There are few things more humbling and heartbreaking than my two and a half year old looking sadly at me and saying, “You’re not being very kind to me, mommy,” when my frustration rises and my tone shifts into a yell.
I’ve only heard it once. But that comment was enough to shift something huge in my heart. A piece of me is thankful that he knows and understands what kind is. But the other piece of me knows how important it is to be the example of kind that he needs for me to be.
And I know very well that that example doesn’t begin with yelling or expressing my anger without restraint.
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