85 days down, 280 to go!

Dear #3,

I love you. I really do. I love you with all my heart. I love your crazy curly hair, I love your huge belly laugh, I love ridiculous facial expressions, I love your big hugs. I don’t however, love it when you scream. I don’t love it when you throw things. I don’t love it when you bang your head. In short, I love you, I don’t love your speech delay. In fact, I kind of hate it.

xoxo,
Mommy Orange Rhino

*

Way back when I posted “The Root of my Yelling” I shared this picture, sighting the reasons I am so impatient.

One driver was that well, kids can be annoying. And oh can they be. And under that I mentioned each child and their personal challenges. Well, dear wonderful #3 has a speech delay. And it sucks.

It sucks because I hear other moms gloating about how great their 18 month old is talking and I think, yeah, my 2.5 year old isn’t that far along. It sucks because I hear other 2.5 years olds talk, and communicate, and I think, yeah, I wish that was my son. Because if that was my son, then he wouldn’t be screaming in frustration. He wouldn’t be throwing things, in frustration. He wouldn’t be hitting himself, in frustration.

If my son didn’t have a speech delay, I feel like he would be happier. I know I would be. I know, how awful is it to say that? But it is the truth.

Because the screaming fits are unbearable. Watching him bang his head when we don’t him understand him? Unbearable. Getting hit in the head with a sippy cup because it is empty and he can’t explain the problem so he throws it? Unbearable.

Knowing that while we are making progress, we have hit a road block because of apparently another issue, even more unbearable.

Not only does #3 have a speech delay, but it seems he has some sensory issues as well. That problem probably reads like a foreign language to most of you. What the hell are “sensory issues?” Does that mean he is autistic? No. It just means he is over sensitive to senses. Okay, but what does that mean for #3?

In simple terms, for my dear #3, it means he won’t let anyone touch his face, or his tongue for that matter which makes speech therapy really challenging which in turn means the SCREAMING fits aren’t improving all that much. It means he is extra attached to certain objects because he likes how they feel and SCREAMS if anyone touches them. It means he can’t stand how socks feel, yet at the same time, has to always have shoes on and if one or the other doesn’t happen, he SCREAMS.

I can summarize #3 in one phrase: BIG laugh and BIG lungs. His laugh can lift you higher than high and his scream can put you lower than lower. Because when he screams, when he gets to that point, there is no stopping it. We can ignore it, we can politely remove him to the other room, we can say calmly “#3 use your words.” But half the time, no more, it doesn’t seem to stop the Screaming fit.

It’s infuriating. And it’s sad. Because I know he is just as infuriated. And probably sad too. That his brothers don’t always understand him. That he gets snapped at more than the others. That he experiences what he does.

And it just sucks. Not gonna lie. Not gonna sugar coat it. It sucks.

I know we are making progress. We are finally up to 4 word phrases! But there are times when I just lose my patience with the process. When I don’t want to have speech therapy 2x a week and now occupational therapy 2x a week. When I don’t want to clap my hands to each syllable as I talk. When I don’t want to walk around the house pointing to things trying to understand what he wants. When I don’t want to hear other kids has age talk because I find myself jealous. When I don’t want to pull over to the side of the road to get his slipper because it fell off and he is ballistic.

Because I had to do that today. For a slipper. And when I did, I did an oopsie snap.

“JUST STOP!”

And immediately he did. He stopped screaming and started looking sad. His eyes became still. His lips frowned. The hurt just radiated from him. It was awful. AWFUL awful awful. Because I love him so much and don’t want to snap at him for something that I know he is trying so hard to overcome. I immediately unbuckled him and held him.

He wrapped his little legs around my waste, his arms around my neck, and snuggled his head into my neck. I held him for 5 minutes. I closed my eyes and just told him over and over how much I love him. And thank God, he let me hold him. He let me love him. Because I needed him to know how much I love him and how awful I felt.

Fast forward an hour.

I am getting dressed. #3 looks at me and says,

“Mommy looks pretty.”

“Mommy is pretty.”

I burst into tears.

See, the thing about Speech Delays is that while they SUCK, they also have a fabulous way of making you appreciate the small things, like three word phrases. They make ordinary words never sound more beautiful.

Like at bedtime “Mommy, schnuggle me.”

He still has not unprompted said “Mommy, I love you.” And while I yearn to hear those words in his sweet little voice, I am not going to complain I haven’t heard them. Because when I do, I know it is going to be the most AMAZING feeling in the world. And until that moment, I am going to keeping using all the energy I can muster to be patient with him and not yell at him. Because guess what? Yelling at him when he’s frustrated instead of helping him learn how to communicate, will only set him back. And I love him too much to let that happen.

83 days down, 282 to go!

Dear Deep, Restful Sleep,

Where art thou? Why won’t you find me? It’s been almost two weeks straight now of restless sleep. I look like a zombie. I act like a zombie and well, I am starting to sound like one, mumbling unintelligible drink requests to the Starbucks barista. This is simply not good. I can’t blame it on the kiddos they aren’t sleeping worse than usual. I can’t blame in on staying up late, my bedtime hasn’t changed. So what can I blame it on but you? Oh, you want me to blame myself? To look at myself and admit that I am stressed and sad and feeling overwhelmed with worry about two of my sons? Yeah, no thank you. I am not ready to publicly do that.

Instead I will keep talking in my sleep, having bad nightmares, waking up in a sweat, waking up crankier than the day before. The only problem with this plan of mine? Of keeping all my worries in? Of accepting crappy sleep? It makes everything worse. It makes me more stressed, more sad, more overwhelmed and thus, much MUCH more likely to yell. Harumph. That’s the bad news.The good news? I have been forced to find some new ways to keep from yelling. But don’t be fooled, I still need sleep to help keep me from yelling. So could you try your hardest to find me?

Yawn,
The Orange Rhino,

*

Oh sleep. Gosh how I need it. I know that a few nights of good sleep would really help me snap out of this funk. So I am going to keep this post short tonight and get to bed.

Come Wednesday last week, about 10 days into restless sleep, I had had it. The kids were beyond on my nerves. To be fair, their behavior? Totally standard. Mine? Not acceptable. I was uber impatient and sensitive. Everything and anything they did made me want to hang my head against the wall. So lets just say that Wednesday was a long, brutal day of trying to keep it together.

At one point I literally had both hands in the air, above my head, prepared to slam them down onto the kitchen table in very high hopes of creating such a loud bang that it would startle the kids into quiet, good behavior.   Um, yeah, not proud of that parenting moment. And um yeah, totally embarrassed that that idea even crossed my mind.

But at least I had a good recovery.

I have NO IDEA how, or why, this idea came to me but I brought my hands down and started drumming the table in a rhythmic beat.  

Just like music class I guess. I increased the speed and the intensity of my drumming, faster and faster, harder and harder. The boys watched mesmerized.  It felt FANTASTIC. What a release. I kept going, and then at the end, stopped and said, “Attention Please” just like I imagined a drum major might do. And oh my god. It actually worked. I got my boys attention and diverted them from the joyous game of jumping on each other’s heads to the quieter game of Candyland. Score. 1 point for The Orange Rhino.

That lasted 15 minutes, MAX. Why? Because the baby woke up from his nap SCREAMING from his supposed tooth that is coming in. Well that just set everyone off, including me. The three older boys ALL started screaming. At the top of their lungs. Yeah, that type of screaming. It was awesome. I was surrounded by three screaming kiddos and had 1 screaming into my year. It was blissful. I wanted to join in the screaming fest but decided yelling at everyone to stop wasn’t worth it. So I did something weird. Again, NO IDEA where this one came from.

I cupped my hands like a megaphone, placed them in front of my mouth and started making “doot doot dooo” sounds, kind of to the tune of Superman.

My boys thought it was hilarious. Just their laughter alone eased my desire to yell. Phew, crisis 2 averted. Another point for The Orange Rhino.

I stumbled through the rest of the day, using all my strength to not yell. Ugh, what a mental workout! Dinner was minutes away and the joyous game of jumping on each other’s heads right near the coffee table had started again. Awesome. My FAVORITE game to break up. I just didn’t have the energy to get in the middle of the battle. I knew pulling 1 off of 2 would just free 2 to tackle 3 and so on and so forth. It’s a vicious cycle.

So I thought of my post from Monday night, promising to get on my back and shake my legs and arms in the arm like my husband did if I needed to laugh. And I did it. Of course I couldn’t get a picture, but I did get a good laugh! I stayed on the floor, on my back, shaking my groove thing for a good 3-5 minutes.

I looked like a fool. No doubt. But I gotta tell you, it really felt great. The being silly, the letting go, the not yelling. It all felt awesome. Added bonus that it stopped the boys AND double added bonus that they joined in. We all started howling and barking like dogs. Yup, a total sight.

Last Wednesday was Ruff (haha, sorry, couldn’t resist), but at least I did learn three alternatives to yelling: drumming the table, making a megaphone, and lying on my back and barking like a dog. Writing that all just makes me laugh. This challenge sure is making me do funny things….

Have you done anything silly instead of yelling?

82 days down , 283 to go.

Dear Orange Rhinos,

One day on vacation last week I had the fright of my life. I couldn’t find my 5.5 year old son. Below is my story. I share it with you so you can learn from my mistakes and hopefully not have to experience the gut wrenching fear that I did.

The Orange Rhino…

*

It was a beautiful sunny day. My husband generously offered to stay in the hotel room while #3 and #4 napped so that I could enjoy the day. So I took #1 (we’ll call him Gregory John in this post) and #2 to the pool for some serious splashing and swimming. I will tell you now that that morning I dressed the boys alike – bright orange swim suits, bright blue swim shirt, white hat and yellow life preservers. It’s important to note that I INTENTIONALLY dressed them this way so that they were easy to spot and easy to count. 1? Check! 2? Check! 3? Check! 4? Check! It’s a great system. And always works well for me when we are out in busy places. But it didn’t this day. Sigh.

It’s also important to note that I always, and I mean always, make my boys stay close to me (kidnapping is a huge fear of mine) and to tell me if they are walking away. Even if it is just a few feet. I am probably over the top on my rules with them but I would rather be safe than sorry. They are good boys, truly. They follow these rules 99.9% of the time, always checking in, always staying close. I have never had a fright until now. And it was a FRIGHT.

I was sitting pool side watching #1 and #2 play together. #2 asked to go on the water slide. I acknowledged him, said yes, and watched him like a hawk walk the 7 feet to the waterslide. Mind you it took me four days to feel comfortable with him going up without me. That is how anxious I am about these things.

Then I got up, told GREGORY that I was walking to the lounge chair, about 10ish feet behind me and that I would be right back and that he needed to stay put. I had done this several times before and NEVER had a problem. Mostly because I walked backwards to the chair so I could see him (no joke) and because Gregory isn’t a wanderer. So I didn’t worry. Until today.

I walked backwards to my chair, turned around for ~ 30 seconds to get a sip of water and then headed back to the pool. But Gregory wasn’t there. He couldn’t have gone far I thought to myself. He never walks away.

“Gregory? Gregory?” I called.

I turned around about five times. Scanning left, right, up, down, in the water. Everywhere. Gregory was NOWHERE to be found. I started walking away from our location. This time calling my son’s name a little louder as I walked. I was sure he was in the pool and that I just didn’t recognize him in the sea of yellow life jackets.

“GREGORY? GREGORY?”

Time passed. Probably only 2 minutes. It of course felt like more. I called again, this time with his middle name added, hoping that maybe there were two boys named Gregory and my son was confused.

“GREGORY JOHN! GREGORY JOHN. GREGORY JOHN!!!”

I was no longer calling him as a question, knowing I will get an answer, but calling him with fear. And it was escalating. My heart started racing. And then I started racing, running around the pool deck SCREAMING his name in a way I have never experienced.

My voice rattled with every “GREGORY JONH!” I screamed.  My voice reached as loud as it could, quickly becoming sore, quickly becoming more panicked. “GREGORY JOHN!” The tears started filling my eyes. Even though the pool was enclosed, I feared the worst. That someone had taken him, a hotel guest, and nonchalantly slipped out. I feared that he was gone.

I ran to the lifeguard.

“My son is missing. I can’t find my son.”

The lifeguard did NOTHING. That’s right. NOTHING.

So I started running around faster, hoping people would get off their lazy asses, put down their margaritas and help me.

NOTHING. That’s right. NOTHING. No one moved. They all just watched me, a crying, desperately afraid mama wearing a bathing suit that was half falling down due to small boobs and half way up my ass due to a large well, ass, and did NOTHING. I could not believe it. Did anyone have a heart?

Finally one nice man got up. “What does your son look like? What is he wearing?”

And I froze. Absolutely froze.

I didn’t know. I couldn’t answer him. In the moment of pure stress I couldn’t tell him what Gregory looked like and what he was wearing DESPITE all my intentional efforts to dress him in a particular outfit for this exact reason.

So I kept running. And so did he. Both of us screaming “GREGORY JOHN” at the top of our lungs.

Someone said to me “Don’t worry, you’ll find him, he didn’t just disappear.”

I know she was trying to be reassuring. But would have been reassuring is if she got up and HELPED me.

Finally, and I mean finally after what felt like forever, chills going down my body right now as I recall that moment, some wonderful gentleman yelled down from the top of the water slide, holding a sad looking boy, and said “is this your son?”

I looked up. It was. Tears fell even harder, as much as they are right now reliving this, as I ran, not walked, but RAN up the 50 stairs to get to my Gregory John. I lifted him up and held him so tight. I didn’t want to let go. But he made me. He pushed me back and looked at me, sad, scared, and embarrassed.

“Mommy, you yelled at me. You yelled at me all over the pool. I want to go home right now. I don’t want to swim ever again. I am so embarrassed.”

I KNEW he felt badly. I KNEW he knew exactly what was up. There was ZERO point yelling at him. And besides, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to hold him forever and make sure he knew why I was yelling like that, that I wasn’t yelling at him, but that I was calling his name.

“Gregory, look at mommy’s face. It isn’t mad. It is sad. And scared. I love you so much. I really thought I lost you and that I would never see you again.”

“Let’s go home mommy.”

I picked him up and carried him down the 50 stairs. It was the longest yet easiest flight of stairs I have ever walked. Just knowing that I found my son, that he wasn’t missing, made all the hard work feel like nothing.

We collected #2 as he flew out of the water slide and went to the lounge chair to talk. At this point, I am still crying, out of sadness, joy, and quite frankly, embarrassment. I shared my son’s embarrassment, not only did I look silly running around, but I looked like an a*shole for not knowing where my son was.

So we sat down on the chair and held each other and cried. And snuggled. And cried some more. Finally, we were both clear headed enough to talk. Not yell, but talk.

“Gregory, why did you walk away from me? I was so scared that someone took you?”
“But mommy, I told you I was going on the water slide.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did. I whispered it to you.”

And that is when the light bulb went off. I had taught him to tell me if he was walking away from me but NEVER did I teach him to make sure I heard him, to make sure that I ACKNOWLEDGED what he said and said okay.

And that is where I failed here. He did everything I had taught him to do. I just didn’t know I had to teach him the other piece. Because I have never been a mom before.

Seeing as I was calm and not yelling, I was able to clearly explain this important piece to him, that he needs to be acknowledged before leaving.  And seeing as I hadn’t yelled at him, he was calm and able to understand and internalize what I was saying.

“I get it mom. You need to hear me and tell me it is okay to walk away.”

“Yes, that is right. I’ll give you a thumbs up and say OK.”

The rest of the day and STILL, almost 10 days later, if Gregory John wants to walk out of site, he asks, then waits for the thumbs up and the OK! And I credit The Orange Rhino Challenge for that. Because before The Challenge, I would have yelled. Maybe not horrifically, but bad enough so that Gregory wouldn’t have been receptive to learning, and internalizing, the important lesson at hand. And trust me, he got the point. Oh did he get it.

I got the point too, lots of them actually.

1)      It really does just take a second

2)      It really is important to know what your child is wearing…and when it matters most is when you will forget. Mental note to self: when on vacation, or anywhere that is crowded and new, and extra susceptible to shady behavior, TAKE A PICTURE of your kids before you start playing. With phones these days, that is a 5 second habit that is totally worth it.

3)      It really does pay off to not yell…because most of the time when I want to yell the worst, is when I need to teach them the most and who learns well when being yelled at? Who remembers “the lesson” when being yelled at? I know I sure don’t. I know my son doesn’t either.

And I also know that I love my son immensely. And I am so grateful that this story turned out as a learning opportunity, and not the other way around….

78 days down, 287 to go!

Dear Vacation,

I have a terrible case of missing you. In fact, I have the most wicked Vacation Hangover ever. I don’t want to do anything but stay in bed in the fetal position and hope I feel better, fast. My head is pounding with all I have to do. My stomach is nauseous from all the extra delicious food I ate. And while my mind is remembering what fun I had, it is also struggling knowing the hard work ahead of getting back into the swing of things again. Ugh.

See you sooner than later, I hope,
The Orange Rhino

*

I have a huge case of the Vacation Blues. Why? Because I finally feel like I had a vacation. Haven’t felt that way since oh, 2006 when my first son was born! I have spent (wasted?) the last 6 years of family vacations complaining that my vacations weren’t really vacations, that I still had to “work,” that vacations with kids are more work than not-vacationing. And well, yeah, they kind of are.

There is no denying that vacations as a young family are a heck of a lot of work.

All the planning that goes into finding a family friendly place. All the packing of the extra sets of clothes in case of accidents, the sippy cups and snack cups, the toys for the hotel room, the medicines. All the travel, the endless hours in a car listening to the questions “are we there yet? I’m hungry. I have to pee. He looked at me.” All the lost sleep from shorter or no naps, from going to bed late because of excitement and waking up early with the same excitement. All the parental exhaustion from kids being super-excited-over-the-top-hyper-happy from being somewhere new. All the tears about vacation ending followed by all the unpacking at home, All the re-entering back home, the repeat of all the tears.

Simply put, vacations with my young family are lots of extra hard work and NONE of the extra rest and relaxation one expects from vacation.

Sure, my vacations have felt like a break by offering new scenery and new things to do and sure they have created wonderful memories, but they haven’t seemed like a TRUE vacation. A much needed vacation. You know, one where I get to sleep in late, where I get to sit around and do nothing except maybe put my feet up while reading a magazine front to back (GASP!), one where I can come and go as I please with no, and I repeat NO time constraints.

Until now.

This past week, my vacation FINALLY felt like more than a break. It felt like a TRUE vacation. And it was great. Oh so amazing.

Here’s the best part. I had all 4 kids in tow. I didn’t sleep late, not even close. In fact, my baby had me up 4-5 times a night and my 5 year old had me up at 5 am every day. And I didn’t get to put my feet up accept if you count the time at the restaurant when somehow #3 snuck out of his seat and was crawling under the table, under my feet. But I DID (for the most part) have no time constraints. And that made it feel like a vacation.

Why? Because I FINALLY woke up/grew up/realized/learned from my Orange Rhino experience that I needed to change my expectations in order to enjoy my vacations.

And all I wanted from this vacation was a week free of constraints and full of uninterrupted family time. That to me would be rest and relaxation.

And I got it.

I got to hang out with my family free from phone calls, emails, texts. Free of my to-do list. Free of driving my kids everywhere, all day. No school schedule to follow, no enrichment class drop-offs and pick-ups, no therapy appointments. The only appointment I had was with my family. Just my hubby, my kids and me. Chilling.

My boys. All four little ones dressed in my favorite new color. Couldn't resist...orange makes me happy and when I see it, it keeps me from yelling. Seriously!

And it was awesome.

Simply not being at the mercy of my 4 kids’ chauffer needs, not being stuck in my uber cool minivan was a vacation.  Not having to look at my to-do list because I promised myself I wouldn’t was a vacation. Having permission to eat out more and eat less healthy, was a vacation. Being able to sit outside and hear the ocean at nap time, even if it meant I was still tied to a nap schedule, felt like a vacation. Being able to spend more time with my baby because I didn’t have to take his older brothers everywhere, REALLY felt like a vacation.

And it was grand.

But now I am back.

And it is not so grand.

My to-do list multiplied. The kids don’t want to go to school. We all want to be eating junk food galore. And I don’t have any desire to get into my mini-van and drive anywhere. I feel massively overwhelmed. I’ve been “back” for 48+ hours and have nearly hyperventilated three to four times. I have sat and stared at my to-do list in a trance for at least a total of 48 minutes. This Vacation Hangover is the worse I have ever had (well, after my Honeymoon of course.) Because this vacation was so great. All because I changed my expectations.

Who knew that changing my Expectations could have such a powerful impact???
(Um, you did Orange Rhino. That is one of the first things you realized when learning to not yell. A lot of your expectations of your boys were too high. You set yourself up for disappointment in your kid’s behavior. You set yourself up to be frustrated…you set yourself up to yell. You have learned to chill out, to not necessarily lower, but to adjust your expectations, and wow what a difference.I think you subconsciously know this and adjusted vacation expectations accordingly. Another point for the O.R. Challenge benefits!)

But as great as this vacation was, this Hangover is not! It needs to take a hike. I can’t stay in bed and dream of being back on vacation. And I can’t keep walking around with this grudge on my shoulder that I am back because it is making me want to yell at Every. Single. Thing. My kids do.  And I can’t just take two advil and drink Gatorade to feel better.

I have to keep taking each day a moment at a time, I have to keep taking it slow, I have to keep taking deep breaths as needed and telling myself when overwhelmed “you can do this, you CAN do this” I have to keep doing what I do when trying not to yell. This has been immensely helpful these last two days let me tell you! It no doubt has kept me from having an absolute sob fest on the kitchen floor. Every hour.

It’s amazing. I set out on The Orange Rhino Challenge hoping to stop yelling. I never thought that in learning to not yell at my kids, that the skills I acquired would help me in the rest of my life, like learning how to FINALLY enjoy a family vacation and how to recover from a Vacation Hangover! Who would have thunk it? Not me. But I’ll take it.

P.S. You know what else is amazing? In changing my expectations I realized something cool. I don’t need to go anywhere to have a vacation. When I need some rest and relaxation, I am losing the keys to my mini-van for a day, turning off my phone and computer, and eating delicious junk food with my boys. Maybe I’ll even make frozen strawberry daiquiri’s (virgin of course) to share with them! 

77 days without yelling, 288 to go!

Is it Tuesday?

Is it the night I vowed to open up the blog
for questions about anything and everything
related to The Orange Rhino Challenge?

Because I am so dazed and confused
after just getting back from my “staycation”
I can’t tell what day it is or what kid needs to be where when.

But I do know that I like your questions.
All of them. Those posted in the comments,
those emailed directly, those posted on FB.

So I ask you, do you have any questions? 

If not, I have a question for you.

If you could get one thing out of reading this blog, out of following and/or taking The Orange Rhino Challenge, what is it? Inspiration? Ideas? Support? Community? A good laugh? Be honest. Tell me.

Comment below or email me directly at:
theorangerhinochallenge@gmail.com

I want to hear from you!

76 days down, 278 to go!

Dear Mommy Baby Spot,

I am sad. I totally have Vacation Blues. I am trying to get up and running, to get back into the swing of things but the problem is, I have no desire to! I have no desire to look at my to-do list, to start driving kids back and forth, to be constrained by time commitments. I just want to be lazy. Harumph. Coming back from vacation is so brutal! Normally I feel this way for 3-5 days. Seriously. But not this time. Tonight I told myself I would reply to your question you posted last week. In doing so, it made me laugh and smile. It cheered me right up. So thank you. I hope it makes you laugh too…it should!

Smile,
The Orange Rhino

*

Question: Have you had any moments turn funny now that you’re not yelling…where before it may have been yelling and tears?

Answer: Yes, lots of times. But it is not that the moments turned funny, they already were funny. Not yelling forces me to stop and think. And in situations like the following, that brief pause allows me to see the humor, to appreciate the humor and to chill out, instead of getting all revved up. Sometimes, you just have to laugh, either out loud or in your head. Because what else can you do??? Yell, and feel crappy or Laugh, and feel better?

Take here for example. It was dinner time. I had called #1 to come downstairs more than once. He was busy and refusing to come. I couldn’t leave the three kids in the kitchen with the stove on. As I went near the stairs for my last plea, both to #1 and to the no-yelling-fairies to keep me from losing it, Mr. Walking Closet appeared:
I mean really, what else could I do but laugh? Can you count the number of different articles of clothing? He wanted to change but couldn’t decide on what. So he wore everything, hence the delay. Hilarious if you ask me…

Then there was the moment I turned around and saw this:

What a sad looking milk “carton.” All alone in the middle of my kitchen floor. No cookies for dipping, no orange juice by his side. All alone. At first I wanted to scream at #2 for taking the milk out and leaving it there to go rotten. But then I got the camera and took this picture. Because whenever do you find Milk in the middle of the floor like this? It was kind of funny. What else could I do but laugh?

Well I guess I could have poured the milk on the floor and played slip and slide with everyone, but that would have been a sticky mess. Kind of like this:

#3 didn’t like that his pasta, Ditalini, was all cut up into  small pieces. He thought I had meanly cut it up, which of course, I hadn’t. So he dumped his whole bowl out and sat at his seat for 25 minutes fastidiously trying to put his pasta back together. Needless to say it didn’t work. But it did keep me from yelling. He was just so focused and cute about his “broken pasta” that I couldn’t help but laugh. Besides, paper towel was invented for a reason. I could easily clean up the mess.

This mess however, not so easy to clean up:

Dear #4 kindly threw up while in the Exersaucer. Of course I wouldn’t yell at him for this, but the mess – and the smell – made me want to scream! It was everywhere. Not only did it splash into the bottom part, but it filled every hole in every toy on top. Normally this would have put me over the edge – would have made me cranky all day, prime for snapping and yelling. But when I looked down and saw that #4 was dancing in his throw up, I had to laugh. He had created his own slip in slide and was happy as a pig in sh*t.

Speaking of a pigsty…

#1 and #2 were supposed to be having quiet time one day while I put #3 and #4 for a nap. When I went to get them this is what I found:

Yes, that would be the mattress and the boxspring on the floor, along with ALL of #2’s clothing from his closet and ALL of his books from his bookshelf. Awesome. Old me, totally would have lost it. Old me would have seen a mess that even with their help, would have taken too much time to clean up. Old me would have seen a nuisance and would have screamed, not yelled, but screamed, WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING???? But the new me just laughed. Why?

Because when I opened the door #2, the one on the bed said “Oh shit, we’re busted, hide!” Okay first off, he said “oh shit.” Awesome parenting. Second, does it look like he is doing a good job hiding? Um, no. Too funny. Too, too funny. Now to be clear, I didn’t laugh out loud. That would have encouraged this behavior which although funny to me and them, this is not sometime I want to deal with on a regular occurrence. So I laughed to myself.

The beauty of laughing at the situation – whether it be to myself, like here, or out loud, is that it makes me re-group and talk to my kids nicer and in a more positive manner which has a better chance of them getting it…and added bonus, it doesn’t destroy their spirit! I believe what I said here was something along the lines of:

“Well, it is nice to see you two playing together and having such fun. Aren’t you boys strong (they thought they were, and well, it took a lot of strength to move the bed.) I know you are strong enough to help me put your room back together because this is not what we do to our bedrooms.” Much better alternative to yelling and tears, at least in my book.

And if all else fails and I can’t find the humor in a situation, then I try to create it. I try to break the ice. One day I had had it. HAD IT. I was ready to scream when instead I said, “Okay, raise your hands if you need a break?”

My husband, immediately, and I mean immediately, did this:

He might not like this picture of his a*s, but how funny. He dropped and put 4 “hands” in the air. Just that made me laugh and I felt better. All the growing anger and frustration left my body. Laughter completely made me re-set.

I guess laughter really is the best medicine? I know for me it works wonders…

It sure did tonight when I needed a pick me up. Hopefully tomorrow I will find more humor to help me completely kick these Vacation Blues and to keep me from yelling. Here’s hoping…Scratch that. Hoping leaves it up to someone else. Here’s FINDING humor tomorrow. Because it is there to be found. And if not found, it is there to be made. Maybe tomorrow when, not if (haha), I am ready to lose it I will just drop on my back and put my “fours” in the air like my husband and act like a dog. That sounds ridiculous. But it totally would ease my tension. I’ll let you know how it goes. I bet kids and I will be laughing…why don’t you try it too?

73 days down, 292 to go!

I normally don’t post on a Friday night but…don’t know if I will be able to post Sunday night as planned so thought I would re-share this post because the stories are two of my favorite reasons why I am glad I have taken on this Challenge. And guess what? 61 days later I can still say the same thing – change is happening in my house. And it is good. Really, really good…

February 19, 2012 

12 days down, 353 to go!

Dear Midnight,

While it was all fun and games hanging out with you these last four nights so that I could “launch” my blog about Not Yelling, it came very close to being counterproductive. Whenever I hang with you, I am WIPED out the next day, the day after and the day after that. And when I am WIPED, I am so much more inclined to yell. And today was no different, actually it was worse. Because last night you introduced me to your friend 1 am and his friend tequila. I certainly haven’t flirted with them in over 15 years. Why I thought it necessary to do so to celebrate my birthday…when I never really drink…and when now I have 4 kids who get up at 6am is beyond me! But alas, I did.

And guess what, against all odds, I made it through today…with a raging headache, 20 hours of sleep collectively over the last four nights, and 4 cranky over-tired-because-of-baby-sitter-last-night children all WITHOUT yelling. I’m still in shock. But don’t get any ideas, just because today went well doesn’t mean we’ll be hanging out anytime soon. If I want to do well on this challenge, I need my sleep.  Speaking of, it’s 8:11.

Good night,

The Orange Rhino

*

Seriously, I’m in shock. Shock, shock, shock. I truly am a yeller. And yet here I am, having gone 12 days without yelling. I just can’t believe it. I truly didn’t think I had it in me. I kind of just assumed I was a Yeller, that it was ingrained in me, a behavior that I couldn’t change. But I am ecstatic to be wrong…this little chat from today is why:

Me:        “#1 (5 years old), so how is mommy doing now with the no yelling thing?”

#1:          “Great. You’re doing great mommy.”

Me:        “Who do you like more, Mommy or Mommy Orange Rhino?”

#1:          “Mommy Orange Rhino. She’s not mean. She doesn’t hurt my feelings and say not nice things.”

Me:        “Oh. Anything else?”

#1:          “Yeah. Mommy Orange Rhino is the bestest.”

He then gave me a huge hug and a kiss. I kid you not.

Wow.

Just thinking about that conversation again blows me away. I don’t know what has me more in shock – the unsolicited hug or the 12 days of not yelling. You see, my son is not one to offer up free hugs and kisses (he just doesn’t like all the physical contact). So for him to suddenly be giving me random hugs and kisses? Well, let’s just say that it made me cry then and its making me cry now.  That’s a pretty damn good sign that this silly project of mine is very well worth my effort. He is totally worth my effort. I’ve lost a lot of sleep and dropped the ball on a lot these last few weeks so I could get this Blog going. But guess what?

A random hug from my son telling me I’m the bestest? Totally worth every lost hour of sleep.

Some change is happening in this household, something good.  I’m going to embrace it and keep finding all the strength I have to not yell. Even if it means sometimes (like tonight!) ignoring the dishes, the piles that need picking up, the bills that need paying, and everything else on my to-do list just so that I can go to bed early and get the rest I need to succeed in this challenge. But if I don’t get the sleep I need, because that is how life goes sometimes, at least now I know that even if I am exhausted, I CAN control my voice. I CAN not yell. It’s my choice.

After #1 told me I was the Bestest he disappeared. The house was too quiet. He came back find me and told me he had brushed his teeth. Oh? In the middle of the day? Without being asked? I didn’t say anything, I just waited.Then he looked up, looked me in the eyes and said:

“Mommy, I had 4 of daddy’s valentines chocolates you gave him. And I didn’t ask. But I did brush my teeth. And they were really good. Are you mad?”

Was I mad? Yeah, a little. Eating that many chocolates is generally not good for my son’s ability to stay calm  but how could I be mad since he told me and was so honest? And for the record, he was very hesitant to tell me. No problem telling me he brushed his teeth, but clearly very worried to tell me about the chocolates. It’s like he expected me to yell at him. Sigh. Can I really blame him?

BEFORE, I would have yelled at him and lectured him on not asking for permission and sugar isn’t good for you and blah, blah, blah. And he wouldn’t have heard a word I said. This time, when I talked to him about it, he actually listened.

Again, the theme of the day. Shock. I’m absolutely shocked.

And so, I’m still choosing to not yell. I’ll take hugs and kisses and honesty over yelling any day of the week.

70 days down, 295 to go!

Dear The Orange Rhino, a.k.a me,

Do Orange Rhinos stampede? (Sure, why not.)

Do Orange Rhinos really exist? (Sure, in our community they do.)

Are all your clothes orange now? (Yes, just about.) Really? (Yeah, getting there.)

Do you know the answer to everything?
(Nope, not at all. But I still like being asked questions, especially about taking the Orange Rhino Challenge as it forces me to reflect.)

So please…ask me questions! Once a week, like TONIGHT, I am going to open up the blog for YOUR QUESTIONS. Please post your questions in the comment section below. Any and all questions are welcome, ie:

• Why do I feel like giving up yelling is like giving up drugs or chocolate?
• How do you not yell at your kids during a pillow fight? Walk me through it?
• Do you really feel like a better person?
• Why should I do this Challenge?
• So now that you don’t yell, is there anything else you wish you didn’t do as a mom?

69 days down, 296 to go!

Dear Orange Rhinos,

I am on a “Staycation” this week and have two great guest blogs for you to read. When I first looked for volunteers, Darlene from MommyBabySpot, immediately offered up. Given her enthusiasm for the challenge and her honesty, I really looked forward to her post and was not disappointed.

Happy reading,
The Orange Rhino

*

About a month ago, I discovered a shocking fact: I have a yelling problem. This isn’t something I’ve had all my life, rather the opposite actually. I’ve always been the first one to attempt to remain calm and talk through a difficult situation. But, my soon-to-be 3 year-old son combined with my 5 month old son and a rather stressful life has served to undermine my calm collectedness. It had been brewing and getting worse for about 7 or 8 months and finally reached a head.

My name is Darlene and I am a yell-oholic.

My oldest, Avery, has been the one who has witnessed this transformation of his chill Mommy. So what happened? It’s not just that I have a toddler and a baby, but there’s much more to it. I feel I need to give a brief overview of the past 12 months or so of my life so you can see why I’ve snapped (this is by no means a “look how awesome I am” list, just a bit of background):

• I am a 28 year-old single mom and a stay-at-home mom (I don’t get many breaks)
• I moved a pregnant me and toddler back into my parents’ basement (still living there) after fleeing a bad relationship
• I gave birth in November to Ranger
• I finished my BA in December (I wore Ranger the last 3 weeks of classes) – it took me 10 years to finish but I did it! *pats self on back*
• I am working towards my ICEA childbirth educator certification as well as my breastfeeding counselor certification
• I am trying to start a childbirth education business, blog and youtube channel
• I try to help as much as I can with my developmentally disabled brother
• I feel huge amounts of guilt for not giving Avery and Ranger the attention they need and deserve as I try to get back on my feet and start this business

So, as you may have surmised from the above list, I’ve been a little stressed lately. Poor Avery has been adjusting to all of the things I’m trying to accomplish, a baby brother and trying his best to be a happy 2 year-old and in the process severely pushing my buttons. It wasn’t his fault I didn’t have time to focus on him like I used to. It wasn’t his fault that he has the energy of a two-year-old and is trying any way possible to get Mom’s attention. Yelling was not helping!

I realized one day, while trying desperately to put Ranger down for a nap and shut Avery up, that I was turning into one of those mothers I never wanted to be. Avery was screaming back at me, I was furiously telling him to just be quiet, the baby was crying because Mom was suddenly a banshee…and then I just stopped. I put the baby down, walked over to Avery and gave him a big hug and told him how very sorry I was and that I would try hard to get back to being a good Mommy and showing him how much I love him.

He must have understood because he got quiet and we both just hugged for a minute.

I had no idea how I was going to pull that promise off, but I knew I had to. I want both of my sons to be happy and I realized I was making everyone miserable (including my parents). I didn’t want Ranger to see me as this yelling woman carrying him around and I didn’t want Avery to fear me.

I hated seeing that fear and dread in his eyes along with that need for my love and attention.

Soon after this incident, I was working on my blog (or maybe Facebook page) and came across The Orange Rhino. I read her posts, read what she was about and breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t alone! There were other moms struggling with the same thing I was and wanting to stop. I signed up immediately. I’ve taken on the entire 365 day challenge.

It’s been HARD!

I haven’t been yelling that long but it’s still not an easy habit to break. Yelling stopped everyone in their tracks and got things accomplished…sorta. It also broke down my boys and destroyed our relationship.

I am currently at 5 days with no yelling and I feel great. It’s taken me about 2 weeks or so to get here, but I haven’t yelled since Good Friday and this is the longest I’ve been able to go. I have noticed that when I have yelled recently, it’s become something that is over quickly instead of the tirades I used to go on. I’ll yell one word just to get Avery’s attention, but I’ve even stopped doing that lately.

I’m already noticing a change in my relationship with Avery. I’m more loving towards him (I had gotten to the point of not enjoying our time together) and he’s more responsive and happier. Ranger seems happier too, more laid back and not as quick to have a total melt down. I feel better about my parenting and like I’m more in control of the situations. I’ve even gotten back into setting aside time twice a day to totally focus on Avery and do some sort of activity with him as well as giving him quiet him-and-mommy reading time before bed.

Yelling has been replaced with the question: “Is what you are doing a good idea?” Maybe Avery’s a bit young to really ‘get’ that question, but it makes him stop and I help him decide that he needs to stop and redirect his energy. I’ve also started telling him to look at me when I’m explaining something or asking him to stop his unacceptable behavior. This helps me feel like he’s listening and I can also read him better and adjust my message to suit his understanding and mood.

But, I have to admit…I haven’t only stopped yelling. Avery’s behavior had become alarming to me. So, along with not yelling I’ve also cracked down on Avery’s food and mine. I have cut out junk food and as much processed food as possible. So, no yelling and a healthy diet have already changed my relationship with my boys and the harmony of our little family.

Thanks Orange Rhino for the community and support to help me stop yelling and repair my family.

*

You’re most welcome! Thank you for your honesty and sharing with us. One of my favorite parts (besides the obvious how strong you are for leaving a bad relationship, how determined you were to get your BA, how courageous you are for wanting to change amidst such stress), was how you phrased what yelling and not yelling have done to your family. You wrote:

“…Yelling broke down my boys and destroyed our relationship.” Wow. Such a powerful statement, one that I think many of us can relate to, even if we don’t want to admit it.

You also wrote how in not yelling for just 5 days you’re more loving and your sons are happier. Wow. Another powerful statement, one that I think we all dream of. Being more loving and having happier children.

This no yelling thing is kind of cool, right?

62 days down, 303 to go!

Dear Orange Rhino readers,

Given the response to last night’s blog I feel obliged to share with you a story B.C. (before challenge). What I am about to share is embarrassing (at least in my eyes) but I share it with you for two reasons: 1) to show you that I was indeed a yeller and 2) to show you the power of The Orange Rhino Challenge, how it has changed me.

Read tonight’s post and then yesterdays if you have the time 🙂 Look at the difference! Taking this challenge has changed me in so many ways. Besides the fact that I am now uber cheesy, writing things like CHOOSE LOVE, I am actually a more positive, patient, calm, loving person. And I am like this in all aspects of my life, not just parenting. Because the adjustments I am making to keep from yelling are spilling over into the rest of my life, ie. yesterday’s story where I didn’t dwell, or yell, where I chose to not be angry because I knew it wouldn’t do a darn thing. That story would have had a different ending if it weren’t for The Orange Rhino Challenge. It would have looked more like this…

Enjoy,
The Orange Rhino

*

Date:   April 2011 (a year ago almost to the day!)

Background:
Every month for 7 months straight, #3 would get a 104+ fever that would last for 5-7 days. During the fever, he wouldn’t eat or drink due to mouth sores and severe lethargy. When the fever broke the dehydration and starvation would hit…along with a huge wave of cantankerous behavior and screaming fits out of the blue that lasted for up to an hour. And nothing would soothe him. Nothing. It was MISERABLE.

So here we are 7 months into #3’s mystery illness. I am about 7 months pregnant and my boys are 4 ½ year old, 3 years old, and 19 month old.

It’s a beautiful spring day. Flowers are blooming, birds are chirping, sky is blue and a light breeze is blowing. It was the perfect day right out of a movie. We were having work done to our kitchen so we had to go out to lunch. Okay, I thought, what a great opportunity to try the new burger joint (I can’t even remember the name because I blocked it out.) Being wicked pregnant and all, the idea of a burger and fries sounded beyond delicious. Especially since I would have a babysitter in tow and could actually sit and enjoy said burger.

Or so I thought.

I purposely went out to eat early, before the crowds, just in case #3 had a meltdown since we were in a post fever week. I figured at 11:15 at a casual, almost McDonald’s type place we would be safe.

Boy was I wrong.

The minute, no I mean second, I opened the door #3 started one of his out of control, horrific, miserable tantrums. As #3 started up, and I tried to hold him and soothe him all while carrying a huge baby bump, my babysitter took #1 and #2 to the bathroom. And that’s when I felt them.

The two blue, almost silver eyes, no daggers, glaring at me from across the restaurant. They were so full of venom that I literally felt them tearing me apart. Judging me. Ridiculing me. Resenting me. Hating me. Hating my child.

I was trapped. Literally, and emotionally.

I couldn’t leave because my boys were in the bathroom. I couldn’t leave because I was so appalled and hurt by this man’s glare that I was paralyzed with sadness. Sadness from having a sick child who I hadn’t been able to help for months. A sick child who I literally just had 12 vials of blood taken that week to see what was wrong. To see if maybe something was seriously wrong. Like really really wrong.

I was trapped and I didn’t know what to do. I kept trying to soothe #3. We walked away from the man but I refused to leave. I refused to give him, the ONE man in the restaurant the satisfaction. But then I had enough. My pregnancy hormones got the best of me.

Me:  “Excuse me, do you have a problem?

Jerk:  “Yeah I do. Your kid. You. Take him outside.”

Me:  “I can’t. I’m waiting for my family and our food. He’s hungry. He just needs to eat.”

Jerk: “Well, I’m trying to enjoy my lunch here. Take him elsewhere. You’re not even trying to stop him.”

I’m not even trying??? EXCUSE ME? Who the h*ll did he think he was? I was trying my damndest. What did he think I should be doing, yelling at my kid???? I am the FIRST to take my child out of a restaurant when they misbehave and are disruptive. But not here. This was a fast food, child friendly place. I had just as much right as he did to stay in there.

Oh did the tears of frustration and sadness start. And they FLOWED. At this point more people were coming in. The jerk’s eyes kept glaring but now were accompanied by a shake of the head. Look down, shake head, look up, Glare. Look down, share head, look up, Glare.  Repeat.

My babysitter came out with my boys, saw me crying and asked what was wrong. Bawling (hello pregnancy hormones!) I said:

“That mean man is picking on me and #3. I can’t soothe him. Let’s try to eat and if that doesn’t work, we’re out of here. ”

Just as I said that I decided no bloody way was this man winning. I wanted to sit and enjoy my fries because they were ridiculous. I stood up, stuck my pregnant belly out, took #3 on my hip and marched right over to him. But this time it wasn’t just him vs me. We had an audience. Oh yeah, my immature side was ready to come out and put on a show.

“Excuse me.”

He didn’t look up. Oh he knew what was coming.

“Excuse me.” I said, this time louder, more like a yell…

“Do you have kids?”

“Yes I do.”

“Well I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry that their dad has no heart. And no patience. I feel sorry for your wife that you would look at me, a pregnant mom STRUGGLING and working her ass off to help her child, and not offer help, but just judgment and criticism.”

Now the tears were really flowing. Thank you hormones for the dramatic gesture.

“And guess what. My son’s tantrum? It’s because he’s sick. Really sick. And we don’t know what’s wrong with him. In fact, he was just tested for Leukemia this week. Leukemia. Do you know what that is? Yeah that’s right. So how about that??? Next time you want to judge a mom, get all the facts.”

I turned around. Mouths were dropped. The place was quiet.

I was mortified.

Finally one of the cashiers stood up for me and brought me napkins and a water. I asked her for a take out bag. She readily obliged. I think everyone wanted me the heck out of there.

My kids looked at me.

“Mommy, why do we have to leave?”

“Because that jerk wasn’t being nice.”

“Mommy, what’s a jerk?”

Oi vey. Add that word to the list of things they shouldn’t know at their young ages.

*

I haven’t been back to that Burger Joint since. And I just remembered the name. SmashBurger. Well isn’t that appropriate. I now remember wanting to go over and smash his burger and say “Here’s your SmashBurger you a*shole.”  But I think I did enough damage that day.

I can easily say that he deserved to be yelled at it, that it was okay. But it wasn’t. I could have been more “eloquent” in my message. And I can easily say that yelling made me feel better. But it only did for a moment. Because once I started yelling, I couldn’t stop. And by the time I did, I was embarrassed by my tirade. Really embarrassed. So embarrassed in fact that I won’t go back to that restaurant out of fear of having someone recognize me…1 year later.

So once again, yelling didn’t achieve anything, because that guy is probably still a jerk, because I scared my kids and simultaneously taught them how NOT to handle a tough situation. And because that restaurant probably still has unbelievable french fries that I am too afraid to go and enjoy. And I really like French fries. And more importantly, I really love my kids and don’t like to scare them.Oh, Orange Rhino Challenge, where were you when I needed you?! Just glad that I found you….

(P.S. My son is healthy now.Phew.)