Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I got frustrated...and I yelled. And she got more frustrated and she cried harder, which just made me angrier.
Twenty-four hours after that last post, talking about how God slapped me upside the head with my impatience, I can tell you that I am still a work in progress.
I messed up today.
I don't understand why some days are worse than others. I wonder if it may have
something alot to do with hormones - if you know what I mean. At least that's what I'm blaming it on.
But its not an excuse.
It all started with Anya.
Anya, my wonderful, easy-going, eager-to-please, saint of a daughter.
For some reason she is the one that sets me off the quickest.
Why is that?
We were sitting down to do homework after school (recurring theme, ya think?!) and she shut down on me. Completely.
When Anya gets frustrated with homework, she shuts down, starts to cry and is absolutely non-productive for a good-long time.
Usually, I'll send her to bed to cry it out. What point is there in telling her not to cry? It only makes it worse. So I make her sit in there until she gets control of herself and can come out with a happy face.
Today I didn't do that. I made it worse.
I got frustrated right along with her.
There is something I learned about Anya a long time ago.
WE. ARE. EXACTLY. ALIKE.
We are both overly emotional...and easily set off. Except when she gets frustrated she cries...when I get frustrated, I yell.
Yea. Great, I know.
So I got frustrated...and I yelled. And she got more frustrated and she cried harder, which just made me angrier.
I told her she was sitting at that kitchen table until she figured it out. If it meant she missed supper, so-be-it. If it meant she missed her nightly episode of Hannah Montana, better still. She was sitting at that table until she could figure it out.
It didn't work.
I refused to give her the answer...I tried explaining the homework a million times, but in heat of our frustration, we couldn't communicate any better than Maddie and I could a year ago.
She wasn't listening to me.
And I certainly wasn't being patience with her.
After an hour and a half (YES! AN HOUR AND A HALF!) I finally told her to start writing the sentence with Sally. That's all I gave her...the first word.
Thirty-seconds later she was done.
I don't know which was worse. The fact that she sat there for an hour and a half crying, or that once she had one word she finished it so quickly.
OOOOH I was hopping mad! She could have finished it that quickly 75 minutes ago!
I sent her to her room and sat down on the couch to cool off.
It didn't work.
It was another 30 minutes before I got to the point where I could actually TALK to her without yelling.
Finally, we sat down and had a nice, long chat.
I explained what made me so frustrated. I told her I was wrong. I explained that she needed to control herself in a better way as well.
And then I asked for her to forgive me.
My beautiful, sweet, kind-hearted, gentle-spirited daughter generously did.
I'm thankful for several things.
First, that I'm not a mean yeller. I just yell. I am VERY conscious of what I'm saying...I make a point of never saying bad about my children as individuals. I just wish I could take a lot of the emotion out of it. It still doesn't do her (or anyone else) any good.
I'm so thankful for forgiveness.
That my daughter offers hers.
And that my Heavenly Father does too.
And I'm thankful that tomorrow is another day. I plan on getting plenty of rest tonight, taking some St. John's Wart (to see if it helps) and if absolutely necessary...
leaving tomorrow's homework until Shad gets home! ;>)