Yesterday morning we were getting ready to head out to run errands & Luke was still watching a show. I asked him to shut it off & he did - right away. He listened & everything was fine. Not even a millisecond after the show was off, he asked me a question about the show. I’ve never seen this show as it was also his first time watching it & I told him I didn’t know. He lost it. I mean full blown freaking out because I didn’t have the answer he was looking for. It was as if I’d told him that Santa was dead. I then tried to shift gears & asked him to go potty before we left. He slammed his feet on the ground & yelled, “I ALREADY WENT!”
I came u n g l u e d.
I’m talking crazy person off the rails. I screamed at him to go to his room. I had had my last & final moment of being talked to like that (and it was only 10am). He ran to his room & I slammed the door. (Again, clearly off my rocker.) I was so insanely mad that he, for the bajillionth time believed he could talk to me in this way & get away with it. The moment the door slammed closed was the moment that my emotional door exploded open in a fit of tears and mania. I was hysteric because I knew what I had done... or rather what I had done wrong. I wasn’t helping the situation or teaching him a lesson - I was laying cracked foundation for him to think that that is how we behave when we are mad. I was communicating that Daniel Tiger’s method of breathing & counting to 4 is not the best form of deescalation and that what “works” is a complete and total explosion. I was that mom...
I went back & opened the door where he and I both stood on opposite ends of the doorway sobbing. Both for obvious reasons, and then, I imagine, for some less than obvious reasons. It was in this moment that neither of us knew quite what to do that my 4 year old said, “Let’s call daddy.” So we did. Through incessant tears and sobs we retold the story of the explosion. We explained what had happened & I confessed my guilt & shame directly to my husband, in front of our son & before the Father. I knew what I had done. I knew that it was wrong. And I knew that I needed to be transparent about my mistakes.
My dear husband, bless his patient heart, allowed both of us to haphazardly share our woes as he was up to his neck in work. He then reminded Luke of the way we are to treat our parents and made it clear that treating me the way he had was unacceptable. He then shifted the attention to me, weepy and exhausted with emotion me who felt like she deserved reprimanding & punishment.
“You know that you are a good mom & that these things are going to happen.”
I’m sorry... what? I lost my position as “good mom” the moment I screamed at our son. “These things are going to happen”... to other people. Not me.
He went on to remind me of the various times that he has made the same errors in judgment and that I still tell him he is a good dad despite them. After he said that I immediately thought, “Well that’s because you are! We’re all human & make mistakes.”
Oh... Right.
This is not the first (hence the build up...) and will not be the last time my son talks to me like I’m insignificant and not worthy of respect. Yet, this morning felt bigger. Granted I’m also quite pregnant - so there is probably some sort of excuse in there entangled in my hormones. But that isn’t the point - the point is that I didn’t behave the way I wished I would have. I spoke to our son in the same way that he was speaking to me. What’s the quote here...? Ah yes, “two wrongs never make a right.” I was furious with him screaming at me & stomping his feet, so my go to remedy was to... scream & stomp my feet...
My explosive response to our son wasn’t appropriate and for that I have apologized to him numerous times, asking that he forgive my mistakes. His response, filled with grace was, “Aw, that’s sweet mama. Thank you.” While I would have preferred to not have this happen at all, I am grateful that it did. It was a lesson for all of us in the ways that we shouldn’t handle these situations. Furthermore, it was a combined lesson of brokenness, grace & forgiveness.
My brokenness is something I will forever experience and deal with. I am not now, nor will I ever be, flawless. I will make mistakes, lose my way, and fall. It is inevitable as sin runs rampant within me & the world as a whole.
But in this, there was grace to be received. And there was grace to be given. My husband had every opportunity to condemn me for such a lapse in judgement. It wasn’t my son I was mistreating it was our son. He had every right to express discontent for my behavior and yet took the opportunity to respond with grace. Not only for me in that moment, but for himself in the moments that his own brokenness has presented itself. It was a reminder that despite our every effort & every attempt at perfection, we will never be able to attain such a thing. He reminded me of grace & extended a loving hand (through the phone, haha!) to help me back up as I sat broken on the ground.
Forgiveness is more often difficult and confusing to me. I find myself struggling to know how to do it or why to do it, feeling some sense of entitlement to withhold forgiveness from those that have wronged me. And yet, in the midst of the chaos, forgiveness was bursting through our household easily and without barrier. My husband’s extension of grace & love were eloquent examples of forgiveness - forgiveness that we cannot earn, yet have freely. My son’s ability to cry with me, to apologize, and to wrap his arms around my heart were brilliant examples of the grace & forgiveness that exudes from his small body. And my willingness to be open, honest, raw, and transparent about my missteps, while also embracing our son in love - free from grudges or resentment was how I gracefully shared in the forgiveness.
While I still feel embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior, I find such peace in the way that our sweet family team handled everything. We are far from perfect; forever broken and lacking. Yet, with grace, love, and forgiveness there were lessons to be learned. Within these lessons there was healing to be had & growth to experience. I am honored to have the chance to go through these various trials, especially as we get closer to adding Team Yearley’s newest teammate to the roster!
However this resonates with you, know that there will forever be mistakes. The real evolution is how we handle these mistakes. I pray that you are able to find grace and forgiveness within the brokenness. That healing & growth meet you in the dark and illuminate the beauty of life surrounding us. You are not alone.
Xx,
Mama Yearley
Note: Reposted from my previous blog.
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