My son stood beside the window of my bedroom. He drew some imaginary animals with his fingers before climbing the bed beside me. I immediately knew he had something to say. He has a way of speaking without uttering a word.

“Mummy, you were a little grumpy this morning, yesterday and the day after and some days before then”. He said avoiding a direct gaze.

I thought for a few seconds before replying ” Really?”, pretending I wasn’t aware of that fact. I wasn’t just grumpy, I had been raving mad. Angry about everything. I knew it, but listening to this young man actually called my attention to me.

The Reason Behind My Madness.

As you know, parenting could be hard to fathom out sometimes, but for me, I have been struggling to come to terms with this truth. My children are not toddlers any longer. I expected some level of maturity. I have a teenager, a pre-teen and an eight-year-old. However, the challenges are as tasking as ever.

I stormed to the living room earlier demanding why the cushions were everywhere except where they should be. I was fuming with anger.

The little madam on dishwashing rota decided to let the sink overflow with dirty dishes without much thought and the snack bowls scattered around the floor of the living room.

I rejoice in the fact that my children could walk up to me and discuss what they felt, but I think they have taken this liberty for tyranny.

The constant repetition of what should be done is tearing me apart. The use of deodorant has to be mentioned every day because someone doesn’t see the reason for its usage despite knowing the importance of self-care and hygiene. The teeth brushing, body drying and where the towels need to be after daily use needs to be re-emphasised.

The School Issue

My child with severely dry skin deliberately dislikes moisturising. And there is one who never wears a coat in sub-zero temperature. My eight year old wouldn’t eat breakfast to school but goes on to tell his teacher how hungry he is.

The school had summoned me a few times. The staff had given me a long lecture on the many benefits of breakfast to children’s learning, alertness and development.

As if that wasn’t enough, a teacher had volunteered to buy my teenage daughter winter jacket when she repeatedly turned up at school without one. This young lady has asthma and in her words “It’s not about the cold”.

Every afternoon, my son appears from his classroom in the replica of a child who has just been dug out of the mud. His scruffiness amazes me and of course his teachers. The white shirt that had been immaculately tucked in his well-ironed grey trousers would be half-buttoned and flaps about as he runs towards me.

The school jumper missing and in his hair are twigs and debris of the day’s activities. The bag on his back unzipped and books trailing behind him as he bounces up and down: A shadow of how he looked a few hours earlier.

I have used force to make things right, but I sometimes beat myself up with the force-theory. I have applied the reward system as well. However, my upbringing doesn’t support that. Why would I reward a child for eating breakfast? Bear in mind, these are not toddlers.

What I Learnt

In turn of all the avalanche, the scream had come handy. My quick-fix weapon. Maybe I wasn’t happy with myself. Maybe I got a bit overwhelmed with happenings around me, but my children interpreted my mood differently. In the midst of this anger, I wanted a change.

Once again, I had ventured into my world, auto-piloting parenting. Our talk had turned to screams and I made it so. The talk I had sworn by had vanished. I remained in a state of anger, surrounded by bolts of madness

To bring back sanity, I have once again rechanneled my focus. The end of the day chat has been reintroduced with cuddles and praises. We have all concluded to make a few changes to the daily routines. With this in place, everyone is sticking to our new drafted plans.

The lesson in this process is simple: Negotiation and dialogue are not just for adults. They work tricks with children.