A monster inside
He quickly stopped crying and looked up at me, eyes full of tears that had not yet fallen on his perfect pink cheeks; he was terrified. This was not the mama he knew to be gentle and kind. Always there for him when he was hurt or sad, no, he didn't know this mama very well, this mama was filled with rage. He continued to search my face for the loving mama with whom he is familiar, and when he couldn't find her, tears began to stream down both our cheeks.
You won't find a chapter in any of your parenting books about this, you won't hear it discussed by mothers at the park on a sunny day while children giggle and play, you probably won't even talk about it to those closest to you, though you likely have experienced it a time or two. It is a dirty secret of parenting, it is anger, it is real, it is raw, and it is scary!
Anger: An emotion related to one's psychological interpretation of having been offended, wronged, or denied and a tendency to react through retaliation
I never knew I had so much anger inside, a temper, until I had a child. I remember hearing about shaken baby syndrome and thinking, "Why would you shake a baby!? A baby! Who would do such a thing!?" And then one night Caches wouldn't stop crying. Hour upon sleepless, screaming hour past. This was nothing new, no, I was accustomed to the hours of screaming and the sleepless nights, but for some reason, that night I reached a limit that I was not yet aware I had and I became so enraged that I had to put my tiny baby down and walk away. Only I didn't want to walk away, I wanted to shake my baby, like really shake him,to hurt him.
Then there was the time in the car, I can still remember that day clearly though it was over a year and a half ago. Cache was in complete meltdown mode, choking on his tears and gasping for air through the screams. I had only been driving for about three minutes and I was only about two minutes from home. He always cried in the car, always. Anyone who has ever ridden in a car with a screaming child knows the feeling. Trapped, anxious, helpless. I spoke calmly first, but then something inside me snapped and in an instant my sadness and anxiety turned to anger. I pulled into a bank parking lot, my fists pounding the steering wheel as I yelled so hard that my throat hurt, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!"
Or the time when after hours of rocking and nursing and singing, sleep was still far from sight. I knew he was tired, I was exhausted, and all it took was him pushing me away, his tiny hand in my face for me to lose it. I firmly put him on the ground, "I'M DONE! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!" I yelled, as I walked out slamming the door behind myself. I stood at that slammed door, fell to my knees and began to sob.
Sure parenting is difficult. There is the whining, the demands, the dumping of an entire bag of rice on the floor, the fingerprints on freshly cleaned cabinets, the throwing of freshly folded laundry onto the floor, the crying, the sleep deprivation, and did I mention the whining? It is all par for the course, we all experience it, but for me, when it all becomes too much I yell. But why? Why do I yell? I so often default to wondering what is wrong with him. Why is he so fussy, why can't he just calm down, what's the big deal, why won't you just sleep!? But in reality, it has nothing to do with him, he isn't the problem, it is what is wrong with ME!
Anger: An emotion related to one's psychological interpretation of having been offended, wronged, or denied and a tendency to react through retaliation.
I am the grown up here. I am supposed to be the safe place to land, the one to defuse stressful situations, the one who has her shit together; I'm the mama for god freakin' sake!! I am the one who is interpenetrating the wrong doing, it is my own past experiences that are triggering my present anger. My child isn't doing anything wrong, though it is far easier to point the finger of blame than to own it for yourself.
I think the trigger for me is not being able to fix a problem that I should or potential could fix, if only he'd let me. We mothers so badly want to save the day, to solve the problems, to soothe the sadness, to find the missing marble, to make it all better! We are the mom, we are supposed to fix everything! Only sometimes we can't, it is not our problem to fix, and that is hard. For me it's really hard.
And so I am working on the snap. I am breathing deeper, I am taking more calm moments and small time outs when I feel the anger creeping up inside. I will not let the anger win, no, I will not be ruled by my tongue which can sometimes be sharp. I will not be controlled by my out of control self. I will stop the cycle of anger that has thoughtlessly been passed on. This is not a battle of me against my child, this is a battle of me against myself. It is my own anger, I own it and I will tame it.
With every passing day my son is becoming more keenly aware of how I handle life's stresses. He is watching, he is listening, he is taking a mental note. Even when I think he doesn't notice, even when I bite my tongue, he feels my anger. He knows that I have a breaking point, he knows the darker side, and he deserves better. He is worth the extra effort to say, I'm sorry. He is worth the extra energy it takes to breath deeply and say no, I will not be angry. He deserves the very best of me, and you know what, so do I.
You won't find a chapter in any of your parenting books about this, you won't hear it discussed by mothers at the park on a sunny day while children giggle and play, you probably won't even talk about it to those closest to you, though you likely have experienced it a time or two. It is a dirty secret of parenting, it is anger, it is real, it is raw, and it is scary!
Anger: An emotion related to one's psychological interpretation of having been offended, wronged, or denied and a tendency to react through retaliation
I never knew I had so much anger inside, a temper, until I had a child. I remember hearing about shaken baby syndrome and thinking, "Why would you shake a baby!? A baby! Who would do such a thing!?" And then one night Caches wouldn't stop crying. Hour upon sleepless, screaming hour past. This was nothing new, no, I was accustomed to the hours of screaming and the sleepless nights, but for some reason, that night I reached a limit that I was not yet aware I had and I became so enraged that I had to put my tiny baby down and walk away. Only I didn't want to walk away, I wanted to shake my baby, like really shake him,to hurt him.
Then there was the time in the car, I can still remember that day clearly though it was over a year and a half ago. Cache was in complete meltdown mode, choking on his tears and gasping for air through the screams. I had only been driving for about three minutes and I was only about two minutes from home. He always cried in the car, always. Anyone who has ever ridden in a car with a screaming child knows the feeling. Trapped, anxious, helpless. I spoke calmly first, but then something inside me snapped and in an instant my sadness and anxiety turned to anger. I pulled into a bank parking lot, my fists pounding the steering wheel as I yelled so hard that my throat hurt, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!"
Or the time when after hours of rocking and nursing and singing, sleep was still far from sight. I knew he was tired, I was exhausted, and all it took was him pushing me away, his tiny hand in my face for me to lose it. I firmly put him on the ground, "I'M DONE! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!" I yelled, as I walked out slamming the door behind myself. I stood at that slammed door, fell to my knees and began to sob.
Sure parenting is difficult. There is the whining, the demands, the dumping of an entire bag of rice on the floor, the fingerprints on freshly cleaned cabinets, the throwing of freshly folded laundry onto the floor, the crying, the sleep deprivation, and did I mention the whining? It is all par for the course, we all experience it, but for me, when it all becomes too much I yell. But why? Why do I yell? I so often default to wondering what is wrong with him. Why is he so fussy, why can't he just calm down, what's the big deal, why won't you just sleep!? But in reality, it has nothing to do with him, he isn't the problem, it is what is wrong with ME!
Anger: An emotion related to one's psychological interpretation of having been offended, wronged, or denied and a tendency to react through retaliation.
I am the grown up here. I am supposed to be the safe place to land, the one to defuse stressful situations, the one who has her shit together; I'm the mama for god freakin' sake!! I am the one who is interpenetrating the wrong doing, it is my own past experiences that are triggering my present anger. My child isn't doing anything wrong, though it is far easier to point the finger of blame than to own it for yourself.
I think the trigger for me is not being able to fix a problem that I should or potential could fix, if only he'd let me. We mothers so badly want to save the day, to solve the problems, to soothe the sadness, to find the missing marble, to make it all better! We are the mom, we are supposed to fix everything! Only sometimes we can't, it is not our problem to fix, and that is hard. For me it's really hard.
And so I am working on the snap. I am breathing deeper, I am taking more calm moments and small time outs when I feel the anger creeping up inside. I will not let the anger win, no, I will not be ruled by my tongue which can sometimes be sharp. I will not be controlled by my out of control self. I will stop the cycle of anger that has thoughtlessly been passed on. This is not a battle of me against my child, this is a battle of me against myself. It is my own anger, I own it and I will tame it.
With every passing day my son is becoming more keenly aware of how I handle life's stresses. He is watching, he is listening, he is taking a mental note. Even when I think he doesn't notice, even when I bite my tongue, he feels my anger. He knows that I have a breaking point, he knows the darker side, and he deserves better. He is worth the extra effort to say, I'm sorry. He is worth the extra energy it takes to breath deeply and say no, I will not be angry. He deserves the very best of me, and you know what, so do I.
Wow! This hits very very very close to home for me. Enough that I am crying right now, feeling all those feelings that come from the angry outburst. All the guilt and sadness and and self-hatred and more anger. My son is two and a half and it hurts to admit that I have been so angry I have wanted to smack him, or shake him to make him stop crying and just go to fucking sleep already!! I ready an excerpt from Ttich Nhat Hahn about anger not to long ago. I have been practicing his suggestion to just notice the anger when it starts to come up; I say to myself in my head "there is anger here" sometime over and over like a mantra and feel no judgment about it. I just notice it and breath and eventualy it goes away without bursting out. I still feel sad that I had the feelings but then I tell myself "there is sadness here" and try to smile and think of something happy.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing. I always recommend your blog to new moms because you are so honest and you have really made me feel like I am not as big a lunatic as I thought I was!