rage

by

Begin Again

There is a voice inside me. It varies in volume but is ever constant. This voice is reminding me that I am on a journey. I am not done. I am not only who I was, but so much more I have forgotten and not yet discovered. 

Begin Again.

This is something I hear from deep within my body. my heart, my mind, my soul. When I hear these words I can become so powerful if I give myself the moment to say them out loud to myself. Honor these words and magic happens.

Begin Again. 

I drop the heavy load of guilt, shame, and judgement. I release the joy and pleasure into the universe. I make a contract with myself that there is no one beginning and no single end. 

Begin Again. 

I am vulnerable and meek. I am quiet and cautious. I am observing the world and all its power. I am taking notes. I  study the grace and strength of all around me. I take a pause with rage and anger. I am gentle and loving. I am pensive and full. 

Begin Again.

I am vibrating and steaming and boiling to the top. I can hear nothing but the sound of my own emotions. I spin with the force of generations of earth, wind, and fire. I am infinite in my powerful rage and fervor. I shake the core of my own existence with an outward tsunami of love and raw emotion. I am unstoppable until I am done and empty.

Begin Again. 

this voice can purify me. It can subdue me. It has the ability to motivate me to move mountains. If I listen and repeat, anything is possible. It is all inside waiting for me to breathe and release the transformative power. It is in me. I breathe. I believe. 

Begin Again. 

 

by

feeling kind of seasick

**This was drafted Nov. 2 during a temper tantrum. I didn’t post then, but shall do so now.

As a mom and an educator, I have been diligent to read and discuss the temperaments of children especially during crucial times in their development. No matter how much I read or talk about with other people I am ill equipped to handle and process the mood swings and extremes of my toddler’s temper tantrums. I am powerless. I am weak. I am shattered. I am a puddle begging for mercy.

Her first real “scream at me for no apparent reason for two hours” tantrum came the first week of September 2013. I know this because I took a photograph and a short video. Not because I intend to tease her with it later in life, but because I was so taken aback by her behavior and didn’t know what was happening. I was alone – my husband was working and it seemed to materialize out of nowhere. It was irrational and upsetting. Yet, it was done in two hours completely and didn’t visit us again for many months. The first tantrum was about an ice Lollie, or the color of one I should say. It was mental…so I thought then.

Months later we saw the next surge of difficult behavior. My daughter is very strong willed and stubborn. I want so much to love and embrace this but it can be difficult because she has officially decided to have her own view on the world that many times clashes with our schedule. I accept her as her own spirit, her own person. I try my best not to be unrealistic in what I ask of her while she navigates this journey. But I might be going crazy in the process.

This summer we had a lot of travel plans. In hindsight, not a good idea. However, the predictable thing about toddler’s rage is it is unpredictable. We had no idea she would hit the “terrible twos/threes” while on summer vacation. She had brief moments of power struggles and time outs. But this summer she began to unleash the beast.

I am currently sitting on the sofa trying to hold it together. My daughter is in the other room throwing a fit of epic proportion. I am alone. My husband is working and I am exhausted. She is dismantling the last stronghold of sanity I have. I am in tears and broken hearted. It is excrusiating for a mother to watch their child loose their temper, be in pain, struggle with their emotions. Today if my daughter is not trying to fling herself out of her crib, she is trying to climb back in. During all of this, she yells like a banshee. Normally when she is upset, she needs me and only me. However, with this recent wave of outburts, no one can comfort her. We have to surf the tidal wave of toddler terror.

We have seen her pull her hair out, throw toys, books – anything she can grab. We have witnessed her scream, drool and spit like a scene from the exorcist. She hits, kicks and bites. It is madness. On more than one occasion I find myself terrorfied that she is mentally ill. There is NO way that this can be age appropriate or normal. Yet I try to get direction and solace from blogs and medical journals that all say – yup, welcome to the club. We are parents of Toddlers and there is no sanity till maybe the age of 4 or 5. Seriously?! Can I make it? We have another child growing inside of me and I am overcome with fear of the alliance that will be made against me and their father.