I yelled at my youngest son yesterday morning. Not once. Repeatedly. For at least a few minutes. Even while he cried.
We were already running late to leave for school when we remembered that his outdoor shoes were torn on the bottom and he couldn’t wear them anymore. So I go to pull out another pair of runners for him, but he wanted no part of them. So we go to get a pair that was on his ‘okay to wear list’ (cause you know, he’s four).
….Of course my panic sets in as I watch the clock tick away and we get closer and closer to the minute that the bell is going to ring.
So I did what frustrated, panicked and anxious moms do. Or at least what I do. I yelled. I yelled to hurry up. I yelled that he needs to go faster. I yelled that he should be wearing other shoes because he was having a hard time. I was huffing and puffing and pacing around, likely making him more upset.Read More
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