When I Realized What I Was Really Feeling
Last week, we had spring break. Which began with an epic snowstorm. It took all 6 of us over 2 hours to shovel our driveway. It was a lot of snow!
We had fun in the snow, and I tried to embrace the benefits of not having lots of places we had to go. We spent a few hours swimming at an indoor pool one of the days and enjoyed that. But honestly, I was also struggling that we were all home, again, for the millionth time, without a schedule and with lots of limitations (covid and the snowstorm) on what we could really do outside the house. On Wednesday, I woke up excited that it was “weekly job day” and that everyone would be spending an hour or so tidying up and cleaning. I had a utopian vision of everyone working from 10-11am, and of the lovely, clean house we would have at the end. But of course, real life turned out differently. Unexpected needs came up that we had to attend to, and my hour of everyone working got sabotaged.
I handled it really well…until I didn’t. You know those days, right? Here’s how it went:
When we finally get back to working, I ask everyone to please hang up whatever snow clothes belong to them and also put away their wet clothes and towels from swimming the day before. Eventually I go out to the car and find my daughter’s swimming bag sitting in the back. The one I had asked her to put away yesterday, and asked again about this morning. I feel the anger begin to rise, and the thoughts that fueled more anger.
“Why don’t my kids listen to me?” (cognitive distortion: generalization)
“Why don’t people ever do what I ask them to?” (cognitive distortion: black and white thinking)
On my way into the house with the wet bag, I feel myself close the laundry room door a lot harder than I need to. I bring the bag in and place it at the bottom of the stairs, like evidence to convict a felon.
“Alexa, stop the music!” I command.
“Hey Trevva! I call up the stairs. You know the bag you told me you put away? I just found it in the car.”
A “discussion” ensues, about wet towels and swimsuits and being dishonest and I get bossy and demanding and the whole thing ends with Trevva stomping upstairs, and me stomping around downstairs trying to distract myself by tidying up. I know that my tirade is not the spirit I want to fill my home with. I sense that I spoke more harshly, got more angry than I wanted to. This is not how I want to show up as a mom. So, I take a few deep breaths and become my own coach. I step outside of my own thoughts and observe from the outside. I don’t judge or label myself. I don’t say, “Emily, you are a terrible mother. You totally blew it. You are a complete failure. You are always messing up.”
Instead, I ask myself a few simple questions:
Emily, what is really going on for you right now?
2. What are the real emotions behind the anger?
3. What are the thoughts that are leading to these feelings?
After a few minutes of contemplation, I realize:
Oh, I’m feeling out of control. Because of the pandemic. Because of the snowstorm. So I’m flailing around trying to control things. I’m angry because I feel like I should at least be able to control my own kids and my own house. But of course, I actually can’t. My impulse to try to control things that I can’t control leaves me feeling powerless, which results in frustration. That comes out as anger at my daughter.
I manage a small chuckle because I have learned this lesson before. Lots of times. I can’t control other people and when I try to, it always ends in frustration. Every. Single. Time. I smile and give myself permission to still be working on learning this concept. I remind myself that adults aren’t “supposed” to have everything figured out. We get to make mistakes and grow and change, just like kids. Then I decide that it’s time to apologize. Right now. (Something I CAN control. The most important thing to focus on doing). I take a deep breath and calmly walk upstairs. I ask Trevva, Tyler, and Jacob, to come sit with me on my bed. I put my arm around Trevva and gently say:
“Trevva, I’m sorry I yelled at you. (Long pause). I’m feeling like there are so many things I can’t control right now. This isn’t really the spring break I wanted for us, having it be snowy and cold. I’m sad that so many of the things that make life meaningful and exciting are still not part of our lives.”
I start to cry.
“I miss having friends. I miss having things on my calendar. I miss being able to plan ahead and have control over some things. I thought I could control getting the house clean today. But even that, I couldn’t make go the way I wanted it to. I’m not mad at YOU, Trevva. It’s just hard for me to let go of not being able to control other things. You guys are the last people I want to be yelling at, because what we have right now—pretty much ALL we have right now— is each other.”
Trevva leans in and gives me a big hug, and Jacob scoots closer to me on my bed so he can too. He acknowledges how COVID has been really hard on all of us in different ways. We take turns sharing some of our hardest moments over the last year, and our biggest disappointments. More hugs. More tears, and a complete shift in the feeling in our home. For the next hour, as Trevva works on her chores, she comes and finds me several times just to give me a spontaneous hug. I sense her pure, deep, forgiveness, and her desire to love and encourage me.
And I feel joy.
Not a shallow happiness because everything is perfect and lovely and easy—but a profound gratitude for my children. For the growth we have experienced as we have navigated this last year. For the influence of the Holy Spirit, who gently nudged me to gather my children and apologize. For the choice I have—every day, every moment, to choose new thoughts. To find out what is going on inside of me and write a new story. I take a few minutes to write down a prayer:
“Lord, fill me with better thoughts. Release my resentment and frustration and self-pity. Fill me with love, and patience, and temperance, and long-suffering. Help me to be kind. Help me to accept life as it is. Help me focus on the good, and make today a fresh start.”
Wanna have a few private coaching sessions with me so you can find out the root of your frustrations, and learn to coach yourself through them?
I’m Emily Ricks. I help people transform their thinking so they can feel more joy. As a Certified Professional Life Coach, I work with women who want to reduce feelings of stress, guilt, inadequacy, worry, and overwhelm. I help them separate facts from feelings, examine the underlying beliefs that are causing emotional distress, and see their lives through the lens of God’s Word, so they can fill their homes with joy.