I believe in kindness. I really do. I try to choose kindness whenever I have a choice…
But I often fail. I am human.
Tonight I was a mean parent.
Anna would not take a nap today although she was obviously tired.
I yelled out of frustration and anger and begged God to give me a break. I couldn’t handle this. While she cried and kicked and screamed, I felt like I could kick her or run away or scream in her face. Then I stubbed my toe on a step stool. That was it. I freaked out and started crying and yelling. Anna was startled and instantly quieted down. And I instantly felt terribly for what I had done.
Finally, while nursing one nipple and scratching/pulling/twisting/picking on the other nipple, Anna fell asleep. Relief washed over me, and I felt in love again.
I learned about “sleep talking” the other day during a phone counseling session with one of my favorite people, Jan Hunt. I will sleep talk to Anna tonight to apologize for being a mean mom. I will tell her that I love her, that it is not her fault, and that she deserves better. I will do better tomorrow.
Yesterday I was thinking about being a seed of change. Today I am thinking about how a seed of change cannot achieve perfection, even if it wants to. It can only strive for being its best self. Nature is flawed and messy. And I love that.
One of the reasons I quit Facebook a while back was that I became very disturbed by some of the things that people said on there. I also felt scrutinized for what I said and suddenly felt afraid of revealing myself in such a public forum–to hundreds of people whom I hardly knew and certainly did not trust. I often felt judged and attacked for my unusual beliefs and choices, and that was hard for me. I don’t do well with criticism.
When I took my break from Facebook, I had a lot of time to center myself and think about things. During my hiatus, I realized that I didn’t want to lose connections to some of my Facebook friends. I missed them. So I joined again and chose my friends carefully–this time, just the ones I trusted and felt good about having in my circle. There are still a few in there who would criticize my beliefs and choices, but I care enough about them to keep them…for now, at least.
Unfortunately, now Facebook shows me conversations that occur outside of my “friends” circle. I can see other conversations, but I cannot comment on them. I can also be a part of conversations on my friends’ pages that involve people who are not my friends. This happened the other day, and I again found myself feeling overwhelmed and deeply disturbed by the hostility of some people.
And these particular people are people whom I know. They are a part of my faith community. They believe in and defend their meanness with pride. They encourage parents to belittle, punish, and name-call their kids. In other words, they are bullies. At the same time, they confess to have the same love and faith in their hearts as I have in mine. It is so confusing to me. I do not understand them, and I don’t understand how those things can coexist within the same heart.
So I wrote my two cents in the comment thread and left it behind. I told myself it was not my place to judge, thank goodness, and that I can only take care of what is in my own heart. Then I wrote this post and went to bed.
And then tonight I was a mean parent myself, so I can humbly say that none of us are perfect–and most certainly not me. And I sort of felt like an idiot for being a spokesperson for kindness. As if I am qualified for that.
We are all mean sometimes.
I used to feel like I had to be careful about what I wrote on this blog, but as of today I no longer care to do that. I don’t have the energy for censorship. Censorship requires such restraint and I am bursting at the seams.
From now on I am posting what pleases me, and nothing less. It might please whomever reads it and it might not. From now on, I care mainly about being true to myself and the people I share my house with. This is my blog and I love writing in it. It lets me remember things that are important to me. It lets me get thoughts out of my head so that I can sleep.