These Trucks - Read to Feel Better!

Oh my goodness half of me wants to throw them away and the other half might keep them forever. Here's why...

My son got these years ago and we decided to make them in the holidays. He mixed the plaster of Paris, put them in the mould, tapped the bubbles out, they set, we took them out - that was fun and the powder, liquid, solid bit was educational too. So far so good..

Then the painting began and my son went out of the lines and got cross. He puts pressure on himself to do things perfectly and is extremely hard on himself when things he does aren't perfect.  It’s a trigger for me and the old pattern used to be this… He’d make a mistake, get cross, shout at himself, call himself names (like idiot) and give up. I’d argue to prove him wrong, telling him that he is NOT an idiot or stupid, I’d try to convince him, I’d tell him he can’t do it yet, I’d tell him practice makes perfect, I’d use my very best persuasive techniques. He would stand his ground, heels digging in, arguing his corner. I’d get cross, usually end up saying something unhelpful and stomp off.  Guilt invariably followed

After much self-analysis I figured out what was causing all this and was able to find a new more useful pattern. I learnt to see and understand what was going on and the assumptions I was making about his behaviour and mine. Most of the time now I am calm not only outwardly but inwardly too. I am able to listen to him without attaching any disastrous outcomes to what he is saying. Most of the time

But not this time, this time I felt the frustration, irritation and anger rising and yelled something along the lines of 'Oh for goodness sake, if you’re not going to bother trying, just give up then!' He stormed to his room, I opened the front door and threw those little trucks as hard as I could down the front path into the road. I then slammed the door closed to see my older daughter's somewhat alarmed face.

That’s the bit I'm not so proud of, but then I remembered I could do better. I opened the door and stomped out to gather up those little trucks (which amazingly survived!) and marched up to my son's room. I was still cross but didn't want to shout so I took a deep breath (a learned and practised pause button) and said ‘I am so mad!’ He started to interrupt so I said ‘Please don’t interrupt me, you can speak when I’m done but here’s why I’m so cross…’ I then told him why I find it hard and upsetting when he doesn’t give himself a chance, when he calls himself useless and when he allows little mistakes to stop him from doing something he enjoys. I told him that sitting painting with him made me really happy and I just wanted him to enjoy it too, that making things was about the process not the perfect result. I told him that I can never see him as any of the things he calls himself and all I want to do when he does that is argue with him. I told him when I get upset I often get cross instead of just being upset’

In short I gave him enough of a stream of consciousness to help me calm down a bit. I then said ‘So that’s why I was mad, I’m not mad now, I hope you can forgive me for being cross and telling you to give up – that wasn’t a kind thing to say and I’m sorry.’

Then I gave him a kiss, said ‘Your turn.’ and listened.

I didn’t try and solve any of his problems, I didn’t argue when he said he was rubbish at painting, I didn’t defend myself or let guilt block my ears when he said I’d upset him, I just listened, knowing from experience that it’s often the best solution. I watched his thinking and I was interested to see how quickly (like me) he was able to calm down and gain perspective once he was able to externalise his emotions.

Then I asked him what he wanted to do now. ‘Finish painting my truck.’ He said. ‘Oh ok!’ I said with surprise, ‘Are you sure? We could play a bit of football instead or something?’ ‘Nope, let’s paint.’ ‘Yay’ I said, marvelling once again at the power of sharing my emotions and thought processes with my kids and of course, the power of listening.

We went downstairs again to my daughter who had carried on painting. She looked up and said ‘You were scary mummy!’ I gave her a hug and said sorry. ‘Phew you’re not scary anymore.’ she said and we laughed.

So THESE TRUCKS - A token of my parenting – the worst and the best.

I hope that by sharing this you are empowered to see that even when we know what’s best and know what we want to do, we still don’t always manage to do it, but that there is always the next choice and the next path. We don’t need to sit with guilt and regret, we just need to make the next best choice. When we have a firm eye on what really matters and a good understanding of ourselves, the choice we make will be the right one and the path we take will take us closer to what we want to accomplish as a parent - guilt-free!