“In some families, please is described as the magic word. In our house, however, it was sorry.” ~Margaret Laurence
We were on our way out the door, which has always been a little stressful since having children. There’s just something about making ourselves and our kids look presentable—all at the same time—that causes tensions to run high.
On this particular evening, I’d actually put on something other than my typical Writer’s Uniform—meaning I was not wearing anything made out of Dri-fit fabric and my hair was not in a ponytail. We were finally experiencing fall-like temperatures in the South, so it was cool enough for jeans, a sweater, and boots.
I was actually feeling pretty good at this departure. My kids were in Dri-fit material from head to toe, but their hair was combed so we were good to go.
My older daughter decided to use the restroom one last time before we headed out to meet friends. That’s when I heard: “Mom, the toilet is clogged!”
I quickly ran to assess the situation desperately hoping she was mistaken since The Official Toilet Plunger of the family (my husband) wasn’t home.
Much to my dismay, my daughter’s assessment was accurate. Someone had used the bathroom and apparently it required an entire roll of toilet paper to do the job. The muddy water was scarily close to the top of the bowl.
Although it was tempting to get upset, I swallowed an “are you serious?” and stifled an exasperated sigh. I didn’t even ask, “Which one of you did this?” although I had my suspicions based on the fact that Little Sister was now cautiously peering from around corner.
With clenched teeth I said, “I’ll get the plunger.”
I searched every bathroom and even the garage and yet the plunger was nowhere to be found. By now, I was getting sweaty. The stylish boots were not made for running around the house and neither was the sweater. I was suddenly irritated that I had abandoned my comfy Dri-fit.
“I can’t find the plunger!” I hollered as I came down the stairs. “Everyone look for it!” I demanded.
The girls slowly meandered around house as if the plunger would be sitting in plain site on the kitchen counter beside the coffee pot or propped up in the recliner.
“I will go upstairs and look once more,” I grumped.
Finally I discovered the oddly shaped, yet highly effective tool. It was hidden behind the stool in the girls’ bathroom. “I found it!” I announced, as if anyone cared.
I carefully made my way down the stairs because boots and stairs have known to be a dangerous combination for me. That’s when I heard it—the distinctive sound of a flushing toilet and the unmistakable sound of rushing water hitting a tile floor.
“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” I cried out practically tumbling down stairs in hopes I could somehow stop the catastrophe.
I rushed into the bathroom to see my younger child standing in the middle of a nasty pool of liquid that was growing larger by the minute. She was literally paralyzed.
I felt steam coming off my forehead that was now officially in need of sweatband.
“Why did you flush it???” I yelled, feeling my eyes bulging much too far out of their sockets. I must have looked quite frightening—my child burst into tears. “Why, why, why would you flush it?” I repeated angrily knowing this was an incredibly stupid question. My child thought she was helping. If she knew this action would result in an exploding toilet, she never would have flushed it!
“I am sorry! I didn’t know!” she explained what I already knew between dramatic sobs.
My lovely boots were now in toilet water. I felt sweat dripping down my back onto my best pair of jeans. Things could get very, very bad, I thought to myself. I could keep yelling and even throw out a few profane words …
Or
… I could remember to breathe and spare us both some pain.
Instead of yelling one more word, I miraculously released a huge, mammoth-size exhale. Apparently I’d had been holding my breath in anger and I needed this release quite badly.
My child did not know how to interpret the exhale. She looked at me nervously—is Mom gearing up for a major meltdown? Just then Big Sister ran in armed with two spray bottles of disinfectant and a stack of old cleaning towels. She even had her shoes off prepared to go battle.
This small but incredibly kind, sisterly gesture helped me take another deep breath. My older daughter—who is quick to note when a mess does not belong to her—said nothing of the sort. She was attempting to spare her younger sister from further anguish. Perhaps she remembered more clearly than her sister the wrath of their perfectionistic mother who just a few years ago completely lost it when things went awry.
But things are different now. Thank goodness, things are different now.
I calmly took off my boots, set them in the sink, and joined my older daughter in sopping up the putrid mess. Little Sister handed paper towels to Big Sister when they were needed, but she did not mutter a single word.
Fifteen minutes and one overly disinfected floor later, I discovered my child sitting outside the door with her knees tucked into her chest. Her little pink glasses had slipped to the tip of her nose, her tearful eyes shining. With her head slumped down, my usual cheerful child appeared heart-broken.
Her broken-heartedness hurt my own heart.
“I am sorry I yelled,” I said quietly, the words feeling awkward coming out of my mouth. Even now, admitting any wrongdoing feels clumsy, like I am speaking a foreign language. “I am sorry I blew up,” I continued a little louder. “Next time you see a clogged toilet, please don’t flush it,” I added gently.
“I promise. I won’t, Mama,” she vowed looking up at me with hopeful eyes. I could tell she wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I slowly sat down next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Embarrassed by her tears, she buried her face in my sweater that I hoped didn’t smell too badly after the extensive cleaning job.
As I sat there just holding my child, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to cry. The timing of this experience was truly providential. Just six hours earlier, I’d been interviewed by a popular women's magazine about overcoming yelling. What are the chances, right? And while I was describing a painful yelling memory from my highly distracted years to the reporter, I unexpectedly got choked up. As I held my child, I replayed the conversation in my mind:
“Why are you crying?” the reporter asked.
“My daughter remembers that particular incident. She recounted the whole event to me years after it happened. She remembered how angry I was and how scared she was. It hurts to think about it today,” I explained, my voice catching.
“But you’ve worked on it, and you have really changed,” she reminded me.
“Yes,” I said, “I handle things much better now. I’ve learned to accept that things can’t be perfect, and my expectations are more realistic. I stopped overcommitting myself and quit rushing myself and my family through life. I am not under so much pressure now,” I said finding my voice again.
“You know what?” the reporter began, preparing to give me an unexpected gift. “I think showing emotion is okay. It is healthy. I lived in a family that didn’t. My parents kept feelings bottled up so everything would appear perfect. I never learned how to express disappointment, anger, or fear. I never learned to say I am sorry. I never learned how to ask for help or just let my feelings out.” After a slight pause she said, “Give yourself a break. Let it go.”
Let it go.
I am a big fan of those healing, hopeful words.
And that is what I decided to do—because the old me would have never gotten past the soiled floors and the stained boots. The old me would have yelled, “Forget it! We’re not going to see our friends now!” The old me would have sulked for hours and probably ruined a perfectly good evening. The old me would have handed out a mighty dose of blame and shame, but never an apology.
But things are different now. Thank goodness, things are different now.
The Me I Am Now stood up from the spot next to my child and said, “Well, we better go. Our friends are waiting on us and rarely do I ever get this dressed up!”
My daughter, who’s always been quick to forgive, gave me a relieved smile and took my outstretched hand.
As we walked out the door, I had a thought: Maybe my daughter will remember this experience one day. Perhaps her child will overflow the toilet and she will get a little mad at first. But then she will remember that it is just water (mostly), and that it can be cleaned up. And perhaps she’ll remember that we all make mistakes because even her mom did. But it’s what we do with those mistakes that makes or breaks the chance to salvage a broken heart.
**********************************************
My friends of The Hands Free Revolution, thank you for allowing me to be imperfectly me and keep things real. Thank you for sharing your struggles and triumphs to let go and live through email messages and blog comments. Through this community, hope is being found—not just for me—but for those who come here to read, cry, smile, and realize today can be different than yesterday. If you are new to the site and you want to know how I transformed my highly distracted life (with many stumbles along the way), my New York Times bestselling book, HANDS FREE MAMA, tells the whole story from start to finish. My second book, HANDS FREE LIFE, details 9 doable daily habits that bring more presence, peace, and acceptance into your heart and home.
Good News: Many of you asked me to tell you when the ONLY LOVE TODAY and I CHOOSE LOVE bracelets would be back in stock and now they are! Having a wearable reminder to choose love has been a long-time dream of mine, and I am grateful to my family for helping me make it happen. My talented sister-in-law manages the Hands Free store that now carries the leather bracelets, the non-leather reminder bands, the hand-lettered Hands Free Pledge print, and a vintage t-shirt. I so appreciate your interest & support! Thanks for being part of The Hands Free Revolution!
Rachel,
Thanks for sharing and help us realize that we are just humans, the most important thing in life is learn from our mistakes and as you stated, the way we looked at any experience can change the end result. I have learned to say Im sorry to my little one, to cry with her when I made her feel bad, and I want to be the mom my daugther wants to talk with, I want her to feel she can count on me even when she has made a mistake. Yesterday my daugther was so hiper, I dont remember her been like that before, but after a long day at work I needed some quiet at home so instead of fighting or yelling at her for all the craziness going on, I decided to tell her as calm as possible when she was misbehaving and the other things that were her way to have some fun, like making a mess with her toys all over the house I just let it be. By bedtime her room was a mess but I was in a good mood and so was she!
Thanks for your reminder that making mistakes is part of the process and learning how to overcome them is how we become a better person.
Thank you, Venestina, for standing beside me in my imperfection and letting me know I am not alone. Compassion is contagious. You have offered it to me and I, in turn, will offer it to someone else today. I am grateful for your support & love.
Rachel – your honesty is life changing. I so appreciate you and what you are sharing on this blog. I have two little boys, 5 and 9, and your posts are helping me to be a better mom. I’m a work in progress…always with too much on my plate, generally feeling overwhelmed and inadequate to the task whatever it may be at the moment. They are boys–loud, messy… did I mention LOUD? But your posts help me know that I am not alone in my struggle to be patient, let go of the small stuff, and be in the moment with them. You help me pause and think about how my reaction is going to affect them short and long term. I’m learning to laugh and not be so serious–because they are really funny! Anyway…I just want to say thanks. I appreciate you more than you know. ~Norma
Thank you, Norma! I so appreciate your message today. It came EXACTLY when I most needed it.
Your posts are SO real, and so many of us can relate to every word you say. That scenario could have been me on several occasions and I probably handled them more like the old you – sulking, holding on to the frustration, canceling plans and being angry, and letting it ruin precious time with my kids/family. Trying to get to a place of a new me also, but in that moment, it is really hard sometimes. But I think the takeaway from this is to just pause (which I so rarely do) and exhale. I really appeciate your posts. Each one resonates more than the last.
Thank you, Nicole, for pulling out that nugget of wisdom from my story. Pause. Yes Pause. So much pain can be saved in the mindful pause. Thank you for taking time to share your heart. I am thankful for this community and for people like you who walk beside me on this journey.
My little ones are big ones now. I remember countless stories like yours. The next day they are memories, and hopefully not painful ones.
One of mine has moved back home due to “coping issues”, and his messes don’t get sopped up as easily as your bathroom mess did. Yet, your photo of the hands being held and the caption with it melted my heart today: “If you find it hard to hold on, do it anyway. You may look down and see someone holding on simply because you are.” Thank you for this.
If I give up on him, he’ll give up on him, and that mess will be so much greater. Thank you for your encouragement.
I am grateful you shared your story and your perspective, Donna. I feel thankful knowing you are out there in the world, loving your son through his difficult time. Sending peace & love your way. Blessings to you.
Thank you for this post. It brought me to tears. I, also, used to yell all the time and made a concious effort not to. This post was just what I need as lately, my “no yelling pledge” seems to have gone out the window at times. We always have today to change again. This minute I am refreshed. Thanks again!
Thank you so much for sharing that. It saddens me to admit that I have done the same thing many times as a mother and have hated myself afterwards every time. I feel like I have gotten better control of my anger over the years but every now and then I “boil over”. I always end up apologizing to my kids when this happens but I would prefer that it didn’t happen at all. Your willingness to be vulnerable brings to light an issue that I’m sure happens more than most of us know beacuse we put on our “mommy face” most of the time when we’re around others. I think more healing and positive change can happen when we are honest with ourselves and others. Thank you again!
Rachel, you just read my mind.
I’ve been an API (Attachment Parenting International) local group leader since my first was 4 mos old. I’d read what seemed to me like every book available on “getting ahold of myself!” and reeling in the fury. I felt like a fraud – leading meetings and yelling at home. When I lead meetings and spoke about respectful parenting, I was honest about my shortcomings – I’ve always said I became an API leader not because of what an awesome parent I was, but precisely because of how prevalent my shortcomings as a parent were. I became a leader to foster community so I could surround myself with like-minded families and be reminded on a regular basis that we can learn to do this together.
When I reached critical mass in rage and unmanaged fury, I was scared that there was going to be a tragedy. Not that I would physically abuse a child, but that in a rage as I stormed out the door and angrily got the children in the car I would be so distracted that I would get in a wreck, I would hit a pedestrian, I would kill somebody inside or outside of the car I was driving.
I did the work, I got the help, I engaged the children, I let my husband into the process. I surrendered, I became courageous, I let go, I asked for help, I communicated, I decided to love and to be happy, not right. Not on my own, HA! With community with family with professionals with much love and Spirit/God. I should say “We” did all those things “I” did.
Today our lives are So. Much. Better. But still so flawed. I remember my children telling me they were afraid, that I was scaring them. They were so little. I fear those memories – burned into their neural pathways by adrenalin and cortisol – will dominate. But the fear is just that, fear. My hope is the mitigating factor of time, healing, and the living amends of different responses and behaviors from me. I hope to at least allow for them to have an equal or greater number of memories infused with joy, that easy feeling of long languid summer days, laughter, comfort, respect, freedom and love.
Your post resonated deeply in my heart, a friend shared it on fb and it caught my eye. I appreciate knowing I am not alone, I am not “bad” or a monster, I am redeemable and we, as a family, are doing the best we can.
I love that we get to embrace our perfect imperfection and I revel in that freedom.
Thank you dear Rachel,
Coco
Thank you, Coco, for bravely sharing where you were and how far you have come. Thank you for sharing the steps you took, the support you got, the faith you held on to. I am certain your story will change a life today. Thank you for blessing us with your story and your hope. We are not alone. We are not alone.
Coco,
Thank you for such brutal honesty, I feel like I could be reading my own story. I love my child more than life itself and I know that there have been more times than I’d like to admit that I have created true fear in him. Like you said, I appreciate knowing that I am not alone, that I am not a monster, I am redeemable and doing the best I can.
HUGS. Lots of them. I have been in your shoes and I know how hard it feels. I am proud of you for letting go, for forgiving yourself, for forgiving your daughter. And I am proud of you for turning a tough moment into an inspiring moment. Yells happen – it’s what we do with them afterwords and what we learn from them that matters. Yells can throw us down or pick us up – you let yours pick you up and that is inspiring as always. Thinking of you….
Thank you, friend. You are such an inspiration to me and so many! I have learned so much from you. I appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts here.
“Let it go.” Every now and then I try. I will try again.
This made me laugh & tear up!
I truly appreciate your site. I’ve been reading along for a long time and I’m so grateful that I turned my shouting and raging around before it was too late. I’m sitting next to my daughter’s hospital bed where 10 days ago she was diagnosed with a pineal gland brain tumor. All those times I told her to hurry up, all the times I got frustrated we were going to always forever be late to go places, I worked hard to let go of all that about a year ago. You’ve helped me and I’m grateful I have these skills now. I’m grateful that you post your journey and help us all.
Compassion.
Love.
Time is short.
I just wanted to say thank you.
-marie
Marie, my heart is with you today. Please know that I am holding you and your daughter close in prayer and in thought. I am grateful for your story and the people you will bring closer today because you graciously shared it. With love to you, dear one.
Oh, I love this. I just wrote a post (for tomorrow) about an experience last week where I lost my temper for no good reason and felt awful about it. I was reminded, yet again, of the power of saying I am sorry, let’s move on. xox
Wonderful post. Actually it all comes down to forgiveness, doesn’t it?
Your stories mirror mine! I have two great little boys (ages 5 and 2) that are rambunctious and fun-loving. I used to be a perfectionist and you can’t be that way with children. I have changed myself for the better because of my kids. I can now shrug off (and even laugh at) things that would have made me furious years ago. I still lose my temper from time to time and yell at the kids and get very ashamed. I always immediately apologize and tell my boys they can tell me to “Cool it, Mom!” We’re all works in progress and your writing really hits home. I think you’re doing great! Thank you for the inspiration.
This touched a chord in me too. Thank you for posting. I shared with my girlfriends.
Thank you. That’s all I can say. I discovered your site a month or so ago after my husband commented that, even when I was home, I wasn’t. I had clients emailing all times of the day and night. It only took 1 to complain that I was not fast enough in my response (less than 24 hours lapsed from the 4am email she sent on Sunday morning) to make me constantly check my phone. I am learning to let go of it and my work stress. I am still a work in progress. Thank you for reminding me that I am not alone.
I have had that experience, minus the overflow–the plunger has a set place in the house now so we all know where it is! A quick story from the other day…I thought of you and immediately stopped and switched gears. My 1o yo DD had made a collage for school. I gave her specific instructions (which her daddy was not there for) about which pics to use and if she was going to use certain pics, to please make sure someone took a digital picture of the original as I do not have backups.
OK, we’re good, right? Nope, not so much.
I stepped out to the drug store around the corner for a quick errand for another DD and came back to find ALL the pics butchered and a finished collage. Upon my return, my DD showed so proudly her collage and I said it looked amazing. It was only then that I saw the cut up pics that I so needed duplicates of in the collage. With this, I saw only “weeds” and proceeded to ask if anyone had listened to my instructions. Blank stares from everyone. Uh oh. I was so annoyed that I was blinded by the success and beautiful collage my daughter had created that I ranted–but for a just a minute. I realized–“FLOWERS.” I apologized to my daughter and praised her enormously for her beautiful work. I also then grabbed the scraps of the pics without her seeing and managed to salvage the one photo that meant the most–the one with my mother holding her as a baby.
This post reminds me of that night. I tend to breathe through things now, resolve the problem at hand, and make sure everyone’s smile, including mine, is still there by the end of the day.
Thanks for sharing…your stories touch your readers in so many ways that each day remains bright, cherry, and hopeful.
BTW, since your post “Taking Away My Daughter’s Smile” I’m still unplugged from all social networking and will only read/comment on your posts when I am home alone. I said that post was life changing–and I meant it. <3 <3
I have had that experience, minus the overflow–the plunger has a set place in the house now so we all know where it is! A quick story from the other day…I thought of you and immediately stopped and switched gears. My 1o yo DD had made a collage for school. I gave her specific instructions (which her daddy was not there for) about which pics to use and if she was going to use certain pics, to please make sure someone took a digital picture of the original as I do not have backups.
OK, we’re good, right? Nope, not so much.
I stepped out to the drug store around the corner for a quick errand for another DD and came back to find ALL the pics butchered and a finished collage. Upon my return, my DD showed so proudly her collage and I said it looked amazing. It was only then that I saw the cut up pics that I so needed duplicates of in the collage. With this, I saw only “weeds” and proceeded to ask if anyone had listened to my instructions. Blank stares from everyone. Uh oh. I was so annoyed that I was blinded by that instead of her success and the beautiful collage my daughter had created that I ranted–but for a just a minute. I realized–“FLOWERS.” I apologized to my daughter and praised her enormously for her beautiful work. I also then grabbed the scraps of the pics without her seeing and managed to salvage the one photo that meant the most–the one with my mother holding her as a baby.
This post reminds me of that night. I tend to breathe through things now, resolve the problem at hand, and make sure everyone’s smile, including mine, is still there by the end of the day.
Thanks for sharing…your stories touch your readers in so many ways that each day remains bright, cherry, and hopeful.
BTW, since your post “Taking Away My Daughter’s Smile” I’m still unplugged from all social networking and will only read/comment on your posts when I am home alone. I said that post was life changing–and I meant it. <3 <3
I absolutely love your blog! Your are such an inspiration to slow down and enjoy our children.
I recently stumbled across your blog via a Facebook friend. Every single post I have read moves me to tears. The birth of my daughter has really opened my eyes to the world we raise her in, not just as a whole but closer at home, too. It is through you that I have realized how connected and hurried and sad our way of life had gotten. I struggle every single day to try and live in each moment and not look too far ahead. To show her that quality is better than quantity. I thank you for putting your life out there for us to relate to and look up to and for showing me there is a better way. Please keep doing what you are doing! It has changed my life and I hope it changes my daughters!
I love your articles! Each one speaks to me, personally. Cleaning Up the Heart Break is such a beautiful experience for you to share. I love how you ended up handling that. The beginning was all-too-familiar. You’ve opened my eyes to numerous things, beginning with your The Last Time I Said Hurry Up (Your first article I read – thanks to a girlfriend at work). Thank you for opening up your personal life. Thank you for sharing your wonderful little girls’ lives with us. Thank you for reminding (and teaching) us to live a Hands Free life, enjoy our little ones, and just breathe. (Your new page design is beautiful!)
I so love reading your blog, it brings me to tears almost every time! I have been trying to follow the Hands Free philosophy, and thought it would be easy, but it is harder than I thought. I am working on it though. I always forward your posts to my hubby, reminding him to slow down and stop rushing. Hopefully something will rub off on him 🙂
Thank you!
Thanks so much for sharing. This is a refreshing perspective to see that we all make mistakes and that we can say we are sorry and grow from them. I do have had a hard time learning to let go when I’ve made a mistake. It’s difficult to stop beating yourself up mentally, even after you have physically moved on. Thank you for sharing your personal stories.
Thank you for sharing your story and would like to reiterate how important it is as parents, human beings to talk and explain your emotions, as both my husband and I are living with the results of parents who hid their feelings. I have trouble being true with how I feel and become resentful and my husband doesn’t know how to convey how he feels, which frustrates him… So as parents how can we effectively guide our children as they learn to deal with a myriad of emotions that they feel each day or as they come into contact with people whom are showing various emotions, especially their parents… I have already seen how appreciative my children have been when I explained how I am feeling and as hard as it is to say sorry, to then have your child hug you and say that it is ok, you are trying mum.
Thank you for this valuable insight and information, Katrina. I appreciate you taking the time to courageously share and improve the lives of those who read your words.
Oh gosh. I’m laughing. I’m crying. I’m reminded of the important stuff. I so needed to read this right now. Thank you.
Rachel,
I have been following your blog since April (or earlier). I changed my homepage to handsfreemama.com soon after for two reasons: 1. So that every time I get on the internet it’s the first thing I see and 2. Every time there is a new post I save it to my computer as a pdf file so I have it forever! I always get something out of everything of yours I read and I want to thank you for that. There have been times after reading one of your posts that I feel bad about myself as a mother. And I know that is probably the exact opposite of your intent, but I think it’s fueled by my own insecurities. It was a relief to read this post and realize that even a mother who has committed herself completely to this journey can and still does have these moments of total anger and frustration, when part of you wants to give in to the anger and yell and blame. So I want to thank you for sharing your moment of weakness and imperfection. I appreciate your honesty and the courage it took to type these words. This post gives me a feeling of hope that I am on the right track and that I can learn to “let it go” when I fall short, for I am a bit of a perfectionist too. And like you I will keep pushing myself to remember what matters most because my two little girls are worth it.
{tears} thank you, friend, for allowing me to be real … for letting me know your own painful truths … for making my words your homepage–one of the most incredible compliments I have ever received. I got a few nasty messages today as a result of sharing my story, but in one single gift, a message written by you, they are gone. Your words are the ones I choose to hold on to. I am grateful for you today.
I have tears now too! I was upset about something before reading your reply, but reading that I gave you one of the most incredible compliments has made my day. And knowing that my message was a gift to you is a gift right back to me! It is the least I could do for someone who has given so much to so many others and myself. I am SO glad I decided to leave a comment today, it was my first time to do so. But it meant that much to me that I felt compelled to do it. I am honored that my words are the ones you choose to hold on to. I cannot imagine any part of your story causing someone to want to leave a nasty message. You unselfishly shared honest words that I am sure were not easy to type for the benefit of others and for people to take advantage of that vulnerability is despicable. Maybe one day they will get it, I don’t know. But despite that hatefulness I hope you continue sharing your journey. And know that your honesty is always appreciated by the majority of your followers. We are grateful for you everyday.
I find myself all too often having to say sorry to my children (I’m sorry I was late picking you up today, I’m sorry I forgot you needed to take this or that to school today, I’m sorry I shouted when we I was trying to get you to school on time this morning) and yet it still seems so hard each time. Each time, I’m admitting to myself as well as to them that I’ve let them down in some way. And yet, at the same time, I do feel that at least by saying sorry I’m teaching them that it’s ok not to be perfect and it’s ok to be sorry and that their feelings count (and that I have feelings too that sometimes get in the way of what I’m trying to do). We can teach our children so much by modelling the good behaviour we’d like them to emulate but sometimes I feel that it is when we make mistakes that we teach them the most – especially if we’re not afraid to say we’re sorry! Thanks for sharing and letting me know I’m not alone!
Thank you as always for your encouraging posts. I love the message of this blog that there can always be healing and change in relationship patterns in our families. I am familiar with that frightened look on my girls’ faces as they wait for me to lose it over some unintentional mistake or accident and it’s such a difficult and convicting thing to see. Even though I lose it much less often than I used to I also find it difficult to let go of times I haven’t done so well in the past. It amazes me how quick my kids are to accept an apology, forgive and move on – just another reminder of how I’m learning so much more than I’m teaching on this parenting journey!
Thank you, Rachel. With a rambunctious, fun-loving 2.5 year old son and a three-month-old daughter at home, I find myself on the precipice of these almost-tear-your-hair-out moments all the time lately. I’ve had two moments where I didn’t yell AT my son, but I yelled sort of at the wall out of sheer frustration (if I recall, one time I yelled, “I need to be EIGHT DIFFERENT PEOPLE AT ONCE!” and the other, I actually yelled, “CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!” It would be funny if it hadn’t been so awful). Of course, he can’t really tell the difference between me yelling at him or just near him, and on both occasions, I looked down at him to see his face fall and his bottom lip protrude, and I heard him start to say to himself in a tearful voice, “It’s OK” (his way of soothing himself). Both times, I immediately regretted letting the yells fly, and I bent down and apologized profusely, trying to explain that I wasn’t yelling at him. Since those two moments, I’ve been trying not to let myself get so tightly wound in the first place. It is remarkable how much a deep breath and an exhale, along with a reminder that “it’s just water” or “this won’t stain” or “he is not doing this to me personally” can help diffuse the heat of those moments. Thanks again.
Amazingly beautiful and honest. And I SO relate. I am so grateful I have realized who I was and what I need to keep working on. That I fail, but what matters most is that I recognize that, and can admit it and say I’m sorry. And then learn and grow. I love being a mother, and I am so glad I can now know what is really important in life and in my vocation as a mama. Thanks so much for this. Such a great reminder and it is so nice to know there are others going through the same thing! God bless your family!
Dear Rachel,
I am amazed how your posts come to me just when I need them! Today, as the family and I were settling down hungrily for dinner in a sushi restaurant, my almost three year old daughter accidentally spilt a bowl of hot miso soup all over me… As I sat there soaking (and a bit in shock), your words came to me and instead of worrying about myself I looked clearly down at my daughter who was completely and utterley devastated at what she had done. Your wisdom allowed me to get a hold of myself before I got upset, wipe myself off and reassure my daughter with a smile that there was plenty more soup in the kitchen. The tears sprouting from my daughters eyes slowly halted and she looked up to me with such grateful ness that I knew I’d done the right thing. On behalf of my daughters precious heart and sensitive soul, thank you! I read your words every day and they help me more than you could ever know. xoxo
Wow. Claudia, I don’t even know what to say. What you have given me is such an incredible gift. To know that by sharing my painful truths, I was able to help spare someone else pain is truly humbling to me. As I wipe my happy tears away, my heart says thank you. xoxo
I wasn’t blessed with children, but if was given the enormous privaledge of caring for my elderly Mom for the past ten years, until she went into a nursing home a few months ago. I can SO relate to this post, there were TOO many times where I lost my temper, only to regret what I said. I always apologize but the guilt remains because it is never okay to make anyone else feel scared or wrong for something that was a mistake. Thank goodness over time I have learned that being a perfectionist is not good for me or anyone else and have tried very hard to let things go, take a breath and realize that in the long run this (whatever it is at the moment) doesn’t really matter in the big scheme of things. Thank you for your honesty and compassion. I love reading your posts and I feel like it is so nice to see people being honest and trying to do better, it is uplifting!
I don’t know if this is true for others, but when I forgive myself iam much more forgiving to others. . .
Dear Rachel,
This is exactly the post I needed after a weekend full of yelling, tears, demands and hurt feelings. My 3.5 yr old daughter was very upset this weekend and try as I might to stay patient and help her work through those feelings I lost it. More than once. And both my husband and I lost it during a particularly trying 3 hr marathon bedtime routine. I actually spanked her butt, which I’ve never done before, which felt right in the heat of the moment. But in that second my hand struck her, guilt and pain washed over me and I knew I was wrong and causing more problems than not. A particular part about your post struck me, about your daughter vividly remembering a past incident in which you yelled at her. I don’t doubt my daughter will remember this incident due to it’s rarity, as it will be the first and last time I put my hands on her, but a remarkable thing happened after we both calmed down. She wanted me to hold her, and I did. I apologized, and she took my face in her hands and said “It’s ok Mommy, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” Her patience, acceptance and forgiveness in that moment floored me. I guess in all my haste to be a mindful parent, in my quest for peaceful parenting perfection, something has been forgotten. I AM raising an intelligent and thoughtful young person, I just need to give her a chance to be that person on her own terms. Had I stopped to ask what was upsetting her instead of raging about her behavior I may have been able to be more understanding and reduced the yelling and arguing to almost nothing. This post was so inspiring because it reminds us not only to just let it go, but to forgive ourselves our mistakes and allow others to forgive ourselves too. Wow did I need to read this! Thank you for your honesty and insight,
Alexia
Thank you for sharing this honest post. Had to fight back tears. Made me think of my own sweet child, who – though I very very seldom yell anymore – immediately says “sorry sorry sorry!” whenever he makes any kind of mistake. Every time it is a sword to my soul because I know how / why he learned to apologize for mere mistakes. Because I never cried over spilled milk – but I’ve yelled at it.
Thank you so much for sharing this story. I was raised in a home where my mother yelled all of the time, mostly at me. She never learned to control her emotions and always exploded over the smallest things. I always knew I did not want to repeat that behavior once I became a mother. But here I am, the mother of a toddler, and I’ve been finding myself repeating those behaviors I most dislike. I’m now working on managing my emotions and not overreacting to everyday irritations. I also just began Parent-Child Interaction Therapy, and I’m so excited about my journey towards becoming a calmer, more soothing and gentle mother–the mother I always dreamed I’d be.
Your articles always speak to me!
We homeschool our remaining 4 kids (out of 6) and it can be very challenging in good and not so good ways at times…but your article really spoke to me. I was laughing through a lot of it because I have been there many times as well and crying through other parts as I have had to grow through anger and wanting things perfect, at least some times. Part of the problem for me is that my husband is a perfectionist and you can well imagine that with 6 other minds (read kids here~ sloppy, lazy kids mind you) well things are far from perfect at our household! He doesn’t seem to understand that there is a lot to homeschooling as well as being mom and wife that I can not keep up on everything. I have to pick my battles, and try to find neutral ground when I can so that I do not come off as picking on them all the time. As is evident of my two oldest ones now done with homeschooling time goes way too fast and I want us all to enjoy the ride as much as we can!
Thank you for all you do!
~God bless
Dear Rachel:
A Rabi frend of mine recommended me your page and I am grateful for that. I found in your words confort and understanding. We have a 3 year old child, and he is wonderful. He has his days you know, and those days are the days we want to “throw him out of the window” because he behaves so stubborn and want to do everything like he likes to do. If we let him, he rules our entire lives, and it is hard for us to handle with him. That`s why God have not give us another kid yet, as we have to get accustomed to deal with those things, things of being parents, limits, that are difficult to put, not yealling (that is even more difficult because he is pulling the rope all the time, all the day). Something that works sometimes is to give him prices, and good words when he behaves good, but as the times he does are the less, it is not very conforting for us. I felt so much in my inside the situation that you describe, it happens to me all the time, not the same situation but similar ones. It is classic when we have to go (rushing in the morning, something I try not to, but couldn´t manage yet) and he wants to play, and stays in the floor and I have to drag him to the elevator because he does not move until he gets what he wants.
Above all, he is such a good boy, and helps me when I buy in the supermarket with the bags, and obeys most of the times. Even though, sometimes I feel like a coronel in the army. I love to read your articles, they make me feel I am not the only one passing through this situations and it helps me understand that it can be different and all depends on us. How the situation works out depends on how we take them. Something that is very easy to say and difficult to implement but I STILL THINK IT IS WORTH TO CONTINUE TRYING. Thank you Rachel.
Ruth
Thank you, Ruth. I so appreciate you taking time to share your story and to let me know the impact of my words. I felt so hopeful when I read your second to last line about it being “worth it to keep trying.” This is the notion that saves me time and time again–to just keep trying–even though I mess up, even though I stumble, I keep trying. And I truly believe our children see that we are trying and it matters more than we will ever know. Please tell your Rabi friend I am grateful he is helping to spread the Hands Free message and grow this supportive community of people who are trying. With love.
Changing yourself for the better is a journey, and something that can take years to perfect! It sounds like you handled this unfortunate situation so much better than you would have in the past…and the fact that you were able to recognize your behavior and make amends is huge. I really hope that I can be as aware as you. I find myself snapping at my husband when I get angry about something even though I know the yelling doesn’t help-obviously some communication techniques we learn from our parents- but I hope to stop the cycle with my own children. I love your posts and look forward to them. I can relate to your feelings so much!
You made me cried reading this.. I have grown to love your blog.. it reminds me that its ok to screw up sometimes, (every other mom does..) It’s ok to say sorry to my kiddo, it’s ok to admit that mommy’s not always strong and right…
Wow….that’s me. On & off…the anguish comes and goes. I think now I’ll finally banish it. Thank you, Rachel. I desperately needed that.
No matter how “hands-free” we go, I believe that we all crave for perfection. On moments like these, when we “forget” for a second who we are, how much we accomplished, how far we came from being distracted, it’s almost natural to go on a guilt trip and sulk for a while…
We, however, are imperfect beings… Always will be! What I tell myself when I make a mistake, when I fail my own hands-free living methods, is that I am doing my best. And my best has to be good enough.
Rachel, I firmly believe that you really ARE doing ALL that you can to be the person and parent you want to be. So am I and so is every single reader I see on this blog.
Think how beautiful it was for your daughters to see you lose it and ask for forgiveness… I am betting they are going to remember this later in their lives when they make their own mistakes… They won’t be afraid to ask for forgiveness from their own children and loved ones. They will be brave enough to say “I am sorry! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have done that. Will you please forgive me?”
And that is a treasure all in itself.
I grew up with parents who NEVER apologized. They were ALWAYS right. And, truth be told, they WERE doing their best. However, not hearing enough “I’m sorry”, made it harder for me to accept my own mistakes. I had to be taught how to say “I am sorry” and how to actually FORGIVE myself for my own mistakes.
Make no mistake, Rachel… That was a HUGE lesson.
“It’s what we do with those mistakes that makes or breaks the chance to salvage a broken heart.”
That is like a balm for my heart.
Thank you, friend.
Patience, Love, Understanding, Forgiveness, Wisdom…. All of these things you are teaching with your words and leading by example. Not an image of unatainable perfection, but a real human being…. You Are Great. Thank you so much for sharing your stories and insights with us. I truly cannot wait to read your book.
Thank you for having the courage to write this and to have this blog , this family and to have created this community for us to come to. This story is eye opening and inspiring and lets us all know that we are just human . I too am on a mission to not be so distracted with trying to hurry from this task to that task.. that is not what life is all about.. I am happy to take your hand along this journey… thank you.
Just a tip: if it ever begins overflowing again, turn the valve on the back of the flush. It will stop the tank from filling any further.
Good to know! Thank you, Laura!
This may sound silly, but it is so refreshing to hear that you, like me, have moments as a parent where you aren’t your best. I love the truth that you share and how much it helps me grow. And I also love this post because it shows the grace needed in parenting. I wrote a few thoughts on this months back.
http://thesimplystated.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-parenting-yin-and-yang.html?m=0
Thanks – as always – for your inspirational words, Rachel! Can’t wait to buy your book!
I loved it, Susan! Thank you for sharing. I left you a comment on your blog.
God bless you Rachel for being so honest. You could have so easily decided not to write this post and not own up to being human and still getting angry on occasion. I think writing it however just adds to your message – we are all human and are going to continue to make mistakes and learn from them. The power and importance of asking for forgiveness cannot be underestimated. Not just from our kids (who are so wonderful at forgiving and moving on ) but most importantly from God.
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1-9.
Thank you for this blog!I have considered it and considered it over and over in mind so many times over the last few months.Today, I was thinking about your blog and I was think about my children’s feet (its laundry day and I was folding their little socks) and I think about all the times I felt my children kick in my womb and how much delight I had to feel that!I thought of after the baby shower and being in awe of those tiny socks and how my baby was going to wear them.
Now my kids are 6 and 8 and I love to take of their socks and tickle their feet and I love when I see the little feet sticking out from blankets.I love in the summer when they are running barefoot through the sand.I loved to see those feet dance with the princesses at Disney World.
Then I think about how I wish those little feet would move faster!How I get so angry when I see those feet have no shoes or socks on them when its time for school!I think about how those little feet kick off shoes and don’t keep track of those shoes and I have to look for that shoe under the bed!I want those feet to stop skipping because I am trying to get in the store quickly!I want those feet to avoid puddles so I don’t have to deal with the mess later.I give those feet angry looks and worst of all I give the owners of those feet angry words.
I don’t know if you are a believer but I am and I have to tell you that you are a blessing to me!You help me to treasure those socks, treasure those little feet, and remember that those feet are not in my way but those feet are following in my footsteps and I want those little feet to love the path I lead them down. Thank you!
Thank you for sharing this story. I could picture the whole mess unfolding. That is exactly the sort of incident that would cause me to have a meltdown. I am encouraged by how you have learned to handle tough situations better for the sake of your family.
This is wonderful! Thank you!
I read this post over a week ago. A few days later, I was getting my 4 children ready for church by myself. I was going to sing in church and I was nervous. As I got in the shower, my oldest daughter ran in and told me the toilet was overflowing downstairs. So, naked, I ran down the stairs, assessed the situation and thought of you. I didn’t yell, but starting laughing at the ridiculousness of my living out your scenario that I had just read about. I plunged the toilet, cleaned up the mess, and went on with my shower.
Thanks for sharing and reminding me of what I want to be. It usually helps, but this time, it was particularly useful.
Kris
Thanks for sharing, Kris! You have given me a huge smile this morning! You totally win the “Stayed Calm Under Highly Inconvenient Situations” award!
‘….admitted any wrongdoings feels clumsy, like a foreign language.’. Thank you. I am not the only one.
Great story. I just have to say this because it’s a good lesson for everyone. Why didn’t you just turn off the toilet when you saw that it was overflowing. It’s behind the toilet and you just turn the knob to the right to shut off the water and prevent it from overflowing. (Righty tighty, lefty loosey) THEN you get the plunger to fix it. This has saved me so many times.
Thank you!
I stumbled upon your blog accidentally. I am so glad I did. You are so brave for sharing your trials and imperfections. I saw myself in everything you said in this blog and others I have read. I am extremely hard on my kids, and reading this gave me some hope that I can change. I was raised in an abusive home, and feel that my actions and reactions are all related to how I grew up. It’s hard to stop the cycle of verbal abuse. It’s hard to control my temper and not let it get out of control over the littlest things. I truly want to become a hands free mama. My kids deserve it. Why should they grow up the way I did? I am going to become a faithful reader. But for now I am going to go read a book with my youngest son. Thank you.
Beautiful post, Rachel! I remember losing it when my eldest threw all her food on the floor. I shouted at her and made her stand on the corner. I felt bad because she gets extremely scared every time she realizes that she’s done something wrong. I am trying to “heal” her from the incident by being gentle even when she did something naughty.
Your blog I exactly what I needed. A wake up call to Stop. To stop being mean to my husband and my kids. To stop bullying myself. To stop being in such a rush all the time. And to start living my life one moment at a time.
There have been far too many times where I feel awful, as a mother, because I let the need for getting things done come before my two kids. And I’ve seen that look in my 6 year old daughter’s eyes. I hate that I make her feel that way. I have been working on becoming less of a yeller, but it’s not always easy. Thank you for this site. For your words. For your encouragement that we can fix those mistakes.
Trying to type this with my eyes filled with tears. Hopefully it will all come out right!
I yell, I swear, I fill like I am constantly break my children down, and it kills me. If the day/situation isn’t going how I feel it should I blow up. Not on a daily basis but enough times to make me feel horrible about myself and my job as parent.
But since the start of the New Year, I have vowed to myself to better myself to be a better mom. Because of your (and others) facebook page and blog it has made it a lot easy for me to take a deep breath and think before I blow up. Granted it has been less then 20 days but it’s a start and I am proud of myself.
So thank you for your stories, thank you for letting me now that I am not alone in my faults, and thank you for helping me believe that I can change and be the mom I truly want to be…..
Rachel,
My good friend recently introduced me to your blog and I just wanted to tell you how refreshing it is to read your posts. Just yesterday, I blew up at my daughter over a belt. Yes, a belt on an American Girl dress which probably cost more than any article of clothing in my closet. However, it took me a few minutes and a lot of tears to realize it was, in fact, a belt! An inanimate object. A material thing. Something that I could most likely fix after a quick trip to my local fabric store. The important part of this story though, is that I realized I was wrong. And like you, I sat my daughter down and apologized to her for getting so upset. I explained to her that her father and I work hard to be able to give her the nice things she asks for and that it’s important to take care of our things. I also added that I was proud of her for trying to dress herself and that I realized she did not break it intentionally. Accidents happen. I am constantly reminding myself of this (especially since my daughters are 3 and 6), but I think I need to remember that I am human and that I, too will make mistakes. Owning up to those mistakes and taking responsibility for my actions is the key. And being able to share those feelings with my girls teaches a valuable lesson not only to them, but to me as well. Thank you for the reminder that we (as mothers) are human and we WILL make mistakes…and we can fix them.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’ve lived that experience just with different circumstances. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for helping me to remember that we are all human; we’re all trying our best. Anyone out there who hasn’t lived this experience, you’re a different person than us…but that doesn’t make you any better. Just different.
As other commenters have pointed out, it is ok (healthy, even!) for your children to witness you being…human.
The lesson they learned from your (not-really-that-bad) behavior is so incredibly valuable! It’s ok to be imperfect, it’s ok for others to be imperfect. It’s ok to have feelings. All is not lost when you make a mistake. The people who loved you before will love you just as much after. It’s ok to apologize. It’s ok to forgive. There’s hope after heartache.
In school, we called this the importance of ‘modeling conflict resolution’. Which just means that to produce healthy, resilient children, we adults need to show them how to make mistakes…and how to clean them up. (No pun intended.). 🙂
Good job, Mama!
xo
You wee called a monster for this? I would react exactly like this and feel proud! Ha. Sewage water is a true test. You just yelled a little. My mom would have smacked the heck out of me (meaning well, but still).
I only wish my physically abusive adoptive father would give me an apology. I’m 45 and it isn’t comjng. It isn’t coming from my mother either who emotionally abused me -all over having a disorder called trichotillomania. This story bresks my heart in that you think this is so bad -you can’t imagine the trauma some people go through. Your kids are blessed.
I am so very sorry, Daniela, for the pain, the abuse, the abandonment you experienced from those who were supposed to love you and protect you. My heart is with you today and I am praying you find peace. May your days ahead be brighter than the ones behind you.
I am so glad I went onto my husbands facebook page to see what you were sharing today. Your words were desperately needed today. I am getting ready to go on a long trip and feel quite overwhelmed and short fused today. But I have pulled myself back a few times and even vocalized to the girls that I need some extra space and love for MYSELF today! Your blog, books, words have helped me develop this ability.
I am sorry you were criticized harshly when this first was published because I would imagine that you were not quite as strong back then. Actually, that is an assumption that maybe criticism doesn’t hurt you as much anymore – which may not be true. I hope you are able to remind yourself that nothing is personal…whoever criticized you is only projecting their own judgement toward themselves onto you. May all the love showered on you by the rest of us, wash away the hurt caused by a few.
Much love,
Jenny
Kids are going to get yelled at once in a while and guess what? It’s perfectly okay. Yep, I said it. This new culture that dissects every parenting moment and makes it a life altering and changing event because you raised your voice at your child is simply nonsense. The endless diatribes of being present, perfect and conscious is just contributing to the gross exaggeration of it all. No one is perfect and by feeding these moms this baloney is I’m sure only contributing to them feeling like more of a failure. It’s all a facade. I’m talking about mainstream families here nothing borderlining on something bigger like abuse. I grew up in a big Irish family with strong mom and a hard working faithful Dad. News flash, there was lots of noise and yep we got yelled at…alot. Fast forward we are all great. . A very close family that others gravitate towards. We share laughter over some of those crazy stories. Like when I sprinkled the carpet with cheerios and my sister was behind me pouring the milk on top. Life happens. People Yell. But people love to. If you are a loving parent that is what is going to come through so take some advice….give yourselves a break. It’s normal to yell once in a while and it doesn’t need to be given a second thought.
Thank you this. I am really struggling with my reactions to my children and I needed to read this today. I so appreciate everything you write and really hope to be where you are in my own hands free journey someday.