Stop Screaming, Start Loving

Over the summer, I was referred to in casual conversation with an old friend as a “babe”. As I have not deserved the “babe” moniker for at least 15 years (Jessica Simpson I am not), I blushed and didn’t care if the man proffering the comment was lying or not. I just accepted it blindly and figured I had stumbled into some good lighting. Later that same day, I was told that an article I wrote made someone laugh, and the speaker of this compliment said she thought I was a gifted writer.

Those two events have kept me feeling good for awhile now. Two compliments, said with sincerity, though clearly undeserved, have made me smile and hold my head up a little bit.

So I was thinking, as I was in round 3 of a screaming battle of wills with one of my boys, that maybe if I said something kind it could shock them into having some self-esteem, and maybe put them in the mood to smile more as well. After all, it is my most important job as a mother to teach them that others are precious and important, and worthy of being treated with respect and kindness. If I don’t model that for them by treating them as such, where will they learn?

I folded this sobbing, frustrated child into my lap and said into his soft ear that I thought he was just fabulous, and how about if we go outside and ride cars and bikes in the driveway. All three kids looked at me like they expected me to start spewing pea soup for a split second, then they jumped up to find shoes and were lined up at the door in a flash. The one I had been battling moments before hugged me, and said, “I love you like a car.” Which I think is a supreme compliment, coming from a boy.

For the rest of the day, and for a few days after, I tried replacing screaming and nagging with redirection, compliments and hugs for minor infractions and irritations. The improvement in attitude was remarkable, and my daughter Anna even said she like the non-yelling mommy better, which makes me wonder how much of a shrew I had been, though I think I have a good idea.

Then I noticed that they were complimenting each other. Anna stopped screaming when the boys knocked down her block castles, and invited them to help her rebuild after laughing at the mess. “Good job, boys,” she said. “That made an interesting pile!” OK, I take what I can get.

Do I still scream too much? Yes. Do I sigh in exasperation when I find stuff like A1 sauce and blue glitter paint decorating the carpet? Sadly, I do. But I have found the beginnings of a solution.

Then it hit me. What if we all started saying nice things to people? Commenting on the small things they do that make a difference? Boosting their morale? Calling a 38-year-old mom of 3 a babe is a good start. How much better could we feel, and make our children feel? Maybe I am the only one with this problem, but when I get going I can really tear the poor little buggers down. Is it really so much harder to take a deep breath and scream “I love you” instead of “You horrible children, just stop it right now or you’ll find yourself at a hospital in Nebraska” and give a hug instead of storming off to slam a door, muttering terrible things under one’s breath?

As the days get shorter and darker, I have resolved to attempt to make my patience longer and my disposition sunnier. There is a long winter looming, and it’s the only way I can see to survive it.