I vividly recall the last time I lost my cool. My kids and I had just come back from school when I snapped, “Go to your rooms!” The tone of my voice was harsh, unrecognizable even to me. “Now!”
What followed were tears and quiet protests. I raised my hands in frustration, my voice escalating. “I don’t want to hear it! Just go!”
You might think I’m a cruel, heartless person from this account, but that’s far from the truth. If you met me in passing, I’d likely smile and let you cut in line. I’ve always preferred harmony over conflict. So, when my kids misbehave, I often choose to let things slide.
However, this facade of calm comes with its own challenges. The anger and frustration I suppress in my quest for serenity don’t disappear—they linger, like a heavy weight in my chest. Everyday parenting annoyances—like the constant bickering, the whining, and the Play-Doh stuck in the carpet—compound these feelings until they explode.
That afternoon, I transformed into “Angry, Mean Mom.” The morning had already been chaotic, with the girls arguing so much they nearly missed the bus. On our car ride home, peace lasted only 47 seconds before my oldest daughter did something to irk her sister, who then responded by shrieking like a parrot on caffeine. The shrill sound pierced through me, triggering a headache and prompting my decision: I wasn’t going to deal with it today.
After shouting at the kids to retreat to their rooms, I paced the kitchen, waiting for my partner to come home. When he walked through the door, I declared, “I just can’t handle this right now.” I grabbed my keys and drove aimlessly until I found a parking lot where I sat with the engine running, fuming and flipping the radio on and off, tears threatening to spill. As the sky darkened, my breathing steadied, and the weight in my chest began to lift. Eventually, I made my way home.
Upon my return, my daughters ran up to me with hugs and apologies, handing me a card that read, “Dear Mama, we’re sorry we were notty.” In that moment, my anger evaporated. I apologized for raising my voice and explained why their fighting affected me so deeply: it saddened me to see them argue because I knew how much they cared for one another. We discussed the importance of respecting each other’s feelings and personal space. They promised to improve, and I hoped they would—at least for a while.
Do I think it would be wise to express my frustrations more openly, rather than letting them simmer? Absolutely. I’m working on that. However, I also realize there’s no single correct way to navigate the complex emotions of motherhood. Each day, we strive to balance the need for peace with our own mental well-being. I once believed that perfect mothers always had everything together and instilled discipline without ever losing their cool. Now, I understand that a mom who is perpetually calm and collected is as real as unicorns and husbands who never leave their socks on the floor—simply non-existent.
Whether you experience a meltdown every day or just once a year, it doesn’t make you a monster. Sometimes, these outbursts are necessary to return to a baseline of calm, allowing us to breathe and ensuring our feelings are acknowledged. They remind our children that we are not infallible, that their actions can deeply affect others, and that adults grapple with strong emotions just like kids do. If we embrace it, the aftermath of a meltdown can serve as a valuable opportunity to reconnect with our loved ones and reinforce how we wish to be treated.
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Summary
Experiencing a mom meltdown is a natural part of parenting. While it can feel overwhelming, these moments can serve as reminders of our humanity and allow for important discussions with our children about emotions and respect. Recognizing that perfection is unattainable can help alleviate some of the pressure of motherhood.