Orange Rhino Days something - something else

I don't know.  I'm not really keeping track of this.  At first I was, and I'd call Hubby (who was out of town when I started this all) and brag that I'd only yelled once that day.  Well, 'brag' isn't quite the right word, but he knows how much of an accomplishment this is!  Or maybe twice, but 'fillintheblank' is my lame rightful excuse.  Blahbity Blahbity Blah.  Whatever.

The point is, I'm improving.

Have I had a day when I didn't get upset?  No way.
Have I had a day when I didn't raise my voice?  Not on your life.
Have I had a day when I didn't lose it a little bit?  I wish.

But have I had a day when I lost it?  Nope.
But have I had a day when I flipped out?  Nuh-uh.
But have I had a day when I raged at anyone shorter than me?  Negatory, good buddy.

And THAT, my dear, is brag-worthy.  At least for me.  Which is really, really sad.  Because these kiddos...

(well, not ALL of them.  This is all but 5 of the cousins from my side of the family)

...these funny, crazy, awesome, wonderful monkeys are really what make my world go round.  Some days it rotates a little faster or wonkier than others, but that comes with the territory.

Anyway--I've been praying praying more consistently, which I believe is HUGE in this whole thing.

I've had a few million times when I had to shop myself mid-sentence for a ginormous breath and do physical things to calm myself down.  Things like consciously lower my shoulders and shake my arms out.  Or even growl at the ceiling.  Yes, I've snapped.  Yes, I've increased the tone, volume and intensity of my voice.  I'm not SuperMom yet.  And just because I'm not hollering doesn't mean that all of a sudden they listen and obey like they should.  (Man, I super wish that!)

(On a side note, I've wondered to myself and asked the children so, SO many times why I have to yell in order for them to even hear that I'm talking to them.  I just don't get it.)

So with all this less yelling and more talking and such, I've learned something:

The kids yell at each other.  A lot.  Especially the boys.  But now Cora has replaced the concept of "please don't do that" with an ear-splitting, shriek.  Lovely.  Abby's 12 now, and she's snippy and bossy to her siblings anyway, which is something that we've been working on.  Even Weston's joining in the squawky fun!  But the boys--wowie wow wow can they bellow!

And hearing the way that my children go at each other sometimes is hard for me.  (It's not hard 'sometimes,' the 'sometimes' modifies how often they go at each other.  And if it's the boys, 'sometimes' means a few times a day.)  In the moment I see/hear it and am simultaneously irritated that they're yelling for no good reason, ashamed because they learned it from me, understanding because I get that a raised voice has been their model and patient because I know that it will take a long, long time for my habits to be so changed and ingrained that they trickle down to their subconsciouses, too.  Of course, I always wonder why--if they're emulating my behavior--do they skip the first 3 times of asking nicely plus a couple of firm reminders and jump straight to the "I've had it" part.  I've always wondered that.

But in the meantime, I am accepting that I'm not perfect.  I am accepting that this will take time.  And I am accepting that this is a big change that will need to be made one millisecond day at a time.  And mostly I'm cognizant that I am raising five of Heavenly Father's wonderful, amazing, choice immortal spirits who are here having mortal experiences.  It's my job, my stewardship, my privilege to raise them up to Him by being loving, supportive, kind, good, loving, respectful, patient, sensitive, empathetic and loving.  Not mean.  By being a righteous mother in Zion I sort of feel that in helping them reach their potential I am fulfilling my own a little more, too.

And anyway, I love my crazy little brood!