Change

So, my resolutions in the Emotional category are many and for good reason: I have GOT to change my general approach from stressed to happy! As I described it to Megan, "My general mood is not mad—it's waiting to be mad." As the kids have grown and required new parenting adjustments, along with maintaining the little kids, I didn't compensate by acquiring more coping skills. I read a lot about stress, parenting strategies, and anger-management (chronic anger means you're trying to control someone—haha that rung a bell :). But, as I contemplated making this change, I got so bogged down thinking how on earth am I going to change my very nature? My task-oriented, productive, plow-through, do-it-now core attitude, which translates into seeing/dealing with whiny, messy, forgetful kids as obstacles instead of my LIFE and my loves, which they are. I had just about convinced myself that I was stuck with my personality as is. But, humbled as I was (very), I prayed for strength and for measurable progress and had a thought: I could at least try an experiment. I would try to go an entire day without reacting stressfully, and I would track this as an "H" (happy) on my calendar ("S" for acting stressed out at any point during the day).

Tracking is critical for me. Last year I made resolutions and then promptly forgot all about them. This year I'm posting them in my closet and tracking some on my calendar, so I remember, I'm accountable, and I can hopefully see progress right there in black and white.

So far, I'm 15 "H's" for 15 days. It's been hard. I'm committed to make "H's" 21 days in a row, so then it'll technically be a habit. Then I'll work up to a full month, then longer. (I'll allow for a few mistakes IF I can tell I've made a fundamental change. Otherwise, I'll be in the depths...) But for now it's one challenging day at a time. Whereas before, I got my stress out through venting and through my tone of voice, now I carry that stress inside of me. I was surprised the first few days to actually feel it sitting there in my chest all day.

This is the part where I need to develop some serious coping skills. I figure it starts with my thoughts. I used to think I could talk all crazy-mad and sarcastic to myself just as long as the kids didn't hear it, but I realize now that it just feeds my stress, and it gets bigger... and sometimes the kids do hear me. And I need to adjust my expectations. And breathe. The biggest shift in my paradigm happened when it occurred to me—"If I'm mad, I can't have the Spirit with me. So even if I'm 'right,' I'm wrong." And we all know how I hate to be wrong :)

It is getting easier as the days pass. You can't believe how rewarding it is. The changes I've recognized in my kids at times and in the tone of the home flat out amaze me. Elle follows me around like a puppy dog—she just wants to be near me (she's not afraid of me anymore? ouch...) Mia asked, "Why are you so happy all the time now?" After Cam reported to me that Elle had peed the carpet for the 900th time (ok, we'll say 50th), Cam asked me, "Are you mad?" ...because he can't tell!!! I've confused everyone! It's awesome. And honestly, I'm not mad. The more days that pass, I find that I can accept most situations immediately (which requires a good dose of humility) and get straight to the solution. As long as I can stay focused on my number one priority—to not flip out—then, the whole world can fall apart temporarily, and I won't crumble along with it.

The kids' tantrums and disrespect are shorter-lived. Except when they're not. Mia, MK, and Getty in particular have decided they'd better train me good and hard by pulling out all the stops. The toughest test of my resolve was facing Getty after I informed him that I found out he had several missing assignments (typical), and that he would have to find or re-do them that weekend. After Getty went nuclear for three hours, during which I kept him in his room for the duration of the meltdown and tried to stay out of earshot (and tried to ignore the elephant sitting on my chest, and yes I'll be heading for a heart attack if I don't start coping better), I found a little note scrawled onto our chalkboard, "I Love You Mom." It's not that I did anything great, I just didn't get upset. That made all the difference. Normally, I would have wondered aloud why on earth he can do the work but just can't seem to turn the dang paper in... blah blah blah. But now he doesn't see me as the enemy—the one who is all disappointed and frustrated with him. He and the rest of the kids recognize that since I'm not stressed, it must be their problem, not mine.

The biggest revelation to me? Change is possible. Rob said to me, "I think I have an idea now how you've felt about my changes in the last two years. I watch you, and it's just not you." I hope it's the new me. But I'm still not out of the woods. A week longer for the first milestone. Wish me more than luck.