The Epiphany: How a simple quote changed me as a parent

I have recently had an epiphany. I can already tell this is going to be a novel. Consider yourself warned.

I am a mom of two little boys. One is almost 3 (WHAT??) and one is just over four months old. Let's rewind, though, for a moment to back when there was just the one.

Having a toddler is hard. Having a 100% independent, strong-willed, stubborn as all get-out toddler is HARD. Having that toddler but x10 is H.A.R.D. That's what I have. And if you think your kid is like that too, I promise you. Mine's worse. 

I digress. The point is that for the first year of his toddler-hood I was a grumpy mom. I have never been one to flat out yell but I raised my voice so much, sent the kid to time out so much, then sent him BACK to timeout when he'd come out before it was supposed to be over. My mothering life was, I'll be honest, miserable a lot of the time. I loved the kid, don't get me wrong, and there were plenty of sweet, good, happy moments, but that's all it felt like they were. Moments. 

Bedtime was always rushed, with the goal being getting the kid to bed as fast as possible.

Every time he talked back I overreacted.

Every time he made a mess I made a huge scene.

Time out was a daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence.

The day to day grind was sometimes almost unbearable. 

One night, the kid, the dad, and I had our worst night ever. From the moment the kid knew I was pregnant and knew something big was about to happen he decided to stop sleeping. On this particular night, we had sent him back to bed probably 15 times (I don't exaggerate) with much frustration and him in hysterics every time. Finally around 2 am we all just sat down and cried. We were frustrated, sleep deprived, angry, helpless. We couldn't understand why our once champion sleeper had turned into a literal nightmare.

Somehow everyone got through the night alive. 

The next day (NOT a coincidence) I happened upon a quote by President Thomas S. Monson

I had heard it before but this time it hit me like a ton of bricks. For the last several months, I had been doing exactly the opposite. Every mess made, every mistake made, I was more worried about the solution rather than stopping to think "through all of this, does my child feel loved?" I never stopped to think that this could be the simple solution to my problems. I was not doing anything for the right reasons. 

I'm sure if I was a child psychologist I would have figured this out much earlier.

This quote has changed. My. Life. It has changed my whole parenting "style" and attitude in general.  

We started making a bedtime a more relaxed process. It is our special time with him. We used to throw on pj's, brush teeth, sometimes sing a song if we were in a good enough mood. Now we always read scriptures, pj's and teeth brushed, a short story, personal prayer, a song and sometimes some silly tickling and always lots of hugs and kisses. If he doesn't know he's loved throughout the day, he sure knows it at bedtime. 

When he makes a mess or breaks something, he is disciplined with calm words, still timeouts when necessary, but hardly ever raised voices. We explain to him why what he did was wrong and I always ask if he understands. It is impressive how he reacts differently when I react differently. 

When he talks back, or whines, again, no yelling or raised voices. He is disciplined sternly but with obvious (I hope) love. 

It has been an ongoing process. I have not been perfect and I have slowly been getting better.

Yesterday, something amazing happened. I think I arrived. He broke one of my favorite bowls. He had climbed up after I asked him not to. I heard the crash, looked over, and saw a frozen, terrified looking two and a half year old and in a split second I had to make a decision. "Old me" would have freaked. But, something amazing happened. The quote flashed through my mind. I ran over to him. I could see the fear in his eyes as he thought I was going to roughly scoop him up and plop him in time out. Instead, I calmly asked him why he would do that after I asked him not to. His answer? 

"I don't know."

And you know what? I believed him. He didn't know. He genuinely didn't know why he did it. I can tell when he is being purposefully defiant (trust me, it happens all too often). This was not one of those times. Here was a little boy who couldn't control the impulse. Why? Because he's two years old. And sometimes two year olds simply can't control their impulses. 

I started crying. He looked confused and a bit amused. I cried because I wondered how many times I had angrily overreacted and made the situation ten times worse by my reaction. I wondered how many angry moments could have been loving teaching/learning moments instead. I felt so guilty and relieved at the same time. Like I had finally found the solution to my grumpy problem.

I have had a few of these "aha" moments, but this was definitely the biggest so far.

I am not a perfect parent. FAR from it.

I will still slip up. I sometimes still raise my voice. 

It is SO MUCH less often than it used to be. We are talking like, 90% better. I really do feel like it has been that significant. 

When he comes out of his room at night (we are still working on getting good sleep habits back), instead of creating a huge battle, I stop and think to myself, "is is really a big deal that he wants one more song, or one more hug? Or that he feels insecure and wants to know we are still there?"

The answer is yes, but not for the reasons I used to think. It's a big deal because if he comes out wanting an extra hug, he just wants to be reassured. He just needs that little extra affirmation. And you know what? I am never going to tell him "no you already got a hug so you need to go back to bed" ever again. He will get that hug. Because, for all I know, that's all he needed that day to feel secure. 

I have not become a pushover.

I still feel like I'm a lot more strict than many parents. Maybe too hard on him at times.

I still firmly believe that I need to teach my children right and wrong and I firmly believe they need to realize the consequences of their actions.

BUT. It is all done with LOVE in mind. 

Love doesn't mean letting kids get away with everything. It doesn't mean not disciplining. The difference lies in WHY we are doing what we are doing. Am I putting him in timeout because he didn't listen to me and he needs to know who is boss? A few months ago, maybe. But now it's because I love him and want him to be able to learn right from wrong. I love him and don't want him to go off into the world without knowing there are consequences to every action. 

It is possible. It is hard at first, as it's a total change of attitude and heart. It has taken me months to get to this point. But it's working and our home is filled with peace and happiness so much more often. 

Since these experiences, we have found a scripture that we have adopted as our "family motto" 

I absolutely love this. We must lead by example. If I yell, I can't expect him to not yell. If I overreact so will he. If I say "freaking bugs need to die," he will too (that was today's "oops" moment).

That was a lot of scattered thoughts and this feels sort of like word vomit. The bottom line is, having an attitude of love, having love being the bottom line, can change e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.