I remember back in Elementary school--when I was sent to the office--ya, big surprise--the Principal Mrs. Blair would always say the same thing to me. "Lynne, when you begin to loose your temper, just take a deep breath and count to ten". In some universe holding your breath and counting to ten is going to some how make you not want to kill the person standing in front of you!
OK, so no disrespect to Mrs. Blair, because she's a really lovely woman...but I'm now 35 years old and STILL can't hold my breath and count to ten when I'm angry. My kids drive me crazy. The #1 culprit in my house is the 4 year-old Sam. He could drive the most devout honest living southern baptist to drink!
I've started trying to use a technique where if you hear your voice starting to get louder (ie insert the word yelling here)...you start talking softer until the child realizes they can no longer hear you. Tonight it took over 10 minutes for my little man to catch a clue! He's crazy...and yet, very wily. He seems to have a biological response that when I'm getting ready to kill him he needs to pull out the big guns. "Mommy you're beautiful." "Mommy, I love you." "Mommy you're the best mommy in the world."
And all I want to scream is 'can it kid, I live here and I still know what you just did to your little brother'.
Maybe I'll feel better after writing all of this down, or maybe I'll feel better if I have a nice, big glass of wine and head upstairs to watch the Project Runway finale. Red wine and fashion--now there's a deadly combination.
No comments:
Post a Comment