I always wanted to be one of those mothers who never yells at her kids. The sweet-faced mother who speaks in low whispers to get attention and never loses her patience. The one who gets results by leaning in close and repeating herself once. Just the once.
Unfortunately, I’m not.
Patience is not my strong suit. It never was. And, though my children have definitely granted me more than I ever had before they came along, it never seems to be enough. Especially when I’m experiencing a migraine attack.
In the first stages of my migraine attacks, I am irritable beyond measure. Everything annoys me. Everything is too loud, too bright, too intense, too much. And that feeling extends, no matter how hard I try to keep it in its own box, to my kids.
To my delightful, gorgeous children whom I love with my entire self. My imaginative, creative kids who create stories and games that impress me even when they’re driving me bonkers. Even when they won’t listen no matter what I say until someone, usually me, starts to yell.
I hate yelling, but it works. Sometimes, it’s the only things that works, and when I’m in the midst of a migraine attack from hell I simply do not have the resources to try something new. Something that likely requires more patience than I am blessed with at even my best moments. So I’ve done the next best thing I know––worked to rein in the irritability that comes with my attacks.
Because, usually, I’m a pretty easy-going mom. I have rules, but there aren’t many of them and they make sense to both of my kids. Following them isn’t difficult. Most of the time, we have a fairly harmonious household, even with a teenager, a preschooler, a step-dad with a 50+ hour work week, and a work-at-home mom with three jobs. Usually, that is, unless migraine irritability rears its ugly head and wreaks havoc on the peaceful environment I’ve worked so hard to create and maintain.
I recognize this now. So I breathe when I realize I’ve been annoyed by two different things in three minutes or by both my children in the span of five. I count to five, and I tune into my body, feeling for other symptoms of migraine. Almost always, I find them.
And when I do, if I do, I take a break.
I explain to my kids that I’m getting a migraine, and I walk away. I take a bath or go to my room. Breathe some more. Do a few gentle stretches. Let my adrenaline and anxiety taper down.
Then I return to my family. A little less stressed, a little less irritable. Still with a migraine attack, but with a few more resources to deal with it, including, usually, a little more patience.