“Trust your instincts. You possess more knowledge than you realize.” — Adapted from Benjamin Spock
This topic is a challenging one to discuss. Many of you, like me, are parents in this age of oversharing. You know what I mean: the cheerful social media posts showcasing your child’s last day of school, the perfectly filtered family beach photos on Instagram, or the Tweet about the hilarious quip your toddler made this week. Even the less-than-stellar parenting moments often make their way online, usually with a humorous spin—like the family portrait featuring the one child with a frown, the status update about your kid’s unexpected run through the neighborhood, or your recounting of an evening that felt like an episode of a bad sitcom. I applaud you for finding the silver lining in those tough situations. I won’t take the time to correct the misconception about the definition of a vomitorium (FYI: it wasn’t a place for people to throw up).
People love sharing parenting fail tales, unless those failures cut too deep. The truly challenging times are rarely discussed unless they reach a level of catastrophe that makes headlines, and I’m not heading down that dark path today.
Instead, I’m referring to the genuine struggles that push our patience and resilience to their limits—those moments when you fervently hope your kids can forgive your occasional parenting missteps. You know those instances when you replay a recent meltdown in your mind while hiding out in the bathroom, tears streaming down your face.
Have you ever experienced that? When you begin to doubt everything you thought you knew about discipline, patience, or what constitutes “normal” child behavior? When the reality of parenting hits you hard, leaving you questioning your capabilities? And why does it seem like everyone else has it all together? Why does it feel like others navigate the world of parenting with ease and confidence, while you struggle? Real life doesn’t play out like an episode of “This Is Us” or “The Office,” where everything wraps up neatly in 30 minutes or a single season.
That can be an incredibly isolating experience. But I’ve learned that I’m not alone in feeling this way. Let me share how I discovered this.
A few weeks ago, I attended a group workout at my gym. Two out of the scheduled three participants showed up, so we began. After about 15 minutes, the third member arrived, smiling and apologizing for her tardiness. Within minutes, she broke down into tears and left the session.
When I saw her next, I inquired about her evening and how she was doing. She opened up about the struggles she was facing with her toddler: the meltdowns that occurred when she was getting ready to leave, her guilt over leaving him for an hour while she worked, and her constant exhaustion. I shared a few anecdotes about my own children’s meltdowns, but mostly, I listened. At the end of our talk, she said, “I had no idea others felt this way. I thought it was just me. Why don’t people talk about this more?” I didn’t have a definitive answer for her, as I’ve often pondered the same question. It just doesn’t seem to fit the happy, successful narrative we often portray in the era of oversharing.
For those who think I’m merely using another parent’s experience to hide behind, let me share a personal story of my own parenting misstep over the summer, which inspired this reflection. I was dining out with two other families: six adults and six kids aged 5 to 9. We had spent the entire day biking, playing at the beach, and swimming, all while battling extreme heat and humidity. Fatigue had settled over everyone after a lengthy wait in the restaurant lobby.
Once seated at the busy, noisy restaurant, we noticed delays in service. While the adults remained relatively calm, concern grew as it was past 7 p.m. and the kids were hungry. Then, my younger daughter, sitting next to me, began tapping my shoulder with a stream of complaints: “Mom, I want chocolate milk. Mom, I have to go potty. Mom, I want to draw another picture.” You get the picture.
I tried to respond calmly to her endless requests, but soon, things escalated. When her drink order arrived incorrectly, the tears filled her eyes, and her voice escalated as she exclaimed, “MOM! This is NOT what I WANT!”
In a moment of frustration, I snapped. Pointing at her, I shouted, “YOU! Stop it! NOW!” I startled not only my child but everyone nearby, including myself. The realization of how I had just handled the situation washed over me, feeling like the worst parent ever. I wanted to disappear under the table, questioning why my daughter was whining and why her sister had to respond so harshly. Did I instill this behavior in her?
Then, I caught “the look” from another parent at the table. She offered a reassuring half-smile and nod that seemed to convey, “It’s okay. They’re okay. We’re okay.” Although my kids were still upset and I felt terrible, I apologized for my outburst, and we pressed on—without laughter or sentimental resolutions.
In truth, we all strive to present our best selves, but we all have moments that aren’t our finest. Sometimes humor doesn’t cut it, and what we really need is a magic time machine to redo the last few minutes. Sadly, we don’t have access to one. So, what do we do in those instances? I may not have the perfect solution, but I do know that sharing our experiences helps. Empathy and honesty go a long way. We’re all in this together, and we can choose to struggle alone or reach out to our community for support.
Looking for more insights? Check out this other blog post on home insemination for more parenting tips and advice.
In summary, navigating parenthood today can often feel overwhelming, especially when it seems everyone else is thriving while you’re just trying to survive. Sharing both our triumphs and struggles can foster connection and understanding, reminding us we are all in this journey together.