Shaking Up the Peace
This Sunday morning was hard.
Sunday’s, in general, are difficult. Husband and I are tired, while the kids scream, bang on the door, and demand anything and everything at approx 5 am. One of us wakes up and helps with the teeth brushing, bathroom going, breakfast serving, the whole nine yards. Then about an hour later, Mommy and Tatty (Yiddish for Daddy) do the big switcheroo and the other gets to spend a little more time in lala-land. Anyone with a similar routine?
Most mornings are fine. The kids are usually happy. But sometimes they — just like all of us — wake up on the wrong side of the bed. This gets me in a mood that I have a very hard time escaping from for the entire rest of the day. Screaming + lack of routine + not listening + wrestling with each other + constant demanding, turn my mood into a rotten apple that’s been sitting on the counter for weeks.
The constant following me around the house and wanting to be entertained
The hitting, the yelling, non-stop asking for food
I am literally all in but one's shoestrings— aka ready to smash my head to the pillow— and it’s only 8 am. The more exhausted my brain becomes this early in the morning, the more prone I am to what-the-freaking-ever-ness, which means I‘ll do whatever takes the least amount of energy and time because I’m Done. With a capital D.
Although this is something I tend to kvetch (Yiddish for complain) about often (I’ve always been a grump in the AM), my husband made a very interesting point. And that’s what I am really here to share.
He said: “You know, the kids don’t scream, hit, or demand stuff from me. It’s literally only when you walk into the room.” “👿👿👿👿💩”, was my first reaction.
What the heck am I doing wrong? I put my entire being into everything I do for these children every night and day (starting earlier than the birds begin chirping).
Am I allowing them to walk all over me? Do I give in at every demand just to get them to be quiet? Do I clean up their messes just so the house can be cleaner than it would if they cleaned up their messes? Does ‘no’ really mean no? Could their behavior be a result of wishy-washy parenting? These are questions I’m currently asking myself.
I have a clear-cut, deep-rooted need for calm in my life and surroundings. When the situation is not in a tranquil state, I will almost always find a way to get it back to equilibrium. I will almost always lower the volume from 100 to 10 in a room of chaos. This trait has helped me deal with family feuds, school + work stress, hectic relationships, hysterical children, and personal inner-turmoil. I’ve always seen it to be one of my best qualities. A backbone that supports me in tough times. But I’m starting to second guess that, and I’ll tell you why.
I am beginning to see that my deep-rooted love for calm may be laced with deep-rooted malice for chaos. I know very few people actually enjoy conflict, but I despise it. From the bottom of my heart. And it’s kind of a problem.
Instead of dealing with an issue properly, I often get tangled up with just needing it to be calm. I lose sight of working through the issue, and I try to shut it up. Like I often do to my kids when they are screaming their heads off for no apparent reason. (There’s always a reason, though 🤫.)
Although it may seem obvious, shutting them up is definitely not a good option (duh)! It’s a lose-lose scenario for all. I become a fume of resentment, and they don’t learn anything productive or positive from it.
They learn that crying and whining will get them what they want.
They learn that there’s no need to clean up after themselves.
They learn that they can walk away from their issues without working through them.
As I work through this idea, I’m recognizing that my peace-making personality needs a good shake-up. It’s not always about keeping the peace. Sometimes there needs to be a heavy dose of chaos in order to get to the real, authentic peace.
Part of me feels so wrong downplaying my calm because it’s one of my best strengths! But let's shift the focus for a minute. There is so much more to me than calm. So much more my 28-year old self hasn’t truly tapped into.
So let’s see what happens the next time my son cries and begs and screams for the pizza I’ve said no to over and over. I’ll validate and empathize with him, but I am not going to give it to him. I will take a deep breath and lovingly remind myself that I am an amazing Mother, trying my best to teach my child an important lesson.
This will not be easy, and I’m prepared for that. It will most likely take a few (fine, a hundred’s a little more than a few) tries. But I know he — and my other two little blessings — will thank me later.
