Yesterday I was all offended when Sam asked me to please not scream at the baby. Because, dude, I'm not a screamer. Sure I occasionally raise my voice or shout from the other room, and it's possible that I even yell at times. But I don't SCREAM.
Except when I do.
Like this morning, when I screamed at Sam. I won't go into detail. Let's just said things were said (like, I said reasonable things and he said, "No."), lines were crossed (like the line where if he said "No" one more time I was going to explode), and we both felt bad.
Because I do. Screaming isn't helpful. What I screamed was "STOP SAYING NO" and then, guess what? He said "no." So while there was a brief look of fear in his eyes, he did not, in fact, alter his behavior in the slightest. I just get to live with knowing that I scared my kid. Great. I mean, I'm sure that's how super-mom does it.
Screaming is indulgent. I'm frustrated, so I want to scream. But it's not helpful. It's my same issue with hitting. I don't hit my kids because I don't want to hurt them. Unless I am angry. And I don't think I should hit my kids because I'm angry with them. That just can't be a good lesson. And the screaming isn't a good lesson/example either.
They are so frustrating sometimes. And I am really, really, not perfect.
Still, I'm trying. Trying to yell less. Raise my frustration tolerance. Have other, better, techniques.
I'm wondering, how do we feel about threatening that monsters will eat them if they don't knock it off? Because I feel good about that.
On a completely unrelated subject, have you thought recently about how much harder it would be to brush your teeth if you had to stand a foot away from the sink? Well, think about it. And then cut me some slack on the screaming thing.