So I started the "Who will cry when you die" project some time ago. The book sits by my computer and I pick it up randomly, scanning the pages for tips on ensuring that there is a full house when I kick the bucket. I also have typed up two white pieces of paper with a list (bulleted, of course), of things I will do as a parent. For instance, have patience, not yell, blah blah blah.
I do make the utmost effort to read these parenting tips every time I either look in the mirror in my bathroom or open the spice cupboard (don't ask me why those were the locations I picked. The mirror I get - it's like a first thing in the morning spot. Spice rack? Don't know what the rational was on that one. Hey, when in doubt, blame hormones.). What these tips and the project have succeeded in doing is ensuring that I now recognize when I'm being a bag. I haven't developed as a person enough that when that recognition hits I actually do something about it, no. Instead, rather like I imagine an out-of-body experience would unfold, I hear myself yelling, feel myself losing control, and continue on.
I suppose that's like the initial baby step, the recognition of the Madness and then observation of said Madness. Perhaps would be a better parent/person, however, if that recognition and observation led to me actually doing something about it.
Maybe that's a project more suited for my 40s?