I was not an easy mother: edgy, unbalanced, sometimes harsh (you may call it demanding or with high expectations). I wake up in the morning, lying there all soft and positive in my half-asleep state. But then the day hits: getting ready, responsibilities, work, bills.
“Tea, Mum?” my son asks, noticing my tired, tense face. “Mmm-hmm,” mutters the most understanding and loving being—me, who also happens to be a kindergarten teacher.
“Why is the backpack in the hallway? Didn’t you take out the bins again?” My voice sharpens, and irritation creeps in. It’s easy to understand and excuse it with fatigue, but deep down, I know that getting angry at my child is wrong and unprofessional.
Feeling anger toward a child, especially a small one, is something many of us try to hide from others. But anger is tricky; it’s hard to conceal.
The Beginning of Madness
I don’t remember being angry with my baby when he was born. I expected him and loved him with all my heart. There was fatigue, mild irritation from the enormous responsibility of constantly watching over a tiny being (even though with love and admiration). But when I first angrily tried to smack my boy for “arguing and talking back,” I felt terribly ashamed. I sat on the floor and cried. Cicero wasn’t wrong when he said that anger is the beginning of madness.
All the parenting books, common sense, yoga classes—none of it stopped me from acting violently. Another time, seeing the mess in my child’s room, I felt a surge of overwhelming, suffocating anger and punched the wall. My hand went numb, and my child stared at me in surprise. He also told me never yell at him again. He was a strong minded child, who was assertive (a blessing in disguise). This was the start of my long battle with explosive irritation. I tried throwing clothes, non-breakable objects, pacing frantically to release the energy, or just running out of the house with clenched fists. After these outbursts, I usually felt relief: a burning hot flash, an explosion, followed by complete emptiness.
And Anger Will Subside…
The great Greek philosopher Pythagoras advised against speaking or acting in a fit of anger. But anyone familiar with this emotion knows that controlling anger is a feat for the few. It’s like trying to stop a speeding train or put out a fire.
Children disobey, fight, break things, whine, steal, and do all sorts of things. One of my preschoolers, at four years old, had so much aggression that it could fill 50 people. This little child had so much suppressed anger (lack of self-regulation), he used to throws boots, hit and kick other children, grabntheir toys, and swear. I’m not sure if his parents manage to stay calm, but I certainly got irirated at him, while understanding the stages of emotional development and trauma-informed care. We are humans, it may be challenging to witness behaviour of concern and feel a litlle lost at how to help the child and how to protect other children. I talked to him about boundaries and consequences, but at times, I had to withdraw and ask someone else to intervene.
Anger management for educators
Months of learning to manage my anger taught me the first lesson: it’s wrong to be angry at myself for getting angry. Kicked the Lego box? Well done, now sit quietly and clean up, but don’t get angry at yourself for the outburst. Anger for getting angry is like adding fuel to the fire.
The first step to recovery was weekly active meditations. It provided a good release for emotions, and the anger outbursts became less intense. These meditations helped me uncover the internal reasons for my anger and partly removed the fiery explosions.
Healing the Poison
I viewed my anger as a poison that was ruining my relationship with my child. And I must admit, my child is wonderful: loving, attentive, loving, joyful, and positive. The consequences of this poison needed to be addressed for both of us.
If I snapped and yelled at him over something, even if it was significant, I would apologise and explain that I was wrong. I shouldn’t have raised my voice; everything could have been said kindly and patiently. I would ask for his forgiveness. Another helpful strategy was warnings: “Son, Mum is in a bad mood today because of X, Y, and Z, and I’m struggling to manage my emotions.” This way, he understands that my anger isn’t directed at him or caused by him.
By identifying the triggers for my rage (fatigue, lack of sleep, overwork), I started swimming, going to the sauna, getting massages, and taking more trips to the shops or bike rides. It turned out that after such therapy and a good night’s sleep, I was a much better mum—rounder, softer, more affectionate, and without sharp edges. When feeling fulfilled, it was easier not to lose my temper, and when anger began to rise, it was easier to tell myself, “Enough!”
Catching Thoughts
In the final stage of taming my anger, I began to notice my thoughts during these moments of rage and think about where they might lead. If I explode as usual, will it help me be the mother I truly want to be? If I call him lazy and idle, will that help him improve? NO.
One day it clicked. I walked into my child’s room and saw clothes scattered all over the floor. I remembered asking him to hang up the clean laundry—precisely and clearly where and how. But then I smiled, remembering that my son is on holiday. I laughed at his carelessness, and still smiling, I quickly tidied up the room.
