I’ll be honest—I’m worn out. As a mom, I know this isn’t an uncommon feeling, yet there are days when that fatigue digs so deep that it hinders my ability to be the nurturing mother I aspire to be. After a long day that starts before sunrise, filled with the chaos of three lively kids, work responsibilities, and the endless demands of adulthood, I find myself at a breaking point by the time evening rolls around.
When my kids start their nightly antics—running around, playfully hitting each other, and making wild, silly comments—I sometimes struggle to maintain my patience. Instead of embracing the joy of their playful spirits, I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside me. When I’m attempting to coax them to eat their dinner, only to be met with resistance, or when I try to guide them toward bath time and they transform into a whirlwind of energy, my composure can fade quickly. And by the time I finally tuck them into bed, if they pop back out for the umpteenth time, I sometimes lose my cool and raise my voice.
In those moments, my ideal of cherishing every instance of motherhood often gets overshadowed by a desire for peace and quiet. I find myself wishing for the chaos to end instead of embracing the beautiful mess of family life.
This isn’t a constant state for me. More often than not, I do treasure my children’s vibrant energy and their joyful innocence. Yet there are days when the weight of motherhood feels almost unbearable. It’s on those days that I feel like I might just lose what little sanity I have left. With every loud shout or instance of my kids pretending they can’t hear me, I feel a pull toward frustration and exhaustion.
I had vowed to never be the mom who yells. It feels so unproductive and counterintuitive. Yet, here I am, admitting that I sometimes do yell. Why? Because they’re having too much fun. Because their laughter is so loud that it drowns out my pleas for them to finish their meals. Because I’m too drained to handle the chaos, and my instinct is to raise my voice instead of taking a deep breath.
Finding a balance between encouraging their joyful play and instilling a sense of responsibility is crucial. Sure, there’s a time for everything, and while I love to join in on the fun, I also need my kids to listen when I ask them to do something. However, I’ve come to realize that yelling rarely resolves anything. Instead, it often elicits laughter from my boys, which reassures me that I’m not damaging them irreparably, but also reminds me that losing my temper is as futile as trying to get a hyper toddler to sit still for a meal.
Establishing a routine has proven beneficial for our family. Yet, it’s essential to weave playtime into our evening schedule. I need to engage with my kids, to be present and enjoy those fleeting moments with them. On nights when I manage to do this, everything seems to flow more smoothly. Time feels like it stands still, and I remember that my children are not the problem; I am.
So, to my little ones, I apologize. It’s not you; it’s me. Moms aren’t perfect, and we make mistakes. We sometimes react when we should embrace, and we yell when we should whisper. The stresses of adulthood are not your burden, and it’s not your responsibility to be calm and quiet all the time. Your job is to play, laugh, and enjoy childhood.
And perhaps, in helping you find balance in life, you’re actually guiding me to discover my own balance as well. So thank you, dear ones. It’s not you; it’s me.
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