, inside and out. Even when they are okay, I will have a small piece of me on alert hoping that they stay okay, that nothing happens to them.

But something will.

My boys will be in pain someday. They will hurt physically and emotionally. And all I can do then is hold their hands and comfort them and let them know that they are loved and that it will BE OKAY.

An Orange Rhino Revelation: This post has nothing to do with not yelling. But yet it does. Seeing my son in pain, and fearing that something was really wrong, brutally reminded me of my deep love for him and all that I wish for him in this world.

I want them to be happy. To be healthy. To feel loved. To feel secure. To feel successful on their terms. I don’t want them ever be in pain, physically or emotionally.

All those things I want for him? Yeah, yelling like a lunatic like I used to completely goes against my wishes for my son. I can’t always be with my sons and keep them safe and healthy and happy. I can’t always protect them from pain. But I CAN not add to it. I CAN not yell at them. That I can do. And that I will keep making a priority.