Mom Anger: Fighting that Urge

"I'm talking about something so frightening that no one ever brings it up, probably for fear someone will call her aloud what we all call ourselves at our most guilt-ridden and self-doubting: (a bad mom)." A Mom's Anger- Sometimes I Scare Myself, Does Anyone Else Get this mad?

So before I post about all the family creations we're making I must stop and deal with demon lady again. Creative play is helping, but I can't deny the flashes of real hatred that still stun me when things go awry. "Teaching our children and teenagers to handle anger is truly what I consider to be the most difficult part of parenting. First, it is most difficult because it does not come naturally... our natural tendency is to become more angry than the child," says D. Ross Campbell in How to Really Love Your Child Yep. All to naturally.
I don't know why I didn't see it quite this way before since it's so obvious now but this has become one of my truisms in this peace journey: I have to fight the urge to get drawn into conflict!! My kids, whether they realize it or not, are sparking me into battle with the Basic Scenario: I ask my child very nicely to put Object A in Location X (usually back in little brother's hand) and they scream "NO!!" and throw, dump or shatter a huge mess on the ground and/or pound something into someone's face. My eyes flash red as in an instant I know my kind gesture was basically met with the bird, I must soothe an innocent victim or dig out a magic eraser and get Cinderella-scrubbing, and after everything I do all day for those little stinkers they couldn't possibly appreciate me less! By then I've already given into the moment by yelling and dragging the offender to their room.
Anger is a part of this imperfect life; pressures are applied to us all resulting in kettle steam that must find a way out. What I didn't realize fully is that following directions and managing anger successfully are advanced skills that take a long time to mature- we're talking Age 17 as the Best Case Scenario. Some people take longer or never learn to manage anger. It's unreasonable to expect my kids to do anything much differently at this age and it's my job to carefully teach them how to manage anger, this means I need to model good anger management myself. (yikes!)
One of the things Campbell advocates for is "Neutral Face" which "will pay many dividends as the years come and go. The accumulation of mountains of needless anger provoked in your child will be avoided." The neutral face means being fully attentive, but pleasant, firm and calm in the face of a raging, out of control meltdown. I've often watched passerbys trying to tease a reaction out of a human statue or mime and are awed at how those people can really keep their cool down. Anytime I've tried to be a mime I really suck. I always smile, which is death to the NF. Campbell says smiling or laughing to ease the tension can make the child feel belittled and his concerns aren't being taken seriously. The purpose of NF is to stay in control of the moment.
I love NF. It's awesome. Getting angry leaves me feeling burned, and steering clear of a lash-out saves us all trouble and tears. Also when I get angry I look at my kids with a mean eye and my face turns all witchy, according to Campbell this fuels the flames and leaves kids feeling unloved. He believes it's crucial for kids to know they're loved even when they're being bad as part of a larger discipline strategy. So I think of NF as my gameface. When a mess or a shove shakes me out of nowhere I think "It's Gotime" and steel myself to appropriately manage my own anger and the overall situation calmly. Don't laugh, but it seriously feels like a superpower, one that is growing daily as I practice it.
In "Transforming the Difficult Child," Glasser and Easley also stress how important NF is in helping to never, ever get sucked into the fray. But unlike Campbell, who recommends gentle lectures after the storm passes, Glasser and Easley think those only work on The Cosby Show and Full House. They say after relaxing that deathgrip on my flippy little lid, the next step should avoid lectures because they don't work in real life with little children.
Obviously, NF isn't the only answer, and pitching lectures seems a bit harsh. What happens next is interesting... and I'll get to it soon. What would it be like to not flip my lid for a whole week- maybe a whole two weeks? Dare I dream? "Success can become second nature, like breathing, and can take over one's life as well... in expansive and healthy ways" say Glasser and Easley. I'm all for that.