It’s funny the things kids remember.
This thought dawned on me as I put conditioner on my then six-year-old daughter's freshly shampooed hair. She reminded me to leave the conditioner on for five minutes so her hair would be extra curly. I shook my head in amazement knowing this tidbit was something her aunt had told her almost a year earlier.
I set the timer on my watch and placed my hand under my chin as my daughter continued to play in the tub. While thick droplets of conditioner made ripples in the bathwater, she began to talk. In the same breath as a request for a moisturized scalp came a horrendous recollection of me at my worst.
Avery remembered arriving at a holiday event in our community only to have to leave immediately. She remembered I was angry, that I started crying, and that my dear friend Jennifer walked us outside the building to comfort us.
Avery remembered Jennifer saying, “Sometimes moms need a little time to be alone and take a deep breath.”
Avery didn’t remember that her dad had been traveling for work week after week, that I’d just discovered her sister’s third case of head lice in a two-month period, and that the new holiday shoes she and her sister were wearing were producing blisters, which caused incessant whining.
Naturally, Avery did not remember those things; all she knew was that she was scared because her mom was falling apart… and another adult had to rescue her.
This is precisely what happens when living in a perpetual state of overwhelm—whether by one’s own doing, by circumstances beyond one’s control, or a combination of both.
Existing in a constant state of stress has a way of unraveling the fabric of your well-being until you completely come undone. And you can only stand there watching it happen, because you can’t save yourself.
My friend Jennifer helped me collect myself so we could go back to the party and attempt to grasp a small shred of joy in an evening so shattered. I remember walking behind my loving friend, watching her hold my children’s hands, even managing to produce smiles on their tear-streaked faces. I remember thinking to myself, “I’m glad that’s over. No damage done.”
Who was I kidding?
An imprint was left that night, a tender red mark on my daughter’s impressionable soul—a mark I would not see until several years later, when the smell of hair conditioner triggered an agonizing moment in her young life.
What compounded the significance of the memory was how surprised Avery was by her own emotional reaction. I watched as she blinked back tears, saying with embarrassment, “I can’t believe this is making me cry.”
As I watched my child struggle to maintain composure, all I could think was this:
Never again will I wonder if the harsh tone of my voice is absorbed into impressionable ears and spirits…
Never again will I wonder if my irrational rants are retained in young souls…
Never again will I wonder if the “bad” memories are cataloged right along with the “good” in her memory bank…
Because then I knew.
But this story is far from over. This story is not about guilt, shame, or regret over things a person cannot change. This story is about hope.
What happened next was pivotal.
I looked into Avery’s face and said the only words that could be said to a child who remembered the harsh words and actions of an overwhelmed mother.
“I am sorry. I am so very sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Avery threw her whole body into her act of forgiveness by wrapping her arms tightly around me and whispering, “Oh yes, Mama. I forgive you.”
Then I took Avery’s hands and told her something that was absolutely critical. I told her I was learning how to cope better in times of frustration and stress. Not only was I using restorative “Hands Free” time periods to push away the demands and distractions of the world so I could hear my innermost needs, but I was also paying attention to my body’s warning signs.
I told Avery that I could sense when a blow-up was coming.
“I feel this flash of heat in my face, my thoughts speed up, and my hands start to shake.” I explained. “That’s when I know a collision is coming. Like when you and your sister are bickering… like when I lost all the edits I’d done on my book… like when the neighbor was so nasty to me about our cat. Well, when those factors intersect with my own negative feelings, there is a moment of impact.
So just like a driver who is anticipating a damaging collision with another vehicle, I let off the gas… I pull back… I take a three-second pause to avoid causing permanent damage.
In this pause, I can really SEE the person in front of me.
When I look at you during one of these times, I can see my baby who is learning, growing, and counting on me to teach and guide her. Really SEEING you helps me respond with love rather than overreact.”
With gratitude spilling from my eyes, I told my daughter the hopeful discovery I’d made: Even a few seconds of pause can prevent tragic results. Even a few seconds of pause can help me choose love in moments of stress and struggle.
The moment of impact…
What we wouldn’t do to prevent hurtful words spilling from our lips—leaving tender marks on those we love the most?
The moment of impact…
What we wouldn’t do to save ourselves from years of regret and shame?
The moment of impact…
Sometimes it only takes a moment of pause to avoid a collision.
My child is fourteen years old now. And with fourteen comes teenage angst and attitude… excessive talkativeness and forgetfulness… anxiousness and irritability… but it always helps to look at her, really look at her, and remember:
She's only been on this earth for fourteen years.
She is my baby.
And she is counting on me to teach her, accept her, and guide her with love.
I can’t go back and change the past, but I can do something about now—now when my children are depending on me to provide a safe, consistent environment when the world is so scary and unstable.
I am trying to do things differently now.
When the collisions of life are upon me, I look at my children’s faces and remember that what I say and do in that moment might very well be with them forever.
And in that brief moment of pause—just before the moment of impact— love has the power to save me from myself.
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Such sage advice and you are so right. While my mother was and still is a very good one (she’s 90 now and I turned 59 today!) I have never been able to get some harsh words out of my head. When my brother, sister and I were very young … maybe 2, 5, and 8 … we were all acting up in the car and my mother became overwhelmed, pulled the car over to the side of the road and shouted, “I wish I never had any of you!” Of course she didn’t mean it but when you’re 5 years old you think that they DO mean it, and unfortunately you can’t un-ring that bell. It’s stuck with me all these years.
I keep a folder in my file cabinet that’s marked “notes to self,” and I have several snippets of notes in there to remind me to break the pattern for my daughter … that I should never do or say some of the hurtful or inappropriate things that my mother has put on me over the years, things that her own mother probably said to her. We have to break the pattern.
Thank you for you insightful and lovely blog.
Thank you so much, Michelle. Reading your painful recollections only motivates me further to take pause when those overwhelming parenting moments consume me. I also appreciate your suggestion of keeping a file of notes to yourself. What a powerful way to remember to speak words that heal and build, rather than hurt and tear down. I am grateful you took the time to share your powerful wisdom and experience. I will remember your story. Sending peace and love to you today.
Thank you for sharing this. I cried reading it because I saw myself in your storyy. Thank you for encouraging me to stop & breathe first.
Thank you for meeting me in the light of “realness,” Wendi. It is comforting to know I am not alone in these feelings and the desire to do better each day.
I have tears streaming downy face. Tears of sorrow for the many “moments of impact” and also for the hope to do and be better. Thank you for this story, I truly needed it. Thank you.
There is hope, Amber. So grateful you are with me on this journey.
Thank you.
Wow! I’m on my break at my desk with tears in my eyes. How many times have we all said things we shouldn’t have, thinking this is just a bad day. They won’t remember. Oh, but they do. They remember the good times too, but the bad they seem to remember with more detail. My kids are grown now, and when they’re angry with me they tend to bring up the bad times, as if the good times never existed. It’s not their fault. I think that’s how some of us are wired. I remember the bad from my own childhood more than the good. And it’s not fair to my parents any more than it is to my kids. Yes, like Michelle who posted before me, my mother said she wished she had never had us. I am 48 and I will never forget it. But I almost forgot when she was a Brownie leader and painted trash cans with us. I almost forgot the halloweens where she made me look like a princess, but remembered clearly the horrid paper costume (it was as bad as you can imagine).
Thank you so much for your blog and these reminders that it all matters.
Thank you for sharing your story, Toni. I love the thought that each day brings us a second chance … another opportunity to live and love. Something in your message makes me think you are making the most of each new day and each new opportunity to grasp what matters. Thank you for reminding me it’s never too late.
THANK YOU.
Oh my…I am horrified at myself for all the “screwed up moments of impact” that I have had with my children. Thank you so much for being so honest and open.
……tears, each and everytime I read your posts. You write as if WE were in your shoes, you write from your heart and soul….you need to be SHARED even if its’ only online, so more parents can truly read your posts, and reflect on their past actions and In the Right Now as they too; parent their lil’ miracles. I’m so happy I was sent your links. I just wanna HUG you mama. Thank you, now…….I must once again grab a tissue. ❤
Oh wow, Sandi. I will come back to this loving message time and time again. You just don’t know how much these words meant to me today. THANK YOU. THANK YOU!
I bawled reading this. The you when your daughter was 3 was me today. Thank you. I needed this so much today, and for the future.
I am so glad this message came at the right moment in your life, Caroline. Thank you for letting me know.
May you make the most out of the new day and the new opportunity that awaits.
Luckily, I learned this lesson BEFORE having my son, when I worked for a preschool Head Start program in a very bad area of town. The children all had behavior issues, due to neglect and abuse from their parents, and the job was stressful and completely exhausting physically and mentally. A little girl bit my hand and I freaked out. Later, she came over and handed me a picture she drew of me in that moment. That picture opened my eyes and my heart to what a child sees in that moment and I vowed not to get to that point again. Sometimes, it’s not even what we say, but how we look and the force behind it and the scary look on our face seen from their low vantage point.
Something else that stuck with me is when I heard someone say that her mother’s eyes always lit up when she entered the room and what that meant to her. No matter how tired I am or grumpy when I come home from work, I try to make sure my eyes light up and I put excitement in my voice when I see my son.
Beautiful. I also try to tell my kids that no one is perfect and we all need to forgive ourselves and move on, as well as forgive others, whenever the “moment of impact” actually occurs. We all have moments when we say things we wish we didn’t, and we shouldn’t beat ourselves up when that happens – just try to do better next time. And talk it through, explaining that we are all human 🙂 Some day, maybe your daughter will be a mom. Most likely at that time, she will be able to look back on that day and realize all of the external factors that escaped her as a little one. Don’t we all become more forgiving of our mothers’ humanity when we become mothers ourselves? It’s part of the journey 🙂 Thanks for a great post.
Powerful, Lisa! Thank you for the reminder that showing our children we are vulnerable, that we make mistakes (and learn from them), and that there is strength in admitting when we are wrong, are all GIFTS to give our children. Maybe someday my child will remember her not-so-perfect mom and say, “It’s okay. My mom wasn’t perfect, and she doesn’t expect me to be either.” I am grateful for your insight and wisdom today. THANK YOU for being along on this journey!
You always make me cry. You always make me stop and think. Thank-you!
Thank you.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us. I love how God can speak through others and touch our hearts exactly where we need it. I needed to hear this today.
It scares me so much to think that my children will remember all the times I’ve “lost it” with them and yelled. But thank the Lord, his grace is bigger.
You are such an inspiration! Every time I read a new post, I’m hit by how close to home you get. I had to fight back the tears as I remembered the many words said in anger to my 2 girls. I appreciate your honesty and I love reading your posts. They seem to appear just when I need them. Thank you!
I love the “I’m here for you” answer. My girls ask that every night, and I grow exasperated with their pleading that I stay upstairs. I say, “I’m not leaving! I’m right here! Always right here.” But “I’m here for you” is gentle and firm. I like it. Good post!
Thank you so much for this post, it is truly invaluable, as all those before me said, and yes, God does work in mysterious ways. I’ve been thinking about the distance between my 21 year old son and I, and of course, revisiting all the ‘mistakes’ I made while he was growing up, and I really needed to read this today. I too have been a teacher for the last 15 years and just retired, so I did learn a lot of these lessons ‘at school’ but it never hurts to learn them again. I am now a grandmother for the first time, and I take care of my grandson while my daughter finishes school. I am happy for all of us who have had the privilege to read this.
Thank you for sharing your story, Kris. I love that you are open to growing and improving even now as a grandparent. Your family is very blessed. I hope I never stop taking the hard looks inside and searching for ways to improve. Thanks for being here.
I’m glad you posted this today, so I could see it while my son is still only 7 months old, while there’s still time for me to practice modulating my responses to him. I have already had “moments of impact,” and as he grows more autonomous these will likely come with more frequency and intensity. I feel the advice to “pause” for just a few seconds, to take those few breaths to allow the anger to dissipate, will be extremely helpful for me – I tend to impulsively lash out (verbally) when overwhelmed, and I usually regret doing so within seconds. If I can put those “seconds” BEFORE the harmful outburst instead of AFTER….think of how many painful memories I might prevent!
Even at seven months old, my son is affected by my loss of temper, by expressions of anger, and by hurtful words. Having received enough of these things myself throughout my childhood, I am desperate to do better by my son.
Thanks for helping me along in my process of figuring out HOW 🙂
This is very insightful, Nicole. I appreciate your willingness to be so open and honest about your own struggles. I am truly grateful to know that something in my message resonated with you, and that it will have a positive impact on the way you interact with your son. Your commitment to him is very inspiring to me. Thank you for sharing.
If I had not been reading this in bed last night next to my sleeping husband I’m pretty sure I would have been sobbing. Sigh…”Moments of Impact”. I’m sad to say that despite only being a mom of a two year old and a 9 week old I’ve had more than my fair share. While I don’t think I’ve said anything too extreme I struggle to control my temper and my emotions when I just don’t know what to do because I’m so exasperated, frustrated and tired. But everything you said in this post is true. As a matter of fact one seemingly harmless comment that my dad made to me when I was about 10 caused more harm than I ever realized until brought to the surface years later. Fortunately I have more perspective now that I am older and I have been able to forgive him and move forward. I love him to pieces but it is amazing what you remember. I hope to share this with everyone I know as I feel that we could all benefit from the reminder. Thank you for being an inspiration to us all.
Thank you, Kimberly. I am so touched by the stories my readers are sharing here today.Thank you for mentioning your own experience as a child–and also for sharing that you forgave your father in order to move forward. This is a critical piece that I am grateful you brought up. I look at your children’s ages and my heart goes out to you, friend. Those were some of my most difficult days. Please know that you are not alone in those feelings of exhaustion and exasperation. I am grateful you are on this journey with me.
Thank you so much for sharing. I am amazed that all three of kids have grown up to be fairly okay adults and forgiven me for all my crazy episodes during their youth. I think you are hitting on some essential points, and am so glad you are sharing them for others to draw strength from. Go, you!
I have become huge fan of your posts ! Thank you so much… this post definitely made me cry and I think I have a very different perspective now towards what really matters. I have 2 little boys and I am more compassionate with them than I have been before….
This really means a lot to me, Bharati. To know my writings are having a positive impact on a parent and child relationship is my greatest reward. Thank you for telling me.
I want to thank you for this blog. I had tears in my eyes while reading it. I carry a lot of things that I wished I could change. Times when I wasn’t available to my children. When I wish I’d been stronger. But knowing that you can’t change the past had an impact on me. It’s made me more determined to change the future, so the past is never repeated. hugs
That is just beautiful, Lori. Changing the future starts with the choices we make today. I am so glad you are here.
Thank you for sharing your episode of having a meltdown. I’ve been there, but your words gave me hope that I can do something about the future. hugs
Your post made me cry! We had a moment very much like that just last night…we had a stressful day and I was losing it. My 6 yo went off into his room and I heard him sobbing. I went in to ask him what was wrong and he fell into my arms saying “I’m so sorry I’m such a horrible little boy”…I’m pretty sure I hadn’t said those exact words but it didn’t matter because that was what he heard and by my actions I had allowed him to feel like that. I was in tears too. I realised I couldn’t undo what had been said so we talked about it and I asked him to forgive me. It was all I could do. After that I let the kids stay up late and we read books together, cuddled and chatted. It was the wake up call I needed to really understand the power of words even when they seem completely justified in the heat of the moment.
Thank you so much, Tara. Your experience echos my own and validates the power of saying, “I am sorry” and putting action behind the words. I truly appreciate your willingness to share.
Thank you. I feel like I could have written this! My daughter has been honestly telling me that I am unpredictable. They never know if I will explode or calmly deal with the issue whether it is spilled milk, not listening at bed time, or some real danger. I tend to react rather than respond. I will try the holding the words under my tongue for a few minutes to give my brain time to process.
Wow, I really needed to see this. I love my kids so much but there are times when I say things I immediately regret. This is a good wake up call for me. I grew up with a Mom that did the same. I need to break this cycle. Thank you for your openness.
Thank you for this. I have a 2.5-year-old who’s at the height of the terrible twos, and I’ve not handled his outbursts well on numerous occasions. I want to teach him how to manage his anger and frustration in a healthy way, but I don’t model that for him sometimes. That said, I think we all need to forgive ourselves; motherhood is HARD, and none of us are perfect. Be gentle with yourself, and that will likely seep out into the way you treat your children.
Lovely reminder, Kathleen: “I think we all need to forgive ourselves; motherhood is HARD, and none of us are perfect. Be gentle with yourself, and that will likely seep out into the way you treat your children.”
Forgiving myself for past mistakes has been very difficult for me, but I know how critical it is in order to move forward and grasp the joy life has to offer. THANK YOU!
I want to also thank you, along with so many other moms, for writing a post that seems to have ‘touched’ so many of us…I really needed to read this today as I feel I am not being the best mom I should or can be. Frustration, lack of sleep, not enough hands to get everything done…etc etc…seems to result in little patience for the 2 little blessings in my life (ages 2 1/2 and 4). I often reach the ‘losing it point’ and yell angry harsh words that I regret almost immediately when you see the look on their little faces. Thank you for the reminder that even though we would walk through fire for them if needed, those ‘moments of impact’ may stick with them long after. You have NO idea how perfect your timing was and what an impact your message and your honesty has had on me tonight!!!
This really means a lot. To know we all share these same feelings of being overwhelmed brings comfort and hope. I appreciate knowing that my message impacted you. Your words fuel my writing like no other. Thank you.
This post really, really touched my heart. I’ve had melt-downs with my kids so many times, thanks to depressions, but I keep telling myself to have hope, and strength, and that the most important thing, above all else, is love and my kids have so much of that. Thank you for sharing so honestly. I’ve shared this post on my blog this week: http://theawakenedparent.org/2012/08/11/sharing-saturday-5-11-august/ and on Pinterest too. Thank you again x
Perfect timing, as always. I needed these words today. Thank you.