In Defense of Yellling

I yelled at my teenage daughter the other night. I admit it. There were several extenuating circumstances, some my fault; some hers; some nobody's, just situational.

First of all, I was worn out. We are under tremendous pressure at work right now; a client's pending acquisition has created a ton of new projects and it's been all-hands on-deck for the past couple of weeks. (This is wonderful news for business, but doesn't really make for the most patient parent after hours.) 

My daughter is worn out as well. Like most high school students, she doesn't get anything near enough sleep. And, after almost twelve years of classes and homework (I won't count kindergarten), she's pretty much "done" with school. Attitudinally anyway — hey, we've still got five months to go.

Add to this the concurrence of senior-year mid-terms, a looming scholarship competition, a naughty puppy, car trouble, the season's first significant snowstorm ... no wonder the atmosphere at ye olde homestead was what one might call "fraught." 

The aforementioned yelling was in response to something that my daughter had promised to do but was not doing (something that I thought was important, but she clearly did not). It turned out to be a moot point, but that's another story for another less stressed-out day.

For the record, I don't yell very often. Generally, I speak in dulcet, measured tones. But, my daughter would tell you otherwise; she insists that I do. I confess that I often nag, but I don't yell. To me, yelling involves raising your voice. My daughter, on the other hand, thinks that any negative observation or constructive criticism, no matter how soft-spoken, constitutes a "yell." I say, "Get thee to a dictionary."

To yell (a verb) is to say something very loudly especially because you are angry, surprised or are trying to get someone's attention. Thank you, Misters Merriam and Webster.

Definitions aside, I did yell and I'm sorry for it. But, in my defense ...

Is it not human nature to raise one's voice when one has repeated a request so many times that one has lost count?

Is it not natural to become frustrated and to voice said frustration in a "loud and sharp cry" when one's high honors student, for whom English is a first language, appears to be mystified by the simple words, "Do it now?"

Is there not some benefit to helping one's offspring understand that a person should only push another person so far?

I would argue yes to all of the above.

And I would do so in dulcet, measured tones.  

If you've enjoyed this post, I invite you to order the book Lovin' the Alien here.   

Mid-Terms

Mid-Terms
(Sung to the tune of Michael Jackson's Thriller)

It's close to midnight.

But someone here's still working in the dark.

She's got her laptop, 

Hoping she'll succeed and make her mark.

She wants to scream but panic takes the sound before she makes it.

She starts to freeze as index cards dance before her eyes,

She's paralyzed.

'Cause this is mid-terms, mid-terms week,

And no one's gonna save her with the answers that she seeks.

She knows it's mid-terms, mid-terms time.

She's fighting for that grade and it's an uphill, uphill, uphill, uphill climb.

She hears a door close and on the steps she thinks she hears a shoe.

Her parents would help — if, that is, they had the slightest clue.

Geometry, it doesn't make much sense. The test is looming.

But all the while, she feels her college chances slip away.

Filled with dismay!

'Cause this is mid-terms, mid-term tests.

She wishes she had studied a little harder with the rest.

She knows it's mid-terms, mid-terms week.

She's running out of time and really starting, starting, starting to freak.

An exam each day, and there's really nowhere left to hide.

The tests are coming, they're closing in on her on every side.

Honors English: Copperfield, Gilgamesh, Of Mice and Men ...

Biology, French, World Cultures ... oh, if only she could trade,

And go back to eighth grade.

'She can't, it's mid-terms, mid-term days.

She knows she'll soon regret her former care-free lazy ways.

Because it's mid-terms, mid-terms time.

And it's an uphill, uphill, uphill, uphill climb.

(spoken)

Darkness falls across the land,

Mid-term tests are close at hand.

Terror seizes freshman blood,

All throughout y'alls neighborhood.

The saddest cries in the air,

The grim prospect of three more years.

And grizzly ghouls each dawn awake,

Because they stayed up way too late.

And though she tries to cram her head

That A+ isn't firm

For all mere freshmen come to dread

The evil of the mid-term.