It’s almost midnight and not much is well

Long day, fair readers. Long day. And I can briefly say that Peanut is handling kindergarten well, that he was reasonably eager the first few days of school.

Things are a bit stressful over here, between kindergarten and sibling asshattery and a mountain of freelance work (which I really wanted but which is piling up in my eagerness for work and inability to admit that two very active people demand almost all of my time).

So today I offer you this: someone else’s post. On keeping your cool. On seemingly insurmountable parenting anger and how to manage it. How to keep from sitting up at midnight worried that you’re making horrible, terrible, awful parenting choices. (Actually, that’s not in there. I really wish it were.)

Here. Enjoy. Identify your triggers, let the little stuff go, remember you’re teaching, and don’t take it personally. Thanks,

Mmmmmm. Anger stew.

Just found a couple of really good threads at mothering-dot-commmune about controlling anger and yelling. Not because I searched for those terms, of course. Not that I’m yelling at Peanut a lot or angry about 80% of every hour or anything. Of course not. Just happened upon them. Like, um, like stumbling onto four-leaf clovers. Sure. Not at all in a searching maniacally for clovers, or anything.

And the two points that came up repeatedly were pretty interesting and helpful. 1) Anger is usually about unmet needs. So if I figure out what to ask for help on, or what to address in my own life that I won’t react so angrily; and if I acknowledge that the little person in my house has needs, too, and his anger and frustration are his way, since he doesn’t have too many tools for getting his needs met, of getting me to do things.

So if I either meet my own needs or modify them, and try harder to help him meet his needs, rather than reacting as though his behavior is something to control, I may just eliminate a lot of the battles, yelling, and meltdowns.

It’s nice to remember, when I go months and months, spiraling into the “Oh my goodness I can’t handle this, how do other people do this, why am I nothing like the parent I want to be,” that there are resources for people who have the same issues. I wish I didn’t go so long between touchstone sessions. Because really, I could make this a lot easier on myself.

(Yeah. Right.)

So Peanut and I just need to practice asking for what we need.

Gotta go and tell him I need 12 hours a day of peace and quiet so I can read and write. He’ll tell me he needs 16 hours a day of sheer frenetic activity and sensory stimulation.

We’ll see how that conversation goes.