Family, Work

to yell or not to yell


I fight the tingling in my nose;  a sneeze working its way out.  I have been fortunate, this flu season, and have missed the high fevers that my two older sons endured last week.  But alas, I feel my body succumbing.  I open the windows to hear the pitter-patter of blessed rain!   Breathe.  I glance at my framed word art to remind me.  Breathing space and humble grace.


It took all of my willpower to not scream at all the various people entering into my workspace.  A few of my pet peeves surfaced today: procrastination (not on my part), lack of clear communication and those who take satisfaction in watching others struggle because it’s not my job or not my problem.   If ever you really wanna irritate me you can either brag incessantly or pass-the-buck.   I usually grin and walk away; letting the comments slide like water off a duck’s back. But those social cues don’t necessarily get picked up by most.


It’s only when it matters that I choose to speak my mind.  I finally spoke succinctly.  I did not have to shout.  When my sons called at work to “check-in” I forewarned them.  Do not mess with Mommy today.    The WSJ article came to mind, affirmation that I learned from my own experiences with my children.

Talking to Your Child After You Yell:How Yelling Can Hurt, and How to Stop It

I sit alone upstairs after dinner with my gratitude journal.  The goal is to get to one-thousand and I am half-way there.  I began to count things I am thankful for in September; as a reminder of the simple things in life that I take for granted.

#555. Boys happy to see me after a long, grumpy day; even the teen.

My sons are accustomed to my frank comments.  When asked why I was grumpy they genuinely listened and, to my surprise, commiserated.  They are beginning to understand empathy.  The Wall Street Journal article states that, we, parents, yell more at our kids since we have been conditioned to avoid spanking.  On numerous occasions my in-laws have taken liberties to criticize this approach; the strange ideals of our Gen X generation.    The article cites studies that children who are raised with constant yelling get less satisfaction in relationships, as adults.

I totally get that.


The middle son snapped the shot during our early morning school drop-off.  On this short drive the details and schedules of our day are discussed.  The car is my quiet zone; the boys filling in the silence as I maneuver amongst insane parent drivers.  I am being more careful with my driving habits since kids learn to mirror the behaviors parents exhibit behind the wheel.   I do not gesticulate with my hands as often and am trying to watch my words.

When I do make inappropriate comments my sons will admonish me.  Do you have to lean on the horn Mom?  or Calm down!  These days I own up to my sons’ criticisms and sheepishly apologize.  I do NOT want my boys to become drivers like myself.  My ingrained habit to mutter or gesture is extremely hard to break.  But I continue to work on it.   No more yelling.   Discipline…be a good disciple.

#554.  Tax paperwork filed.

I think of the long and boring monotonous days and catch myself.  These are the days I need to cherish; the no-drama, hum-drum days filled with nothing eventful.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  When something goes awry in our lives we long for this routine and sameness; droll as it may be. 

#557.  A purring cat and rain on the roof.


But it was after I had deposited my son at the golf course, sharing my day as he laughed, that I discovered my flaw.  As I grow older my tolerance, my empathy, for others grows short.   I am glad I kept my  frustration in check; sharing my words without yelling at others (okay the hubs heard the brunt of my rant before I left to pick up my child) or taking it out on my kids.  I was able to find my words.  It is this simple thing that has made all the difference in my day; saying what I mean.  Let it go.  Go with the flow. 

I am thankful.

2014 WordArt


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