Why do we yell? Because we can. (And it works!)

When I was pregnant, I was sure that I would be the perfect mother. I had dreams of smiling down in maternal bliss at my sleepy infant as he nursed off to sleep. He would be chubby and happy and I would be one of those cute moms that was out and about with my child, going to the library, getting lots of use from the jog stroller and otherwise doing all the things that good moms do.

The reality is that the first 10 weeks of motherhood were an agonizing blur of breast infections and cracked nipples. I went a full year with undiagnosed postpartum depression. It took two years to get rid of the 60 pounds I gained during pregnancy – I had a very unhealthy relationship with Wispride port wine and cheddar cheese spread – and my kid rarely slept more then a few hours in a row until he was 2 1/2 years old. I quickly abandoned all ideas of perfection and focused entirely on survival.

But I still had high hopes about using proper discipline techniques. Like any good attachment parenting follower, I read the books, went to the group classes, talked to all the best moms and even went to conferences. I was particularly intrigued by a method called “nonviolent communication.”

Nonviolent communication theory, developed in the 1960s, is based on the idea that all human beings have the capacity for compassion and resort to violence or behavior that harms other people because they don’t see alternative means for meeting their own needs. Habits that lead to the use of violence — both psychological and physical— are learned through culture. Conflicts arise when people’s strategies for meeting their needs clash. If people can identify their needs, the needs of others, and the feelings that surround these needs, we can achieve harmony.

Doesn’t this sound amazing? Don’t you think the world would be a better place if we all practiced nonviolent communication? I worked so hard to make this the central theme of my parenting practices. I regularly reigned in the desire to scream like a banshee when my child was doing something I didn’t like and instead, spoke calmly and truly tried to understand where he was coming from.

Then one evening, I spent an entire hour sitting on the floor with my toddler, trying to understand the feelings behind why he did not want to clean up his toys. It was then that I realized I was an idiot. He didn’t want to clean up the toys because he was 2. He was still convinced that he and I were the same person (that doesn’t go away until they’re about three) and the only motivation he was working with was, “I don’t want to.”

Speaking to him as if he were a fully rational adult who had any understanding of what the hell I was talking about, was simply asinine. This was reinforced for me when we had an encounter with another child whose mother also employed NVC. When the child in question hit my child in the face, the mother quietly said, “Was that nice? Would you like it if someone hit you?” To no reasoning human’s surprise, the offending kid shrugged and went over to claim the toy that had been the center of the argument, since my kid was now out of the picture.

Clearly, nonviolent communication was not achieving the desired results. And though I still think it is a great concept that should be employed in international relations, corporate settings and many other dealing with adult humans, assuming my 3-year-old could empathize with my desire for a clean family room was ridiculous. And asking him why he broke every crayon in the box and threw them around the room was like wondering why my cat bites me when I pet him. It’s because he wanted to. And that was the extent of his honest self-expression.

So I started choosing my battles. And I also started yelling. Because it’s not okay to shoot your cousin between the eyes with a pop gun simply because you wanted to see what would happen. There’s a reason we have different volumes to our voices.

Over the years, my children and I have learned the many nuances of these volumes and now know that a low growl through gritted teeth can be just as effective, sometimes more so, then a full blown screech. I’m not above using either because when I say, “please put that away,” I don’t mean move it from the kitchen table to the dining room table and I never – never – mean put it behind the throw pillows on the couch.

How did that even become a thing? What thought process tells a child that behind-the-pillow is an excellent place to store ones possessions? And yet, every day I find items stuffed back there; phone chargers, stuffed animals, writing utensils and the one that brings out the raving banshee: dirty socks.

Seriously? Why?! How depraved can a child be? I do not ever want to find nasty, smelly socks anywhere but the washing machine or the hamper. But in my house, one can regularly discover these gems not only behind couch cushions but also on the floor, on kitchen chairs and the creme dela creme, atop the radiator. No amount of nonviolent communication is going to make me feel empathetic towards my teenagers need to squirrel away his dirty socks. And really, what could he possibly offer as motivation for this act?

“Well mom, I thought we were participating in a scavenger hunt and I knew you’d check on the kitchen chair and really wanted you to win.”

We all know that he just didn’t feel like getting off his video-gaming arse to clean them up.

And the girl, well it’s been established that she’s practicing for a future career as either a hoarder or a homeless person. You never know when you might need that sharpie in a life-or-death situation. Behind the pillow allows much quicker access than in the drawer with the rest of the markers. I’m not even surprised anymore when I find a headband in her tea mug.

“Well it’s not like there was any tea left.”

Because that makes it better.

Children are beautiful blessings disguised as filthy, needy, loud and illogical tyrants. Thank God we can see through the facade. However, if you’ve also found that yelling is a necessity of parenting, you may have lost your voice on occasion. I find a nice, warm tea with honey helps soothe an angry throat.

Throat Tea

1/2 teaspoon dried licorice root (do not use if you have blood pressure issues)
or 1/2 teaspoon dried ginger root
1 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon fresh squeezed lemon juice (or to taste- I like a lot more)

Pour the water over the herbs and honey and let steep. (If you don’t have a tea strainer, you’ll need to strain the herbs out before drinking) Add lemon juice and sip.

Laurie Nigro, a mother of two, is passionate about her family, her community, and natural living. Laurie resides in downtown Riverhead and is co-founder of the River and Roots Community Garden on West Main Street.

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