Dealing with tantrums

Books are scattered across the living room floor. Somehow, in the 2 minutes I was in the bathroom, they had gotten the bookcase open and nearly emptied it out! "NOOOO!" I noticed my favorite book, one my grandmother had given me, The Secret Garden, lying open on the floor with a page half torn. At my feet was DH's Dune Messiah with the front cover torn off. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit something, and I wanted to run away. What did I do? What any sane, rational person would do, of course! I found the nearest empty receptacle (a toy bin, of course) and started throwing books into it as fast as I could, with no regard for the books, children, or other innocent bystanders. I knew that the boys could empty the bookcase faster than I could fill it, so I scrambled around with the books looking for a "safe" place. While looking for an empty high shelf, a dog got underfoot, tripped me, and I bumped into DS, knocking him to the floor. "NO, dog! Not now!" To my crying DS, "You're okay. Here. Have some milk. Here's a boo-boo-duck." After placing the sippy and the cold pack in his hands, I turn away from him so I can deal with the dog. "How many times do you have to go out in one day?! Fine. Fine. Out! I'll let you back in at bedtime. I said, 'OUT,' dog!!" I slam the door, brush past DS, throw the book bin on my bed, and sit on the floor. I can't handle this. I'm a horrible mother. I was so upset about the books that I blew up at the kids, at the dogs, ignored their needs, and proved to be a horrible example. Sure, I didn't use any language that was improper, but my tone of voice, my attitude, and my actions were far from agreeable. I could have damaged the books even more throwing them about like that. I probably hurt DS's feelings by ignoring him when I hurt him, even if it was an accident. I was ready to get rid of the dog just because she asked to go out at the wrong time. What else can I do to mess things up? Then I go back out to prepare for the next battle.

An incident this morning got me thinking. As adults, we don't have the throw-yourself-on-the-floor, scream, kick, and threaten-to-hold-your-breath kind of tantrums. But we still have tantrums. Our human nature tends to take over in times of stress if we allow it. We need to seek out God's peace in order to face difficult situations with wisdom and dignity. Whenever my children are exhibiting signs of stress, or going into temper-mode, I have them go to timeout. I tell them they are there to calm down, and as soon as they're calm and ready to play nice, they can get up and go back to playing. Why don't I do that myself? Why, as adults, do we put higher expectations on our kids than we do on our own selves? We all need a chance to calm down. Instead of hiding in the bedroom or resting my head on the kitchen counter top as I await the next crisis, I could put myself in time out to calm down and perhaps avert the next crisis! In addition to a more positive outlook, I would have provided my children a positive example of behavior and attitude in times of frustration. How much different... how much better would my perspective be if I were willing to put myself in time out? Hmm. How weird would it be to add "Put myself in time out" to my weekly To-Do list?

Books are scattered across the living room floor. Somehow, in the 2 minutes I was in the bathroom, they had gotten the bookcase open and nearly emptied it out! "NOOOO!" I notice my favorite book, one my grandmother had given me, The Secret Garden, lying open on the floor with a page half torn. At my feet was DH's Dune Messiah with the front cover torn off. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to hit something, and I want to run away. What do I do? Set a good example, of course! I gather the boys and herd them upstairs. "It's time to play puzzles!" As they dump pieces onto the floor, I sit in the hallway and pray for peace, wisdom, and understanding. I pray for my children, that they would know that I love them no matter what. I pray for DH to have a good day at work so he's in a good mood when he finds out his book is now missing the cover. DS comes over and asks why I'm not playing, and I say, "I need to calm down in time out. Mama was really sad, so I'm sitting in time out to pray. I'll come play in just a few minutes after I'm calm and happy. You go play with your brother." After a few more moments, I go in and start playing with them. After a few minutes, the dogs start barking to go out. We all head back downstairs. Younger DS helps direct the dogs out the door while older DS gets their food ready. Once the dogs are back in, we all sit on the couch. I explain that I'm sad that some of my books are broken, and daddy will be sad to find his books broken. I suggest we try to clean them up and see which ones we can fix. With help, the boys fill the nearest empty recepticle (a toy bin, of course) with the unharmed books. The "broken" books go up on the bookshelf so that I can do the repairs once the boys are in bed. We move to the kitchen table so the boys can color. I stand in the doorway watching them, thinking about what a blessing they are to me.