I have decided to stop yelling at least a thousand times in my seven years of motherhood. I come from a long line of yellers, and I have used that excuse as a crutch for way too long. I have wanted to write a blog post about yelling for years, but decided (in an effort to never fit the label 'hypocrite') that I first needed to stop yelling myself. I have joined encouragement groups on Facebook designed to help moms stop yelling, I have read books about the harm of yelling, I have talked about it with friends, listened to podcasts, prayed about it... you name it. And I am still yelling. I need to do something different. I need accountability. I need to know that other people are looking at me, wanting me to succeed, wanting me to solve this problem so many moms face. I can't just pray about my yelling and then get up and go do the dishes, because in five minutes I'll scream at my three-year-old for tripping me when he knows not to stand right behind me. Mom life, you guys. That will happen. I can't pray for my heart and then rely on my will to keep me from shouting when the frustration hits hard in the heat of the moment. No. I need to do something more.I need to get on my knees and let the tears fall. I need to reach up, grab onto my Jesus, and not let go until this generational curse is broken. I need to fight the good fight and I need to win. In Jesus' name. I'm committing to 30 days of no yelling. In the middle of a move and the launch of my book, I'm going in with my armor on tight. At first I thought maybe I should wait till things settle down and I'm not in the middle of a launch or moving to a new house, but you know what? My kids come first, and screaming at them for one more minute is not okay with me. I am not okay with being the mom who lowers the bar just because life is stressful. This is my kids' only childhood, and I am the memory maker. They'll remember the next month - the move, me working extra - all of it. They'll remember that I yelled. Or, they'll remember that this was the time the yelling was silenced. Either way, they'll remember me. How, is all up to me.