1.0The MacPherson Diarieshttps://themacphersondiaries.co.nzrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content"><a href="https://themacphersondiaries.co.nz/family/hitting-reset/">Hitting Reset</a></blockquote> <script type='text/javascript'> <!--//--><![CDATA[//><!-- /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";var e=!1,o=!1;if(l.querySelector)if(d.addEventListener)e=!0;if(d.wp=d.wp||{},!d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage)if(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if(t)if(t.secret||t.message||t.value)if(!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){var r,a,i,s,n,o=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]');for(r=0;r<c.length;r++)c[r].style.display="none";for(r=0;r<o.length;r++)if(a=o[r],e.source===a.contentWindow){if(a.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message){if(1e3<(i=parseInt(t.value,10)))i=1e3;else if(~~i<200)i=200;a.height=i}if("link"===t.message)if(s=l.createElement("a"),n=l.createElement("a"),s.href=a.getAttribute("src"),n.href=t.value,n.host===s.host)if(l.activeElement===a)d.top.location.href=t.value}}},e)d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",t,!1),d.addEventListener("load",t,!1);function t(){if(!o){o=!0;var e,t,r,a,i=-1!==navigator.appVersion.indexOf("MSIE 10"),s=!!navigator.userAgent.match(/Trident.*rv:11\./),n=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content");for(t=0;t<n.length;t++){if(!(r=n[t]).getAttribute("data-secret"))a=Math.random().toString(36).substr(2,10),r.src+="#?secret="+a,r.setAttribute("data-secret",a);if(i||s)(e=r.cloneNode(!0)).removeAttribute("security"),r.parentNode.replaceChild(e,r)}}}}(window,document); //--><!]]> </script><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://themacphersondiaries.co.nz/family/hitting-reset/embed/" width="600" height="338" title="“Hitting Reset” — The MacPherson Diaries" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe>https://themacphersondiaries.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/feature-image-e1510263455297.jpg12811024Tears were streaming down my beautiful 2 year old son’s face and his chest was heaving. These were no alligator tears, and they were because of me. The knot in my stomach tightened and I felt that wave of nausea rise up into my throat. Something had to change. We have never hit our children. Not once. Not by mistake. Not on purpose. Never. But what I had started to do, which embarrasses me greatly, was yell. And yell loudly. Small things started to tip me over the edge. A tissue going through the wash, toys I’d just put away being brought back out, pants getting wet from jumping in puddles (thanks Peppa). It wasn’t always loud and angry, but it was becoming my default setting when I got annoyed. I brought it up with some other ‘mother of toddler’ friends and they kindly reassured me it’s normal: “They’re punks at this age.”… “They push you to the brink.” “Everyone snaps sometimes”. But it didn’t feel normal, or good. I needed to find out what was going on. Why was I getting so mad so quickly? I felt like I went from 0 to 100% in a matter of seconds. […]