Temper, Temper

There was once a news story here about a little girl who fell out of their high storey flat. She survived but was in coma for a long time. The story warned on leaving doors and windows closed and locked when kids are around when the living space is a tall building to avoid such events. But the story became a big sensation when the little girl woke from coma and began telling her version of the story. She started by blaming her mom. It turned out that the mother, who was all the while crying and steadfastly sitting beside her unconscious daughter's bedside, was the one who caused the accident. The mom wanted the little girl to take a nap. When the little girl refused, the mom, in full temper -- threw her out of the window! The mom had to answer to the the case filed against her.

I mean, who have not thought of doing something so extreme when the kids just wont stop their tantrums? But to harm the kids to that point, hmm! I admit, when my temper gets the better of me, I go exploding, too.

Oh, I try to control the full wrath of my temper, and most of the time, I am successful. There are a lot of ways to do that. Number one, I count to ten. Simply to give me time to calm down. Number two, I do breathing exercises. This is really effective and it fills my brain with a breath of fresh air; thus removing my hot air. Number three, I pray. Just repeating well known memorized prayers help me turn off my temper.

And number four, (and this is what I do when I am near the bursting point,) I give the kids a warning that the mama would need to take a break. And when they still continue pushing my alarm button, then I try to leave the room to calm myself. I either talk a short walk or lock myself up in the bedroom.

The thing is, when I succumed with number four, that is when I am ready to do damage. As in, teeth gnashing, fists clenching, eyes bulging, hair pulling, skin turning green (oops, exag!!) -- grrrr! Or I might already have thrown something or my palm might have been itching to spank. Thus, I prefer to leave before anymore damage, mostly to me, is done. (The damage would be guilt, guilt, guilt - bad mama, bad mama, bad mama - burn - burn- burn.)

Me leaving would cause to fuel the kids' temper. It would result to screaming fits and scrambling feet, wanting to be with mama. But I dont care, as long I am not yet in full possession of myself, I would rather stay out.

It would take me at least 10-15 minutes to really calm down. By then, the kids would already be calmed down by their papa, and when papa is not available, they would be cuddling together in silence and waiting. When I am ready, then it is also time to sit down and talk. We would go back to what happened - the why's, the what's, the who's. We would try to reconstruct the events and explain why it's not good to hurt or why it is not bad to share; and proceed to mend the pain by admitting our faults (I always admit that I'm also at fault when I take off like that but that because I dont want to cause pain), and not just by saying sorry but by a moment of silence together, simply hugging.

The 'I love you's' thrown within our closed circle erase the sting of these unfavorable events -- these words, said in utmost sincerity, are the real healers.