Admitting When You’re Wrong

Admitting When You’re Wrong

There are some days that I feel like I’m speaking an entirely different language than the rest of the people that live here. I get frustrated from asking the same thing over and over, give in to my exhaustion, and eventually lose my temper.Admitting When You're Wrong

This usually looks like a lot of yelling or just generally having a poor attitude. I huff and puff about the house wearing the invisible sign that says, “Everyone here is annoying.” I send my signal out that lets everyone around me know that I’m irritated.

It’s a horrible way to behave. Nobody deserves to feel my wrath and I know it, but there are some days I just can’t stop myself.  I hate when I get like that.

Last week my poor attitude lead to a senseless argument with my oldest.  As I type this, I don’t even remember what we were arguing about. It was that senseless, but in the heat of the moment I needed to make my point. I was filled with pride as I tried to justify my behavior. Deep down I knew I was wrong, but I continued on with my rant until both of my kids were looking at me like I had three heads.

In the end, I acted like a jerk and I knew it.

The days of messing up as a parent and no one noticing are long gone. I’m navigating the waters of raising big kids and I’m on uncharted territory!

Here’s the thing with teenagers: They’re old enough to know when you’re in the wrong and they’re old enough to be disappointed when you act like a jerk.

After I had a chance to cool down, I knew I what I needed to do.

I love my children too much to let my own pride rob them of the comfort of knowing I can admit when I’m wrong.  I might have acted like a complete jerk, but I hope that at the end of the day a heartfelt apology and a warm embrace will count for something.

It’s not easy to admit when I’m wrong because; well…I like being right, but what am I teaching my children by acting like a fool and pretending it’s ok?

I might mess up on this parenting journey, but the least I can do is teach my kids how to recover from mistakes.

My son took the brunt of my frustrations that day and didn’t deserve my outburst. I needed to swallow my pride and apologize. So, I came in from the porch and did just that. My heart ached with the thought of admitting my weakness, but when I said the words, “I’m sorry.” everything changed.

It’s hard to admit when we mess up as parents, but it makes a big difference when we show our kids that we care enough to tell them we’re sorry. I will never be a perfect parent, but I am determined to learn how to parent in spite of my imperfections.


About Adrienne: 

adrienne-boltonAdrienne is a homeschooling mom of two and blogger at The Mommy Mess, where she write with an honest voice about the mess of motherhood. You can connect with her on Twitter as @TheMommyMess and join her on Facebook to catch a glimpse of her daily chaos of homeschooling, raising boys, and just generally surviving motherhood.

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