The day started so well. With coffee and pancakes in the morning. Shower and then reading with my Ivy. A outing with my sister in law. The afternoon did not go so smoothly. It started soaking up the sun then it all went downhill from there. Three hours of high highs and low lows. From loud joy to screaming tantrum. Frozen uncomfortable adults. This is not a kind of life I want to live.

In my attempt to stay afloat, and reach the shore, I keep my sails up. Pushing against the gusts of wind, shifting, stormy waves, my boat didn’t sink. But nearly crashed.

As far as we know it’s not a mental disability, so why do we, the adults, not set clearer boundaries? Kind, clear, firm. Enforced with consistency.

Every honest speech is seen as a threat or an offense. At times I wanted to keep the peace, hold my breath, not rock the boat, we are here for just a short time.

But i have reached my limit. No more.

In order to correct one needs to be trusted, and as such first to truly connect. An adult who provides nurture, comfort, earns the right and authority to be firm.
Always appeasing the tantrum, distracting the child, it does not worked. It is actually getting worse over time.

Peer reactions, even when kind and clear, they are met with threats and accusations. Storming out. Crying.

Oh, how I love my sister, but today it occurred to me that is oblivious or maybe overwhelmed.

I think she might hear me if I shared with her but there is that fear that she might feel I judge her and shut down.

Responding with a very low tone “tell me what happened” instead of the high pitched “what’s wrong?” And trying to fix in a rush a nonissue.

Setting boundaries and following through.

I have witnessed a house of adults feel trapped, overwhelmed, unable to speak or to act decisively.

My hearts calmed down only after a 20 minute walk. I felt like I’m going to have a panic attack. Or I had one. I couldn’t catch my breath. In a pursuit of calm, my youngest daughter, on the verge of tears, asked Conrad to go for a walk. She just witnessed the chaos, quietly, wide eyed. My eldest rolled her eyes quietly but maybe that actually helped her release some frustration.

How can a room full of adults feel so trapped by the tantrum of a healthy 6 year old child? Everyone jumping in with appeasing attention fueled the drama.

Step 1. Ask for permission from the parent to be frank (with them and with the kid). I don’t feel we can overstep our boundary. It is not implied. It is actually frowned upon. The grandparents are the ones who are stuck. We are leaving in a few days. But at this point I don’t think there is any mutual trust and respects between the girl cousins. And I can’t blame my daughters. They are afraid to disturb the peace, by saying or not saying anything.

Step 2. Lower the sails. Let the strong wind pass. We can’t stop the storm. We can weather the storm at present. Pursue calmer seas. Get off the boat if that’s an option. Trying to hold the course saying nothing, nothing truthful and uncomfortable, that is not lowering the sails. That’s looking at the sails spinning out of control.

Calmly addressing the issue. One at the time. Too much time has passed that there is a jumble of confusion distrust heartache. Bad patterns need to be covered and new healthy patterns remade. It will be hard. There will be pushback. But there is hope. I have to believe that.
Not switching from emotion to emotion from high to low, uncontrollably. Unpredictable. I think that’s what scares me the most. Crazy laughter, out of the blue crying and screaming, then laughing again to then accusing everyone of everything.

When you hold your breath to not upset your friend, that is not a real friendship. It’s a toxic relationship. You have two options: clear the air or take some distance.