Earlier this week, in the middle of yelling at Micah, I stopped my sentence. It suddenly hit me that Robert and I wanted our children. We kinda planned them and were thrilled to find out they were coming. Yet, there I was yelling my heart out at my sweet, although testy 3 year old son. Where was the respect? How had I, in such a short amount of time, come to show such harshness to one of my favorite people in the entire world? It made me really, really sad. :(
We have been an
AP family pretty much from the beginning. We parent peacefully and treat our children with respect and dignity. So, I know better than to yell at my kids and I strive to not to it, but failed a lot. For some reason, I'd just kinda of spiraled out of control. How I went from kissing and nuzzling the innocent babe gifted to me, to bullying him, I've yet to figure out.
In that epiphany of a moment, I knew that I would either continue on in the way I had been or I'd get my act together and start living everyday with my children the way I intended to from the start. These little people were being treated like a cat that someone had abandoned on my doorstep in the night. Something to deal with until I found someone to take the problem away. That would stop right there and then.
This entire past week has been SO wonderful! The house is happier. (Though as I write this, Micah is screaming at me that the candy on the fridge is not mine and I need to give it to him NOW.) I have enjoyed and relished my kids and their antics. Taking the time to step back without reacting has allowed us to all reconnect.
I'm not unrealistic. I know that eventually I will lose my temper and get loud again, hopefully that is a long way off. Thank God for second chances.