Updated: Feb. 5, 2016
Originally Published: Dec. 13, 2015
At times, motherhood can feel deceptively simple. I find myself riding the wave of calm days, almost convinced I’m nailing this parenting thing. The chaotic moments fade into the background as I enjoy sweet interactions with my children, and I begin to question what other moms mean by “failing.” Is it really that bad if dinner consists of hot dogs, or if I let a cartoon babysit for a while? But then, reality strikes, and I’m jolted back to the truth of my imperfections.
Just today, for instance, my preschooler woke up in a whiny mood, speaking in that high-pitched tone reminiscent of his favorite cartoon character. I crawled into bed beside him, showering him with morning cuddles and kisses, the joys of being a stay-at-home mom shining through. When he proposed a playful gunfight, I was eager to join in. Yet, I quickly realized I wasn’t quite getting it right—I wasn’t crouching low enough or making the correct sounds. His complaints began to wear on me, and I decided to step away to reclaim my sanity.
Throughout the day, I tried to maintain a balance between validating his feelings and detaching from his negativity. It’s a delicate dance, allowing him to express himself without absorbing his frustrations. I offered extra hugs, probing for the root of his tough day, while reminding myself that everyone has their off moments. However, as the hours dragged on, I felt myself unraveling.
By 3 p.m., the whining continued, and despite my best intentions, I snapped, “All you do is whine! I can’t take it anymore!” I had aimed for warmth, but my control was slipping. My son called me “rude,” which stung, especially since I had been the one losing my cool. He wanted to go to the store for a My Little Pony coloring book, insisting on “Right now!”
In a moment of frustration, I slammed the dishwasher shut with such force that a glass shattered inside. I could hear the sound of breaking glass echoing behind me as I stepped outside, declaring that I needed a moment to breathe. His cries of “Noooo!” tugged at my heart, but I returned inside only to scold him for coming too close to the danger.
When he asked for a hug, I refused, caught in my own whirlwind of anger. Did I want him to feel scared, or was I just giving in to the angry urges bubbling inside me? I recognized that familiar, irrational part of myself—the one that had emerged during postpartum days, sharp and reactive. I hate that side of me, knowing it leads to a painful aftermath of shame and regret.
I felt ashamed for not being the mother my son needs—a patient guide who stays calm and loving, especially when tensions rise. I pictured my children growing up, mirroring my behavior, and I feared they would end up in therapy recounting tales of their frustrated mother.
But wait, that wasn’t my only misstep today. In my frustration, I tried to force my son to eat a yogurt, insisting he couldn’t leave until he finished it. My exhaustion from the constant demands overwhelmed me, and I yelled at him to eat, even as guilt washed over me.
Eventually, I gathered him in my arms like a newborn, apologizing for my behavior. His sweet response melted my heart, as he said, “It’s OK. I’m sorry I had a bad day too.” We talked about love and forgiveness, reminding each other that we are a family.
We ventured outside, where I carried him in a backpack carrier, yearning for closeness. Despite the rain, he whispered “I love you” into my ear, and in that moment, I felt the weight start to lift from my heart. Mistakes are part of this journey, but it’s how we respond that truly matters. My children need to know that perfection isn’t necessary; what’s important is learning from our missteps. I only truly fail if I don’t take away any lessons from today.
For further insights on parenting and the journey of home insemination, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. Remember, embracing our imperfections allows us to model resilience for our children, turning failures into growth opportunities.