The most obscure wins are in parenthood.

"Don't ever speak to me tonight. Even at dinner. I hate you."

These were the words of frustration my four year old said to me when I wouldn't give her another brownie and placed her on the other side of the kitchen so I could wash and sweep the floor.

She then marches up to her room and shuts (thankfully not slams) the door. Can you even imagine what this will look like 10 years from now?

I tell her, "You can say that, but that makes me sad. You can be mad. I still love you."

But you know, as hot headed as she can get, she knows when to take the time, the breaths, the space and hone it back in when she is ready. As frustrating as it can be, I know I can at least celebrate these small wins. She's learning to use her voice and what to do with her anger. It is a constant balance to decide what to police as a parent. Do I tell her I don't want to say those things or let her voice it and hope it subsides. Parenting is a tricky game.

Ten minutes later down she came... a quiet little march to me. She sat herself in my lap saying  "Mommy I'm sorry I said those things to you. I love you so much. I just really love brownies and that's actually what it is." 

"Thanks for apologizing." I reply. "I know you love me and sometimes I say things I don't mean when I'm mad. I shouldn't do that either, but it's hard when you are mad. I love you too and brownies too."

I have no idea what on earth she did upstairs in her room or if she mused this through her head or even felt guilty? Maybe she just played and calmed down? BUT I'm grateful that something is working it's way through. 

She said mean things.

She took the time.

She realized it.

She apologized.

I will take it.

It wasn't always like this. 

Inadvertently I did my oldest more of a disservice by my inability to model appropriate responses and tend to my own nagging rage. I considered myself to be a loose cannon by nature, reactive and defensive; it was how I was wired for as long as I can remember. (And a constant work in progress). Then, kid number two arrived, I stopped working and dealt with post partum rage with two young kids while my husband builds his business so we can live. It was the season of all the things we wanted, but it was also one of the heaviest. 

The reality is that only a few short years ago, I melted in a circle of laundry and tears. I sat, cross legged in the center of our dining room carpet sobbing that I don't want to be like this and don't know why I'm so mad all the time. My literal cry for help. No one wants or likes to harp on their kids and feel out of control. Thankfully my husband, who happens to be a therapist found an 8 week yoga therapy/mindfulness program. 

This was the start of a beautiful relationship of peeling back the layers of my onion-y self. It was my first step at doing something for me. Ever since little people entered the picture, life for me took a back seat. And I'm talking about the 3rd row seat in a Chevy Traverse type back. I'm inching my way back to the driver seat all the while getting to the center of that onion, with plenty of tears along the way. 

I truly thought I would be the best mom. What person nanny's for years and years for a gazillion and 5 years and struggles with her own kids? That's a poke to your ego when it came so naturally for years. There is NO FREAKING RECIPE. And mind you, while I do a lot of things right and well, I've also screamed or said terrible things to my humans. 
I did it. I regret it. 
It was terrible. I felt terrible. 
Still does. 
I'm not trying to get all religion-y here (I'm currently a practicing SBNA type), but do you know what forgiveness and redemption looks like?

It looks like them.
I learn it through them.
They forgive me and love my unconditionally as I do them. They remind me to forgive and love myself unconditionally. I still have mommy meltdowns, but for the love of Christ they are less and I am catching myself faster. I am retreating to my space even if it means I sit behind the door as my oldest pounds it. I am able to get to the root of a child meltdown without melting down myself. I find myself able to realize when the heat of my body is rising. And when I do fall off the curve, as all imperfect people do, I apologize. I always, always say I was wrong and I am trying to do better.

At this point in moving forward, all I want is for my gals to emulate and articulate their true feelings. Which is why even if my 4 year old says she hates me, I'm taking it as a win because she took the right steps to cool off and apologize. The things I never thought I would celebrate before having children.