the DEMON is out

"Each child is an adventure into a better life - an opportunity to change the old pattern and make it new." Hubert Humphrey



Last week, I ordered fifty-three parenting books.
Caleb smashed my temple with a metal car when I was trying to get him to share with his brother and it hurt so much and I got so enraged... while nothing in particular happened, it just felt really, really ugly. This incident was not isolated, over the past few months a shrillness has crept into my voice with a frequency that wasn't there even six months ago.
When one of my children's wills butts up against my own and there's just the right mix of this and that on both sides- ah beware. They turn me into a crazy monster and afterwards make me wonder "Who was that person?" followed by a chilling "oh, I know her very well. She's my worst self. My Very. Worst. Self." Yes, she's my dark secret, like Mr. Rochester's ex-wife locked up in the attic. She doesn't get out that often, but when she does she Rages. She snarls, she snorts, her face contorts into scary, weird, grotesque expressions. She pulls her hair and gnashes her teeth. She throws things, she yells at people, she swears (does she ever have a sailor's mouth). She's a demon.
For obvious reasons, I find it very unsettling that the people I love the most, the sweetest, dearest, purest little precious children who giggle and laugh with me and make my heart burst with joy, they're the ones, yes, THEY'RE the culprits, that bring her out of me more frequently than anyone else in my adult life.
Also, these angelic creatures- THEY turn into slobbering, snarling demons too, even more then I do. Of course, this is to be expected. They're children, (er, right?) Recognize the little cherub cuddling with me earlier? Well, now he's hitting, biting and kicking me. And I'm not alone, this little quip from Ross Greene's "Explosive Child" made me feel better : "Amy's parents would ... inform her that a time-out was imminent. Amy would begin throwing things at her parents...would try to scratch and claw... spit on or bite or head-butt them. They would confine Amy to her room until she calmed down. Once locked in her room-when her parents were actually able to get her there- she would destroy anything she could get her hands on, including some of her favorite toys... including her mirror."
All because they asked her to brush her teeth. Yep. Just trying to keep her chompers from rotting out of her head.
Reading about Amy also showed me a glimpse of what may be as wills strengthen, patterns harden, life gets more complicated and stressful as responsibilities grow. I don't know if demon-lady or demon-child will ever be good-riddanced out of the attic, but I've decided there are some ways that I can batten the hatches a little better now, and in the future, so they can't get out. Too often.
Since my kids have developed from passive infants to children with a will all their own, my old tricks- hungry? bored? tired?- just don't work like they used to. The meltdowns seem to come as unbidden as rainfall and all I can do is watch, helplessly, as the storm unfurls on us both. But as I've read my stacks, it turns out I might be wrong. According to what I'm reading, they can be practically eliminated with the right tools in hand.
I've set a very bold goal to
ELIMINATE THE EXPLOSIONS.
When I first ordered all these parenting books and they started arriving faster than I could even open them, I wondered if I was over-reacting. The car smashing wasn't that bad, mild in the grand scheme of things. I have two sets of twins! Things are going to get hairy sometimes. But I've been learning sooo much it's kind of exciting. I've decided to post every other day about the big list of goals I've cooked up.
More next time...