It’s been a difficult day. Your boss was demanding and piled additional work on you (which should have been assigned to someone else). You worked through lunch and you’re hungry and… grumpy. Traffic was horrendous. The kids have soccer practice and your oldest has to work on her seventh grade science project (You hate science projects. Doesn’t everyone?).
You walk into the house, thinking about what you can zap in the microwave for a quick dinner before the gauntlet and bevy of demands begin. Your second grader runs up to you (no greeting or happy to see you). “Can we go to the store and get a Webkin with my Christmas money?” “Not tonight, honey. We have too much going on,” you politely reply.
Bam! Your little angel erupts, throws herself on the floor, kicks her feet and proceeds to throw the temper tantrum of the century.
Bam! You snap and then erupt, matching the intensity of your child’s temper tantrum by throwing one of your own parent-sized temper tantrums. You raise your voice, trying to out shout your screaming child…and the night is ruined before it even began.
Can you relate to this moment? I definitely can. And I think 99.9% of parents on the planet have been in the same sinking boat with us more than a time or two.
What can we do? A small thing that I have found to be helpful in making the transition from professional of the marketplace to the parent of the family motley crew is to mentally define the demarcation point of the transition. I do this when I pull into my driveway after a long day at work. I sit in my car for a moment, gather my thoughts, and talk to myself. And yes it is okay to talk to yourself. Psychologists call it “cognitive rehearsal.” I call it my “sanity sandwich” between work and home.
It goes like this. I take a moment to think about what has to be done at home (i.e., soccer practice, dinner, homework). I tilt my head back and take a few deep breaths. I tell myself to let work go for now. I remind myself that my kids are kids and are not just little adults. They have their own stressors and have had their own difficult day of kid-sized challenges. I tell myself that attitudes are contagious and I have the power to influence the evening by how I respond to whatever is going on at home. I end my little pep talk by telling myself that my kids deserve the best Dad that I can be, even I don’t feel like being the best Dad tonight. It’s a choice I can make, and tonight I am going to make that choice. Then I say, “let’s rock n roll…” and I go up the steps, open the front door, and enter the Parent Zone…
It is a small thing I do, but it helps me be a better Dad. And that's what matters!
