Give Yourself Some Grace
There are a few Facebook groups that I check on regularly.
Okay. Who am I kidding? I check on them daily.
Gentle parenting, mom groups, support groups.
I keep seeing variations on the same topic recently: Parents disappointed with themselves for how they’ve responded to their child during times of stress. The words differ. The events leading up to and after the anger/yelling/frustration vary.
The message conveyed is the same.
How could I do this to my child?
How could I behave this way in front of my kids?
I swore I’d never scream how my parents screamed at me.
Will she be afraid of me now?
That last question hurts. I previously wondered it myself.
When lockdown started
In Spring of 2020, I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to assist three young boys with schoolwork, manage their online schedules, and occupy them 24/7. Two boys were in preschool, and one was in first grade. The two younger children received therapy services through Early Intervention and the school district. Physical therapy didn’t translate quite the same through a screen, but we tried anyway. Along with the rest of their therapies.
There were a few times I lost my temper. On one occasion, a few months into lockdown, I decided to drive the boys to see nighttime construction on a two-lane highway nearby. It was close to bedtime, they were already in pajamas, and it was dark enough that the lights from the road construction vehicles would be bright. We had just left home when the two youngest started arguing, then screaming, because they both wanted my attention without the other interrupting. As their screams intensified, the van felt like it was crushing in around me. The noise reverberated inside my skull. I wanted to scream back at them, “shut your stupid little mouths! I’m tired of listening to you all day, every single day! Shut! Up!”
Instead, I pulled onto the side of the road and started to sob.
They questioned if we were still going.
I felt like I had to get out. Get away from them.
I merged back onto the road, then off again, turning down a side street where I could safely park for a few minutes.
In a voice louder than I wanted to use, I told them I was tired. And couldn’t think. That their screaming and yelling and whining was too much for my brain. And we would have to go back home, because I couldn’t drive when I was so upset.
I started to cry again.
What kind of a mother was I, that I couldn’t even handle some car-yelling? That I couldn’t keep my promise to take them to watch nighttime construction when there was barely anything to do right now? What was wrong with me? Why did it seem like I was losing my shit constantly?
I started driving back home. My middle son asked if we could still go. Then, my oldest said he was sorry. Next, my youngest promised to be good. I took a few deep breaths, opened the window, and turned the van around. Again. We went to watch the nighttime construction.
Later that week, I spoke with my new therapist on screen. I told her what happened, my worries I’d traumatized the kids, and wondered if they were afraid of me. The way I’d been afraid of my parents.
“Your kids immediately start talking to you when they realize you aren’t continuing on the trip they expected. Saying they’re sorry for their behavior and asking if they can still go. When you had those experiences with your parents, what would you do?”
As a child
I had remained quiet. I was too afraid to say anything. That’s not what my kids did. Even if they HAD been afraid and hadn’t said anything, it didn’t mean I had caused irreparable damage.
I talked with my kids about that moment. And more moments like it. When I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t handle what was going on around me and acted in a way that I regret. It was important to let them know that, as the grownup, it’s my job to model appropriate behavior for them.
At another time, we talked about listening, taking turns, and using quiet voices in the car.
One of the greatest opportunities we get as parents is the ability to apologize when we mess up. And we all mess up. Sometimes a little. Sometimes spectacularly. Kids need to know what messing up looks like when it’s immediately followed by taking responsibility, apologizing, and doing better.
The bottom line is that parents are tired. And overwhelmed. And need a break. Our kids probably do, too.
For right now, please give yourself some grace. You aren’t alone.
This post was written by Jessica Flood, MSW, and published by Convenient Counseling Services.
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