I think I might have had a mini meltdown today. Some might call me dramatic, suggesting that this is just part of being a parent. But I’m not like everyone else—I’m me. I adore my son, yet there are moments when I really don’t want to be a mom, feeling like this isn’t what I signed up for. That’s my reality and it’s tough.
What Happened Today
Let me share what happened. My son is clearly in the process of giving up his afternoon nap, and I am so not ready for this. Those two to three hours in the afternoon are essential for me. When they’re gone, I turn into a grump—just ask my husband; he’ll confirm! Lately, my son has been napping only every few days, and those are the days our nanny comes. Typical! We do have “quiet time,” where he must stay in his room, whether he sleeps or not. If he doesn’t fall asleep, he usually just looks at books, but sometimes he gets out and makes a mess. Those afternoons? I dread them. Just yesterday was one of those days.
When I went to fetch him after his not-so-quiet time, I discovered he was naked from the waist down—no pants, no pull-up. I’d seen this on the monitor but hadn’t anticipated what he shouted the moment I opened the door: “Mommy, I poopied on the floor! I poopied here, here, and there. And I peed here.” Oh my goodness! My toddler had taken off his pants and diaper and had an accident on the rug. As I entered, he was attempting to clean up the mess with wipes, mimicking what we do if our dog has an accident. How sweet, right? Should I be proud of his cleaning efforts? He was laughing hysterically while I was trying to keep it together.
He’s never done this before. We are in the midst of potty training, and he refuses to poop in the potty, timing it instead for when he’s asleep—meaning it stays in his diaper.
“Go sit on the chair,” I told him. “Nooooo!” Bad idea. I quickly corrected myself—no sitting! His behind was covered in mess. I settled for having him sit on the changing table while I cleaned him up. After I got him dressed, I stepped outside his room to tackle the mess.
I swear, every time I picked up one piece of poop, another seemed to magically appear. I changed the sheets, tossed everything into the washing machine, and broke out the carpet cleaner—all while feeling like a zombie. I probably looked like I was completely drained. I didn’t lash out. I didn’t yell. I didn’t shame him. When he asked if I was happy, I was honest and said I was sad, explaining that pooping and peeing should only happen in the potty or, if he’s wearing one, in a diaper. He seemed to get it and promised he wouldn’t do it again, saying that then I would be happy.
Finding a Moment of Calm
Now I’m on the couch, with Daniel Tiger entertaining my little one. We can move on, but I’m still a bit shaken. I texted a mom friend to vent, calling myself dramatic. She reassured me that I’m normal and that cleaning up poop is no small feat. Thank goodness for mom friends who keep it real!
I remain on the couch for what feels like ages. My husband should be home any minute. Meanwhile, my son has turned the family room into a disaster zone, and I’m just sitting there, cross-legged, staring blankly ahead. I’m having flashbacks of postpartum struggles. Can that come back, even two years later? I should reach out to my therapist; maybe I need to reconnect.
Finally, my husband arrives. He jumps in to tidy up the mess in the family room, knowing it will make his slightly OCD wife feel better. He talks to our son, gives me a kiss on the head, and whisks us off for pizza and wine. By the time we get home, I’m feeling much better, playing and laughing with my son.
Embracing the Journey
I realize that for some moms—even those I know—this wouldn’t be as big of a deal. But I am who I am, and I won’t apologize for it. I can’t help but worry that this could become a new habit for my son, and I keep reminding myself I didn’t sign up for this! But then again, I did sign up for this. I chose to have a child and became a mom. It’s all part of the journey. It won’t always be easy, and I’m not always great at handling the tough moments. That’s the reality I face every day—my struggle. And yes, the struggle is real!
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Summary
This article captures the chaotic reality of parenting, highlighting a particularly challenging day for a mother grappling with her son’s potty training milestones and an unexpected mess. It reflects on the emotional toll of parenting while acknowledging that every mom has her struggles. The author’s honesty and vulnerability offer a relatable perspective for parents navigating similar situations.