Shout It Out

It is a difficult thing to admit in the calm tranquil space of this blog, but I am a yeller. I get excited, I talk louder. I get angry, frustrated, scared, anxious and I yell. It is one of the things I dislike, HATE, most about myself. I know it is one of the things my husband most wishes he could change about me. I am terrified it is going to be what my son remembers most about his childhood- his mom yelling. I get it honestly, I come from a family of yellers and boy are they good at it. Disagreements are frequent and at full decibel and they always made me want to run and hide. They still do, which is why when I open my mouth and the black noise of chaos and anger comes rushing out like a rabid dog, I am instantly ashamed. Guess what I do when I feel ashamed? I yell.

We have the board book "My Many Colored Days" by Dr. Seuss which I have read often to the boy in hopes of instilling the idea that emotions are not scary, but a normal expression of how each of us feels every day. A self-serving perspective of "it's okay if mommy's mad" wrapped up in a catchy rhyme with cool illustrations. But is it okay? Stuffing your feelings is never a good idea but the screaming and yelling- it can be pretty scary stuff. There has to be a middle ground.

I suppose these are the real questions. What am I so angry about that the slightest things send me into a fit of vocal rage? What lies beneath the surface that ignites the fire of everyday frustrations fueling the flames into a five alarm blaze? Why are women and moms so angry?

I named this space "mommapractice" because I believe it is, all of it, a practice. Each day is an opportunity to make a choice, do things differently, re-examine what works, what doesn't. Each day we also carry the regrets, resentments and guilts of yesterday and I suppose that is what is beneath the surface. Today could be a balance of yesterday and tomorrow and perhaps that is the purpose of being present in the moment. I know I can breathe through the anger and the moment(s) will pass. It is the PRACTICE of the breath, the connection to it that is difficult for me, maybe for all of us. I will keep trying, practicing, and making mistakes and hopefully yelling about it less along the way.