Sharing the L.O.V.E.

From The Orange Rhino Herself:
Listen
Observe
Verify
Empathize

I received a very interesting text message from a friend a few days ago.  She asked me for help for her to stop yelling.  She has 4 children between the same ages as M and L and she told me she yells all the time and it's really beginning to stress her out.  She wanted to know how I stopped yelling.  First of all… I was beyond flattered.  The fact that someone is coming to me for help?  Wow.  Now I see how Orange Rhino felt when she started her blog and people started coming to her for help!  Secondly, I knew I wanted to help her because when I started this journey a year ago, I had no one except a blogger I'd never met before.  Sure, I had my support system of The Doctor and my best friend, but they hadn't been to the land of orange yet.  They didn't truly know how hard or difficult it was to NOT yell.  I always promised myself that if ever given the opportunity, I'd take it and take it I did.

The first thing I did for my friend was put together a Yell No More kit.  In a cute orange gift bag stuffed with pretty pink paper I put in my favorite shade of orange nail polish (Essie's Disco Fever) and a bag of my special Yell No More pills (orange chocolate drops- Party City's knock off M&M's).  I also added Orange Rhino's 12 Steps to Stop Yelling and her 100 Alternatives to Yelling.  I found both of those extremely helpful during my first few weeks.  I told her she is to call or text me whenever she needs support.  If she feels a yell coming on, I told her to run to her phone and send me a text.  As silly as it sounds, after complaining to a friend about your child's yell inducing behavior, you realize it's not truly yell worthy after all.

She thanked me up and down and told me she is excited, but scared, about doing this.  I completely understand.  Making the decision to not yell is easy, but actually carrying it out is so difficult.  It's normal to yell when we get angry just as an animal growls when provoked.  In our society, though, it's seen as socially unacceptable to yell at strangers.  When a guy cuts you off on the road, you might yell in your car, but you'd never lower the window and start shouting at him.  Why is it not OK to yell at strangers, but it is OK to yell at our kids?  This was one of things I mulled over before starting on my journey and it's one of the thoughts that ran in my head like a mantra whenever I felt like yelling at my precious Curly Girlies.

I truly hope my friend finds the journey to the land of orange as satisfying and fulfilling as I do.  As hard as it is not to yell, the wonderful feelings of being silly make it all worthwhile.

Happy Anniversary. . . Sort of.

Today marks the one year anniversary of the first time I started the No Yelling Challenge.  The thing is, it's not been a full year since I stopped yelling.  I fell off the wagon big time the day before Thanksgiving (marking my very first blog post).  I feel like I still need to celebrate today, though, because it was the day that I made the choice to stop yelling.  I am always telling The Curly Girlies that they are in charge of the choices they make.  We talk a lot about taking personal responsibility for our actions.  Back when I was a yeller, my first thought after yelling and causing tears was always, "Well, they made me do it."  One of the reasons why I took the humungous step into not yelling was it occurred to me when an abuser hits their victim, they always say, "You made me do it" (at least according to movies and novels.  Thankfully, I've never experienced it myself).  How was I any different from an abuser?  A light bulb went off above my head and I realized. . . I wasn't.  Just as I wouldn't want my children growing up with memories of me hitting them, nor did I want them growing up with memories of me bruising their inner person.  That's all a yell does, really.  No one likes to be yelled at because it hurts feelings and just makes the victim feel yucky.  I am their Mommy.  I am not supposed to make them feel hurt and yucky.  In fact, just the opposite, I am supposed to make them feel wonderful and happy and sparkly and rainbows.  You get the picture.

Even though I only made it 7 months in my first try, I learned so much from those 7 months.  These past 5 months have been SO much easier than the first 7 were.  While I am disappointed that I'm not able to say today, "It has been 1 full year since I yelled at my Curly Girlies", I can't dwell on that.  I am focusing on the point that it has been one full year since I made the decision to stop yelling and 5 months since I made the decision to try again.  I think if anything, it's wonderful that my girlies can see that I'm not perfect (though I like to say that I am) and that while I, too, make mistakes, I also learn from my mistakes.  Everyone makes mistakes in life, what separates the great from the not so great are those who learn from them.  I have learned.  I am still learning.  I am sure that when I think I've learned it all, another lesson to be taught will come along.

It's Easier to Laugh. . .

My 2 biggest triggers to feeling like yelling are being very tired and being in a huge mess.  That's what my life is like today, though.  My normal bedtime is 9ish, but this week, I've been up close to midnight nearly every night.  Plus, I wake up at 3, feeling tired, but not being able to go back to sleep and I'm usually up until 4:30 or 5 before I finally doze off again.  My point being, I am tired.  I'm beyond tired.  I'm at the point where if I were a toddler or a preschooler, I'd throw myself down on the floor kicking and screaming about whatever it was that I wanted that I wasn't getting.  Instead, because I'm a mature adult, I tend to lash out.  The Doctor cooked tonight and as always it was delicious.  The mess that was the kitchen, though, was not.  It's not his fault. . . the kitchen was a mess before he cooked too.  I was out all day and when I got back, I finally gave in to B's pleas to watch "Once Upon a Time" and got into bed with her for some fairytale time.

When I emerged for dinner, all I saw was the mess.  I didn't see that the kids were eating, I didn't see that The Doctor had portioned me out some, but I did see the messy messiness of mess.  I didn't yell, though.  I ate and then I started cleaning.  M came over to me holding her bowl, looked at me and said, "You should say 'Thank you', you know.  I am taking my bowl, after all."  I looked at her and in a voice dripping with sarcasm, I said, "Oh!  You're right!  Thank you SO much M!  Thank you SO much for taking your bowl!"  Afterwards I though, "So, I didn't yell, but how is being so sarcastic any better?"  It's not.

Later, I decided, it's easier to find something to laugh about than to be all upset.  They say it takes more muscles to frown than smile and I truly believe it takes more energy to be mad than happy.  I am so lucky.  I have 3 beautiful curly girlies, a sexy man who knows how to take care of me (and cook!  That's SO important!) and a great life.  A messy kitchen is going to make me feel rotten?  I'm bigger than that.

The tricky part is going to be remembering this.  I got a lot of things from my Dad.  I have his looks, his lack of a singing voice and his ability to make friends every where I go.  Really great stuff.  Unfortunately, I also got his temper. Sometimes I feel like that sour part of me cancels out the really great stuff.  I need to learn that a messy kitchen is temporary and just as I don't want my children to have lasting memories of me yelling, I also don't want them to have lasting memories of my voice dripping with sarcasm.  Something new to work on. . . Yay.

Life Gets in the Way

And so it goes with any kind of daily writing I say I'm going to do. . . Life gets in the way and I inevitably stop after a few solid weeks (OK, days).  I say I'm going to blog but then reality sinks in.  By the time all 3 curly girlies are in bed, I'm wiped.  I usually end up falling asleep on the couch by 9 and when The Doctor wakes me up a couple of hours later, it's all I can do to brush my teeth, wash my face and fall into bed.

I am proud to say that I am just about 5 months into my renewed Orange Rhino journey and am still going strong.  Whenever M sees that I am really upset and she thinks I am going to yell, she calls out, "Orange Rhino!".  The Orange Rhino (the woman whom I consider to be my guru) has a saying that I made the home screen on my phone and that has become my daily mantra.  She says "Love Trumps Anger".  3 little words that normally are not used together and yet put together, these 3 little words get me through my most trying moments (and let me tell you, for as funny as L is, she has a lot of trying moments).  It doesn't matter how upset a situation is making me, when I remember that love trumps anger every time, I immediately defuse and am able to handle the said situation so much better.

Monday was a tough day.  It was the day of the first Passover Seder, The Doctor donned his chef coat and was cooking dinner for 19 people and we were expecting 14 of those people at 6 pm.  L didn't have school so I was going to go to my kickboxing class.  I never get to go Mondays, so this was a rare treat for me.  Just as I pulled into the parking lot of the Dojo, my phone rang.  After I answered, all I heard was bits and pieces. ". . . the stove is not working!" ". . . meatballs are cooking, tzimmes is cooking. . . 20 pound turkey I still have to get up!"  The Doctor is always levelheaded.  He doesn't get excited easily.  Most of the time, it's annoying, because I get excited over the least little thing.  I'll show him something I find super exciting and his reply is always, "That's nice".  I knew there was a problem when he was quite excited about this.

We were both a little upset, sadly for different reasons.  I fully admit, I had no idea what my role in all this was and couldn't understand why I had to give up my kickboxing class to come home and stare at an oven that wasn't working.  The Doctor was frustrated that I didn't see the graveness of the situation and we both ended up hanging up, neither one of us feeling much better.  Not five minutes later and my phone rang again.  This time, it was The Doctor that I'm used too.  He was calm and collected and told me to go to Bed Bath and Beyond.  We were going to cook our Seder dinner in crock pots and this wonderful pseudo Master Chef figured out how to roast the turkey on the grill.  All of my Bed Bath and Beyond coupons that I insist on collecting came in handy and we pulled dinner off without a hitch. What I am most proud of is the fact that we were able to get through the day joking with each other and  supporting each other.  We could have yelled, screamed, fought, called each other names, etc, etc, but that's not really our style.  As stressful as the day was I was still able to keep things in check and even when B and M came home with piles of homework and a ton of curiosity, I was able to keep cool and calm.

Not yelling is still an every day struggle.  Is it ever going to get easier?  Will I ever have moments where I'm faced with an upsetting situation and wanting to yell isn't my first reaction?  I certainly hope so but until then, I'll just keep remembering that Love Trumps Anger every single time.