The Best in Us-- Feeling, Speaking, and Showing Love

I was driving home after a long doctor’s appointment where we found out that Chantelle had yet another urinary tract infection. We’d been there for about two hours, so now we were in the throes of rush hour traffic.

Traffic crept and I decided that I had enough room to make it through a green light. I eased forward just as a suburban coming from the opposite direction turned left into this intersection, driving right toward me.

I think I accidentally pushed the gas a little, then hit the brake hard.

She slammed her brake too, and then (if you can believe it) her car just sat there in the middle of the intersection as she screamed at me, jabbing her finger to emphasize her words.

I kind of squinted and waved her on, but she let me have her full, silent tirade, no corners cut.

(On a sidenote, this was a really unappealing look at another human being. Do we realize how unpleasant we are when angry?)

She finally finished, drove on, and I got to cross the intersection.

It took a few seconds to shake off her venom, but then I had this quiet feeling of heartbreak for this woman.

She looked like a mother to me, from the car she drove to the way she’d shaken her finger. I built her family in my head, imagining that she has two or three kids, maybe between ages eight and fifteen, and a husband who works at a tough job.

I bet she loves her family. I bet she serves them, fixes them dinner every night, makes sure homework is in backpacks and laundry is hung up.

I bet she would (and does) do anything for her kids.

And then, I just felt so sorry for these kids, because if this woman would scream at me, a total stranger who had done nothing wrong, I can guarantee that she screams at her family in just the same way. The same loss of control, the same bitter anger.

I don’t like when people scream at me. It makes me feel hurt and shriveled inside. I don’t think I’m unique to this; I think distress is a universal reaction to anger, especially for children.

Can you see the tragedy of a woman loving her children dearly, but presenting herself so that all they see is bitter anger or even hate? Her negative reactions may not even be aimed at the children, but you’d better believe that it affects them deeply.[1] My own little girl, for example, becomes like a snail hiding in its shell when she sees her parents in distress of any kind.

At this point, I want to stop.

This isn’t really about the woman in the car, though I wish the best for her.

This is about me. This is about you.

This is about us parents who are exhausted, agitated, or overwhelmed.

We’re doing the best we can. We are holding our families together, working long hours at tough jobs, and trying to figure this whole parenting thing out.

...Are we really doing the best we can?

On that long drive home, I wondered uneasily if I ever give my children cause to doubt that I love them. Do they ever feel small or shriveled?

I decided that from then on, I would try to show love in every interaction.

This isn't always easy with a three-year-old who is exploring her own independence and a one-year-old who is always tired but never sleepy.

I've found that showing love comes down to three principles: feeling love, speaking love, and showing love.

This effort has to start inside of me. Negative emotions like irritation or impatience are always apparent to my children. I have to slow down and remember how precious my children are and how much I love them. If love is my base emotion, that love will guide my words and actions even if I'm disciplining.

My words must also be gentle and kind. I have to consider how something will sound before I say it. I also have to be willing to apologize when I do or say something badly.

Next, I have to take time out of my day to show my children love. This means that for a few minutes the To-Do list has to be ignored and the phone has to be hidden so that I can really listen to and really play with my daughters.

When things are starting to get out of control, the last thing I do is pause to think, "When I'm at the end of the day looking back, what will I wish I had done?" By thinking this, I enable myself to step back and gain some perspective on hard situations.

I repeat that showing love is feelings, words, and actions all rolled together.

We only have a few short years with our children. They deserve the best in us.

-Jenna

Footnotes

[1] Moges, Bethel and Weber, Kristi. 2014. Parental Influence on the Emotional Development of Children. Developmental Psychology at Vanderbilt.