I just yelled at my kids. I know we will all live. I didn't hit them or "smack" them or push or shove, and I only yelled once but I did it.
Descartes and I decided when we were first engaged that we would not yell in our home. I grew up with a family you could hear down the street. All passion and loud and then it was done, no hard feelings (mostly) Descartes grew up in a family where there was slow simmer for years, then someone would blow up into little pieces.
Somewhere along our dating way we got into an argument and I raised my voice, as I was taught to do, to make my point. He very calmly said "You don't need to yell at me. I will not participate in this conversation if you are yelling."
Well there is no better way to get me to be quiet, than to threaten me that you won't talk to me anymore. I am a talker... but it hit me then.. I actually didn't have to have a home where any one yelled. Ever. (emergencies excepted.. and since we rarely have a week without some sort of crisis, don't worry our house is till plenty noisy.)
But tonight I did. Lucy and Jake were whiny at 3:15, hungry and whiny, so in between throwing snacks at them I started to make dinner, as fast as I could. It was a quick meal, burgers (no buns), strawberries, bananas and home made sweet potato fries. Any whooo. they both rejected the meal, eating strawberries only. Then Jake got squirrelly in his chair and when I went to get something on the floor (his cup?) he smacked me in the head so hard my contact went to the back of my brain. Lucy stood up in her high chair to get out on her own .
I yelled. Not even sure what exactly I yelled.
Then I took them both out of their eating spaces and cleared the plates and said that was it.
then I took ten minutes to get my contact to the front of my head.
Mommy all done.