About two years ago, I made the bold decision to stop raising my voice at my children. For a long time, I had subscribed to the belief that “if you’re not yelling, you’re not engaged enough.” It seemed to work well for me. I often justified my outbursts, believing that their incessant antics warranted my frustration, especially since I was the one managing the chaos most of the time.
Then, one day, I decided to cut it out completely. I metaphorically tossed the pacifier aside and went from yelling to a complete halt. The atmosphere in our home shifted dramatically. I felt lighter, my children were more joyful, and our household thrived. My no-yell approach seemed like the golden ticket to parenting success. I would ask them once, then twice, and by the third prompt, I’d say, “Did you notice the change in my voice? That’s your cue to act before I lose it!” They would respond immediately.
Before long, I found that my warnings were unnecessary. My kids fell into line like well-trained ducks, tackling chores without needing a third reminder. It was like living in a 1950s sitcom—minus the poodle skirts and hair ribbons.
Of course, I still struggled occasionally. I would yell in my mind, thoughts like “oh for crying out loud!” echoed in my head, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll. But I had someone to vent to—my partner, who had vowed to bear the brunt of my frustrations. Life felt idyllic.
Fast forward two years, and now we have two teenagers in the house. I could shout until I was hoarse, but what would be the point? They simply don’t listen anymore, no matter how loud I get or how exasperated I sound. They’ve grown accustomed to my calm approach and are now walking all over me. What happened? I was living the dream, basking in the admiration of my friends and family. My Christmas cards proclaimed, “Oh, what a peaceful home!” So why the sudden shift?
Hormones.
Teens require a different kind of communication style—yelling is not it. The voice you need for this stage is akin to the gentle approach one would take with a sleeping tiger or a scorpion on your partner’s face while they’re dreaming. It’s a careful, nuanced tone that only the parents of teenagers can master.
My teens, however, don’t give me the courtesy of warning before they start yelling. They don’t offer a gradual build-up; they just let loose like a tea kettle gone rogue. Instead of training them with my no-yelling policy, I’ve untrained myself. I find myself ill-equipped to handle their volume, and what was once a serene home now feels like chaos.
Let this be a cautionary tale for all parents considering a similar path. If you think stopping the yelling is the answer, you may be making a grave error. You’ll regret it when your teenager yells at you, and you find yourself without the tools to manage it. Remember the old saying: “If you’re not raising your voice, you’re not spending enough time with your kids.” So, invest that time wisely, even if it means letting those voices rise higher. You’re preparing them for the teenage years, and trust me, it’s an experience like no other.
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In summary, while it may seem peaceful to abandon yelling, it can lead to unexpected challenges as your kids grow. Balancing communication styles is crucial, especially with teenagers.