Total. Mom. Fail.
I completely lost my cool with my kids. I have a 5-year-old boy who has the mouth of a teenager, and a 2-year-old boy who embodies the very essence of “Terrible Twos”. Has since he started walking. At 9 months old. I stay home with my children (I haven’t always, this is fairly recent and a huge adjustment for all of us). And, I would love to tell you I love every minute and I’m so happy to stay home and I just enjoy being with my kids 24/7. But the truth is that’s not true. The truth is, while I love my children with every fiber of my being, I do not enjoy every day. Some days they drive me to the brink of insanity.
This was one of those days. The oldest one could not keep his mouth shut. The little one was destroying everything in sight. My house was a complete disaster. I’m talking hurricane aftermath level of destroyed. And they just would not clean it up. I asked them to pick up toys and they looked at me. I asked them to put their shoes away and received a blank stare. Asking them to move at all was an assault on their character and they reached a level of crazy I had not experienced.
I went psycho mom. So much so that my husband heard me yelling (he was outside) and came inside to see what the problem was. I yelled. Screamed. Cried. I was, simply put done. Done with kids, done with my house. Done.
My husband (bless him) was somehow able to make them pick up their things and do whatever else it was I couldn’t make them do. Meanwhile, I went into my bedroom and cried. Why can’t I be one of those moms who does Bible studies with their kids? I want to be the mom who gets it right, at least 5 days a week, and who loves staying home. I’d love to practice peaceful parenting and never yell at my kids. They hate me. I ruined them. This is literally my internal dialogue as I sit and think of all the ways I failed my kids. Of all the times I messed up as a mom. And, sadly, how broken they would be as adults because I stink at being a mom. (I like to keep it real, y’all).
After my pity party, I finally went back to the real world. I calmed down, the kids calmed down. Baths, pajamas, and a couple hours later my little one comes up to me and says, “hold me, mama”. So sweet, that one, when he wants to be. Then, as I’m tucking the older one in he says, “I love you, Mommy. You’re the greatest Mommy in the whole wide world.” I quickly kissed him good night and rushed out of the room to hide the tears. The happy tears. Tears that let me know my kids didn’t hate me.
I learned an important lesson that day.
I’m going to fail as a mom. A lot. But, if we are honest, we know we aren’t perfect. I also know that, at the end of the day, if my kids are fed and provided for, that’s a lot more than most kids get. And if I do my best to show them every day how much I love them, they’ll be alright. It’s not about never yelling, or never crying, but it’s about showing them they’re important. Letting them know you care. I learned that my kids know I’m not perfect, but somehow I’m the best, and that’s good enough for me.