This morning started out lovely enough. David had a few hiccups but we resolved them with kindness and patience. And then the rest of the morning was nice as we ate breakfast together, read our book (we’re reading The Borrowers) and then they played together as I journaled a bit.
But then things got ugly.
As it got time to leave, I asked David to get ready and he started getting snappy. He talked back to me in a tone that’s unacceptable, to me. Even worse, it’s the kind of tone that transforms me from kind, gentle mommy to mean, hurtful mommy. I literally lose my mind.
So as we got ready for the car, I was very upset. The first thing I told him was a list of privileges he would lose for his attitude and then I just kept going and going the whole way to school. Out came the laundry list of things. I couldn’t stop the verbal diarrhea. I said things I am not proud of and things I am not sure he understood. I felt a strong need for him to “get it.” I wanted him to understand that the tone of voice was disrespectful and I wanted him to understand that we make right choices because they’re the “right” choices not because we don’t want to get caught.
I told him he needed to do be able to do what’s right because it’s the moral thing to do.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t getting it. I could tell he felt sorry but I just really needed him to understand so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation again.
He was crying, I was crying. It wasn’t pretty. As I dropped him off, I felt terrible that we were parting this way. I told him not to worry and that we’d work it out and that I loved him.
But the minute he was gone, I felt overcome with shame and worry.
I wanted to run right back in and tell him how much I loved him and how sorry I was for breaking his little heart. At that moment, nothing mattered except healing the hurt.
I felt so so bad all day that I journaled and then watched all of Brene Brown’s talks. (If you haven’t seen them, I cannot recommend them enough: they are truly life-altering.) And the one-line that kept sticking out to me was this:
The way blame is defined in research is a way to discharge pain and discomfort.
And, if I were being honest with myself, that’s exactly what I was trying to do: release the pain his tone gave me.
But that’s not fair.
Of course, it’s not fair. He’s seven. He didn’t need or deserve my unloading on him. He’s likely not cognitively developed enough to truly internalize half the things I was telling him and expecting of him. He’s just a kid. Not to diminish his abilities, I know he can understand that he needs to be more respectful. But he got that three minutes into our conversation. We didn’t need the other 14 minutes. I didn’t need to yell or get more upset. I didn’t need to unload on him.
Anyhow, so I bathed in shame and guilt and remorse most of the day. And it sucked.
The minute David came home from school, I sat down with him, looked him in the eye, and apologized. The first thing he said was that it was his fault. I explained that while I don’t like that he speaks to me badly and, yes, he needs to work on that, the way the morning went was my fault. I didn’t need to communicate the way in which I did and that while what he did was wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. He’s magical and extraordinary and I will love and forgive and cherish him no matter what. I apologized and asked him to please forgive me.
And he did, of course. Because he’s kind and sweet and has a generous spirit.
His forgiveness gave me the space to forgive myself but not before I made a note to remember how it felt to live with the remorse all day. I told him that I would work hard to bring my best-self into our interactions all the time. And that I hoped he’d do the same. That I would try harder. I would try better. And then I thanked him for talking to me and for forgiving me.
And I wanted to write all this down so I could remember. I said yesterday that I believe the key to happiness (and life in general) is awareness. Writing it down helps me be more aware. Seals this moment in my brain and memory. And I am hoping this will help me remember it next time (before I start seeing black) and allow me to breathe, step back, and remind myself that this is not the person I want to be and the way in which I want to communicate.
I want to remember this remorse so I don’t have to feel it again.
Not so I can shame myself, but just so I can raise my awareness sooner next time.
Or so I hope.
Oh, I know that tone! It really is very difficult to restrain yourself when that tone comes out. And over the years, it doesn’t get any easier.
Karen – you really touched my heart ♥ Being a parent is not always easy, and we do the best we can. Sometimes our ‘best’ is not always that great and we feel guilty and sad. But life is full of lessons and you saw the lesson in this situation. You took responsibility and apologized and explained it to your little boy.
Blessings to you all ♥
Joy >i<
I’m so happy you worked things out…at least that what it sounds like. I know exactly what you’re talking about. Respect is a very important part of life, my mom always taught us kids to respect her and others. I’m so glad she pounded it in our little heads…as I’m sure your little one will “get it.” They are very forgiving at this age and will still love you no matter how long you take to try to get them to understand. Blessings and hugs to you and your little one.♥
Dear Karen,
I so completely GET where you were. The blame storm of shame. I’ve done what you did,
sought the forgiveness you did, promised to bring my best self. You get the Best Mom prize
for repairing things as soon as possible.
I think the most important thing you did was apologize. Too often adults pretend like they can do no wrong and kids start to think that they didn’t just do something bad but that they’re actually bad people. By apologizing, I think we let our kids know that we KNOW we aren’t perfect, either. That everyone (even MOM!) makes mistakes and that everyone needs to realize when they’ve done so and make it right. You made it right.
Karen,
You are giving your sons such wonderful gifts. You are showing them how to be aware of the ways our behavior impacts others. Your actions acknowledged that sometimes we are sharp and we hurt the people we love. And most important of all you are teaching them how to have a healthy relationships, how to ask for forgiveness and how to receive forgiveness. Recently I realized that when someone asks me for forgiveness my automatic response is “It’s OK”. I want to rescue them (and probably me) from uncomfortabe feelings. But it is not OK. It is so much better to acknowledge the hurt and repair the connection as you did. A beautiful example of truly healthy connection and what a gift that is!
Karen, thanks for being brave and for sharing your pain. I am now a grandmother but your story was mine a long time ago. I had to learn to not verbally respond in stressful situations, to take a breath and to pray and then when I was not upset to deal with the problem with my children. My ranting and raving did nothing to help them learn. Now I have teenage adopted children and I am able to practice what I am sharing with you. It is still difficult but it gets easier when I do it often ( which I have to do, since my adopted children all have emotional and psychological disabilities that make it very hard to parent them). We practice the magic 7 words in our home ” I was wrong, will you forgive me?”. And I have had to say that alot! Another suggestion is to have family rules posted in your home. and if anyone breaks them they have a consequence ( including me). The rules pertain to my older children and their families as well. If you are interested in them, email me and I can share. I will be praying for you.
Oh Karen, thank you for sharing that even you loose your calm and cool with your boys. I think you are raising them so well and they will grow up to be great men. Just reading how you handled it later with David warms my heart and taught him even more about forgivness and hurtful words. IT is a tough job being a parent, everyday it’s a commitment and all the changes that come with it. You are a GREAT MOM!! Hope this won’t happen again or at least not for a looooong time.
Parenting is definitely hard work. I do believe that I’m an incredibly patient person but I also know that I’m not, at heart, an early childhood educator and I swear this makes it all harder. Finding the strength within not to explode at this little person who has made the same mistake 100 times before and probably will another 100 times as they learn *not* to repeat the same behaviors is trying to me on a good day. And I confess I’ve had a few of those moments where I am certain that my head is spinning around on my body and I’ve actually been possessed. But I try to apologize and admit my own shortcomings to my kids and ultimately I take some solace in hearing from others that it’s not just me. Those of us doing the best that we can for our kids….well sometimes it’s not pretty. Thanks for being honest.