Some days all I do is yell. I yell and I yell and I yell. Sometimes the right thing to do is probably just to politely ask my children to do what I want them to do, but because reality has made yelling a habit it comes out as me yelling.

I hate yelling. It makes me unnerved. It's not how I believe results are produced in business, how could it produce results in four year olds? Newsflash...it doesn't. Yet, at home it's so hard to find a balance that doesn't include yelling.

So tonight when my daughter asked what letter an exclaimation point was as she was looking at a book, I had to explain that it meant that the person was yelling, exclaiming, what they were saying. In this particular book, a mother was telling a child, David, "No peeking!"

David is always getting yelled at in his book series. I bought them in hopes of teaching my children right from wrong without me having to yell, David's mother could do that! It has not worked out that way. In fact, the real reason my daughters love David is that he bares his naked tushy, and what could be more fun than a bare bum?

As I write this, namely to get out the frustrations of my day, I realize that all the yelling and anxiety over doing the right things at home, the things that I find particularly important, is falling on deaf ears, maybe. Only time will tell. So deep breaths and move forward. Deep breaths and prayers for moments of sanity. Moments that prove that I'm doing something right.

Hardest job ever, because there is no one there to let you know whether or not you are performing, whether or not you are doing anything right. Whether or not you will end up fodder for their memoir...

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