This morning, I completely lost it.
After getting the kids ready for school—dressed, fed, teeth brushed, and backpacks in tow—I turned on the TV. I have a strict rule about which channels they can watch. There’s so much garbage out there—shows aimed at teens and preteens that feature kids hurling insults like “idiot” and “stupid,” behavior I don’t want my children to emulate. So, the rule is simple: Mom picks the channel, and you don’t change it without asking. But my daughter Mia never follows this rule. The second I leave the room, she’s got the remote, searching for some obnoxious show with snarky teenagers.
This morning was no different. Within moments of setting the TV to a kid-friendly channel, Mia was already flipping through channels. “Please leave the TV alone, Mia,” I reminded her. I stepped out briefly, and when I passed by again, there she was—remote in hand, channel surfing once more. That was it.
What followed was a flurry of yelling and swearing. “I’VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES TO LEAVE IT ALONE!!” I screamed. “GO TO YOUR ROOM UNTIL IT’S TIME FOR SCHOOL. NOW!!” She just stood there, frozen. “GO!” I shouted. All the kids froze as I chased Mia to her room. She managed to lock the door just before I reached her. “I’m gonna lose it!” I mumbled. “MOM! Are you really going to kill Mia? Did you just say that?!” my son Alex shouted. “OPEN THIS DOOR!” I yelled, and to my surprise, Mia unlocked it. “Don’t you ever lock the door against me again! Do you understand?!” I scolded her.
Meanwhile, my husband, Jake, was trying to calm me down. “Just leave me alone!” I snapped back. “I do EVERYTHING for you people—and you treat me like garbage! Every single one of you!”
I know it sounds ridiculous—getting this upset over an eight-year-old changing the channel. But in reality, it wasn’t just about that. It was the cumulative effect of Mia’s defiance, the breakfast tantrum from Finn, and Alex’s sulking when I refused him an Instagram account (he’s ten, for crying out loud!). It’s the constant bickering, the endless “I want, I want” demands, and the apparent lack of willingness to help out around the house. Asking them to set the table or clean their rooms feels like asking them to perform brain surgery! Plus, with Jake being away so much, I often feel like I’m navigating this chaotic ship all on my own.
I’m not trying to justify my outburst this morning. I feel ashamed. I wish I could manage my emotions better. I know kids are just being kids; they don’t take their actions personally.
But some days, motherhood feels like a colossal “F*ck You.” This is why people say parenting is tough—not just because it’s intellectually or physically demanding (though it can be), but because it is incredibly emotionally draining. It often feels thankless. I pour so much of myself into my kids, and sometimes it seems like they hardly notice. I’m not seeking accolades or grand gestures of appreciation; I just want a little cooperation and respect for rules that are perfectly reasonable.
Admitting these feelings is hard; everyone loves to glorify motherhood, highlighting how fulfilling it is. Sure, there are moments of joy, but often, it’s a struggle. I think I’m writing this to connect with others who feel the same way, to avoid that isolating feeling of being alone in this chaotic journey.
After I dropped the kids off at school this morning, I realized Mia had forgotten her lunch at home. Guess who had to bundle Finn and Alex back into the car to deliver it? Yep, that’s what moms do.
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Summary
Motherhood often feels overwhelming and thankless, filled with daily challenges that can lead to emotional breakdowns. It’s not just about the little things—like a child changing the channel—but rather the accumulation of stressors that can feel insurmountable. Sharing these experiences can foster connection and understanding among mothers navigating similar struggles.
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