So, how am I doing?

I started over on the no-yelling thing. I've been leaving comments on the Orange Rhino (the girl with the bright idea) FB page. I'm involved and committed.

Since my little mess-up, I have plunged forward and if I make it through today, I will have completed 25 days of not yelling at my kids. Bryce's behavior has gotten so much worse, but now I feel like I can hear his needs now that I'm placing them above my own. For me, I think, yelling was just the opening credits, maybe the climactic scene, of the parenting pity party I've allowed myself to have when things don't go my way.

I have since got Bryce on the no-yelling bandwagon. He's working it out and is far from where I'd hoped he'd be, but he's mellowing a bit and taking more responsibility for his reactions. He's getting quicker at coming to me for help on a solution instead of just blasting a sibling for being hurtful, bossy or  uncooperative.

I've read my scriptures every day for 35 days. I'm finally longing to read them, longing to learn. It's been nice to reacquainted with each other. It's been 16 years this month since I entered the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah which turned the Book of Mormon into my best friend for the next 18 months. A natural result is that I'm praying as an individual more regularly and feel more at peace. These things have been great blessings.

I have crafted something every day since I started. I've written poems, worked on afghans, built a cat scratching post, made friendship bracelets, built lines on my family tree (yes, I counted genealogy) and worked on a scrapbook page.

This is what I love best:
 I feel like each day is filled with more purpose than I've has for a looooooong time. True purpose that is shaping me and making me better. I feel more positive. This is not to say I don't feel stress. I've felt a lot of it as I have wrestled with the natural man and with three kids who are trying to adjust to the new me. All those same family struggles are still there, but I feel like the Lord is right along side me, instead of blocked off, relegated to the proverbial sporting-event bench, by me, while I try to play the game alone.