"Being angry doesn’t make you a bad person, just someone with unmet needs."

Caden woke up at 4:45 this morning. To him it was 5:45, which is early, but almost a reasonable time to get up. Today, however, is Daylight Savings Time, an evil wrought upon parents with small children. Unmet needs? Yes. I really needed to sleep today. Cameron got up with Caden to try and let me sleep a little more, but I couldn’t get on top of my thump thump thump anxious heart and wound up getting out of bed. I went to a meditation thing, and sat on a cushion and breathed and calmed a little, but then there was a discussion part where people aired their woes in relation to practice and I wanted to say it, to tell those strangers, “I am pregnant, and I am scared.” I sat there, my heart racing, my hands growing heavy, anxiety creeping up my spine anticipating my turn to speak. But when everyone had gone except for me, the facilitator said “Well, we’ve actually gone over time so we’ll have to stop there.” What? I was pissed! Time spent in meditation flew out the window.


Back at home Cameron went to get his hair cut and I tried to put Caden down for a nap. His body relaxed against mine as we read Shel Silverstein poems, and he asked for “It’s Time for Sleep, My Love," so I thought I was golden, but sleep was to play no part in his afternoon. Nothing triggers me like no nap. My eyes were heavy, my tongue slow, my limbs dragging. I did not want to give up the nap. I shoved him into some warm clothes, pulled out the stroller, and started walking. Surely he would sleep. Resentful that I was walking instead of sleeping, I stomped, breathing heavy, trying to enjoy the gusty leaves and sunshine, but just stayed stuck in anger. I furiously scrolled through my phone for something calming to listen to. Dharma talks, guided meditations, positive affirmations, it was all just pissing me off. I walked into the wind,  pushing my kid up a hill, as he sang and swung his feet, being cute, but I couldn’t see it. He doesn’t nap every day anymore, and I know I need to just surrender to the unpredicatability, but the allure of a quiet house, time to rest my head. I find it hard to let that go, so I kept walking, growing ever more angry with him. I reached a point where I was scared to go home because I was so angry, that I was scared I would be an evil horrible monster to my child should he be set free from his stroller. I finally settled on Ray LaMontangue on the headphones and told Caden I would be unavailable for conversation. I kept walking until my husband got home and took over and then, blissfully, I got to sleep for half an hour.

I have been trying, since Caden turned two, to find a way to parent my child that is loving and gentle, yet also sets firm boundaries. I read the book Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids, and it resonated deeply with me. It is based on a few guiding principles, one that you must model appropriate emotional regulation for your child to learn how to regulate their own response to their emotions, and two, that the more connected you are to your child the more they will listen and respond to you. When I’ve got my act together, I feel really great about parenting in this style. When I am calm and can provide a safe container for my son to have all the big emotions he has, when I put down my phone and stay present with him, when I find ways for him to help me cook, when I take the time to look in his eyes when he’s telling me a story, it’s the best. Heart melting and warm and yummy. The thing is, this philosophy of parenting asks you to dig deep. To find your triggers, stay calm, take care of yourself, stay present. It is hard inner work. And since we have been going through infertility treatments, it has become even harder to stay present with my kid as I fret over the result of this test, day dream about more children, take time many times a day to offer support t friends on line going through all of this with me. Regulating my emotional responses has been near impossible as my hormones have fluxuated, soaring and crashing. And now that I am a little pregnant, my anxiety is sky rocketing. I am tired and hungry and scared, and I am angry a lot. Recently this article came across my facebook feed: "Healthy ways of dealing with anger in the family and in yourself," and I figured I should give it a read. It was helpful in that, like everything Genevieve Simperingham writes, she advocates compassion with oneself and an exploration of the deeper sources of our anger. The line that struck me the most,” Being angry doesn’t make you a bad person, just someone with unmet needs.” When I am angry with my son, my miracle, the baby I prayed and cried and waited for for so long, I feel terrible about myself, so I need people to tell me I’m not a bad person. I need reminders to forgive myself.

So how do we go about meeting those unmet needs? We tried. My husband let me sleep in. He gave me the space to go to a meditation session. Maybe there was something else I needed that I was not even aware of. I have so much support in my life, and yet I am struggling. It is such a strange dichotomy to be trying so hard to bring another child into this world, maybe even two, and at the same time be struggling so much with the child I have. Many buddhist teachers advocate to stay present with these uncomfortable feelings, the anger, the anxiety, the self loathing, to sit with them, accept them, befriend them, not try to change then, but witness what the power of self -compassion and accepting life as it is can do. I’m not sure I know how to do that. I love my son so fiercely, and want to do right by him, and it is this same ferocity, this fire, that gets me into trouble. And he has it, too, man. My boy is all fire.