Losing My Temper and Finding My Way

As I was laying in bed with my toddler, nursing her to sleep this afternoon, I had a head full of thoughts. I was thinking about how our morning homeschool went (not so well to start), and the hurt look on my son's face as I lost my temper and slammed the book down on the table while shouting.

I lost it earlier in the week as well. I could blame it on hormones, on stress, or I could blame it on him. The eye rolling, the heavy sighs, the constant arguing with me, his constant and incessant need to taunt and pick on his younger sisters.

But really it is about me. We cannot blame our emotions nor our reactions on others. We choose how we respond.

I am not responsible for how someone else responds or even feels. We can only accept responsibility for ourselves.

Which brings me back to my loss of control. And finding joy. And keeping life simple.
First I have to ask myself why I was so angry that I would respond in such a harsh way, causing obvious pain to a child I love (and setting a poor example for all three of my children). I could see the look of hurt on his face. He flinched, as if I had physically struck him. Tears welled. The look quickly disappeared, but I know in my heart the hurt is still there.

I cannot seem to get my son to take part or cooperate or act in a responsible way toward his school work, toward me, and toward his siblings. Day in and day out we argue, fight and I threaten and dole out punishments. "If you don't stop picking on your sisters you will not have any computer time or be permitted to see your friends today!" And then he gets "punished", his behavior improves for a short time, and then we are back where we started again.

I have searched for answers to my current problems with my son. When I search deep enough, I realize it has to do with our connection to one another. He feels I am bossy and pushing him around, and always making him do things he doesn't want to do. But when things are going well with us, we are close, physically and emotionally. We are able to talk about all kinds of things, and we feel connected to one another, safe in our closeness. During these times, he is much more willing to do what I ask of him.

Although  I have every right to ask things of my son, and to have expectations as to his actions, behaviors, and even his attitude, I also have to maintain a secure and sharing relationship with him. I could simply make demands "Do it because I said so!" But I would rather he cooperate with me out of love and not out of fear of punishment or loss of privileges.

So I spent some time cuddling my tall, skinny, awkward eleven-year old. I read to him about Greek mythology - both an interest of his and part of today's lesson. I listened to him talk about his favorite x-box game and why he likes it so much and even went so far as to offer to play it with him. I saw the look of happiness, just as clearly as I had seen the look of hurt.

I listened with genuine interest to him. I praised him sincerely for his ability to monitor his electronic use - his computer time, his x-box time, his cell phone use. When I gave this praise, I saw yet another expression on his face. He knew he had been recognized, he had been truly seen and heard, and appreciated for something. These were fleeting expressions, and had I not been paying attention, had I not been watching, I would have missed them and might never have appreciated the impact I have on my son.

It was only a short amount of time, but I felt as though we had re-connected again. This connection is fragile, I know. But it is so, so important to our relationship.

He is growing, often wiser than he should be for his still young age. At the same time, he is still a boy. A boy who loves his mom and seeks her contact and approval. While I cannot always be the perfect mom I want to be, I can pay attention. I can look for what my children need from me.

I think most importantly, my children need my time, my attention, my unconditional love. Seems simple enough, but life can be so complicated, so distracting, so busy, that we forget how to pay attention to one another. Truly pay attention, not through a text, email or phone call. Not through a conversation as we multi-task.

Attention that provides for eye-to-eye contact. Physical contact. Listening with all our senses as our loved ones speak to us. I had a moment of this today, and it felt wonderful. Simple. Joyful.