My return to writing was brought about by the feeling that I was hitting an ultimate low in my parenting. I was resentful and angry most of the day. I found it hard to truly enjoy my son’s presence. I felt like I was running through my day, every day. I was yelling at my son. I was constantly overwhelmed. I was exhausted. I thought I was doing everything wrong.
But then overnight, things suddenly… shifted. And I instantaneously felt better. I woke up feeling happy. I had an incredible day where I simply enjoyed the chaotic and beautiful person my son is.
And in my last post it was hard for me to describe exactly why things changed for me. However the next day I realized something that helps describe my altered state of mind. I began to explain in my first ever video you can watch on my facebook page here.
My aha was pretty simple: as my son’s primary caregiver I will always get his worst behavior.
This is something that I have always known, intellectually. I read about this in my parenting groups. I heard about it from fellow moms out there. But somehow I forgot it these past few weeks. I kept taking my son’s behavior so personal. I kept thinking because he was acting so horribly with me and at home, that meant he is a horrible kid and I am a horrible mother.
But him giving and showing me his worst has absolutely no bearing on who he is or my parenting. His less than ideal behavior does not mean I’ve failed. It does not mean the style of parenting I follow (RIE) doesn’t work. It does not mean that I need to carry his feelings on my shoulders all day.
And that revelation was a huge aha moment for me.
Our kids give us their worst because we are their safe space to do so. They use us as their release. When they are at school or with other adults, they have to follow all kinds of rules. Social rules. Academic rules. Cultural rules. Every place and every situation puts stress on them. They have very little control in most aspects of their life.
So they come home and unload on us.
The way they do so can be in the form of a meltdown, anger, or defiance. They can yell at us or just say no to everything we try to do. They may even seek out the opportunity to release by intentionally pushing our buttons or testing our limits.
Sometimes when we are home, I can feel Franky pushing me, like he is waiting for me to say no and hold my ground on something just so he can push back, meltdown, and get his release for the day. He wants to cry. He needs it. And I am the person that lets him do it.
Until I wasn’t…
The problem is that even knowing this has never made it easy during those moments. When you are with your child every day and everything just seems to be a struggle, getting out the door or eating a meal, cooperating with a sibling or brushing teeth, all these moments began to add up and weigh you down. It becomes incredibly difficult NOT to take it all personal. And that is exactly what I began doing.
I became a non safe space for him because I would be angry with him. I would yell at him. I would get frustrated with him. And so when he was showing me that he needed help, I would shut him down.
My kind, creative, wonderful little boy is going through so many changes every single day. His world is like on extreme hyperdrive. He has little to no impulse control (which becomes zero if he is tired or hungry or lonely). He has very little control over certain aspects of his day like schedule or going to school or bedtime. His body keeps changing. His life keeps changing. His little brother keeps changing. And his emotions keep changing. It is scary.
So when he would get angry or defiant, or have physical aggression toward his brother or me, he was really saying ‘please help I feel out of control.’ And no one who feels out of control wants to be met with more anger and frustration.
So this was the big shift for me. I began to see him for who he was. I saw that he was struggling and needed my help. This made it easier to remain calm when I needed him to do something, because it wasn’t getting to me. If he didn’t wash his hands after the potty and I asked him to do it once. I would pick him up and do it. I didn’t automatically get mad or go into a huge lecture explaining why we need to do so. He knows. I’ve already told him.
So I began accepting that I’m his safe space to simply release his emotions. I do not need to accept those emotions as my own. I do not need to fix them. I do not need to change them. I can carry on with what I need to do and his feelings simply are just that, his.
I am happy he feels safe to share them in my presence.
I want him to feel safe with me.
And ultimately, if that’s the price I pay for having an emotionally intelligent and resilient human being in the world, then so be it.
