Today, I’m ready to admit that motherhood is a challenge, and I can’t manage it the same way anymore. Last night, my little one decided that 3 a.m. was the optimal time for a TV marathon, and it took me over an hour to convince him otherwise. At our Mommy and Me class, he nearly dashed into a parking lot filled with school buses. Afterward, he lay on the floor in tears because the teacher skipped his favorite song, “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.”
The after-school pickup for my 8-year-old is always a whirlwind. His teachers rave about how well-behaved he is, but the moment he spots me, all his pent-up frustrations from the day come rushing out. He bounded from school, slammed his backpack into my stomach, and complained that I had forgotten his chocolate milk. Then, without missing a beat, he tossed his coat into my arms and sprinted off to the playground.
Both of my boys had a blast playing outside, scaling trees, chasing balls, and racing up slides. They were great with their friends—sharing snacks and catching anyone who stumbled. I adore watching them enjoy the vibrant autumn day; their laughter brings me joy.
But when it was time to leave, the mood shifted. My older son insisted we leave immediately, while my younger one was reluctant to go. It turned into a tug-of-war, with my older son yanking on his brother’s jacket. I intervened, threatening to take away screen time as a last resort. Eventually, through bribery, I persuaded them to leave, but the walk home was just as chaotic. My older son corrected everything his brother said while the little one darted ahead, nearly running into oncoming traffic.
Typically, I have compassion for their antics. I know they’re just kids—good kids—and I feel fortunate to have them. I realize it’s healthy for them to express their big feelings with me, their trusted mom. I usually let them cry on my shoulder or test boundaries, but today was different. Today, I felt overwhelmed and resentful of every moment of motherhood. I wanted to feel valued too.
When we got home, I resolved to change that. I thought, “Enough is enough.” The boys flung their shoes off in the hallway, and I calmly but firmly instructed them to put them on the shoe rack. I wasn’t raising my voice; I was asserting myself.
My older son protested, but my younger one knew when I meant business and complied. Afterward, my older son leaned into me with a grin, revealing his crooked teeth, and asked for a bagel and lemonade. I stopped him, saying, “Okay, get the toaster down and a cup from the cupboard.” He looked at me as if I had lost my mind and whined, “I’m tired.” I understood that feeling; most days, I’d give in and prepare his snack.
But today, I simply replied, “I’m tired too, and I need your help.” He hesitated but eventually pulled a stool over to grab a cup and crouched down for the toaster.
This pattern continued when I asked him to take out his homework and lunchbox. He protested a bit but ultimately did it. My younger son wanted a bagel too and whined for it. I prompted him to ask nicely, to which he responded with a sweet, “Pweeze?” His big green eyes sparkled.
Before long, my older son was sharing stories about his day while adjusting the toaster settings and assisting his younger brother. They were laughing together, and I felt a sense of connection. My older son even inquired about a story I had just published, while my younger one gently stroked my hair. They were being helpful and kind, and I felt respected.
I know I usually strive for cooperation and have rules in place, but often it feels easier to let things slide or lose my temper. Today, however, I prioritized my own needs. I’m a woman and their mother, and my feelings are just as important as theirs.
By expressing my needs and asking for help, I wasn’t issuing commands or enforcing rules. I laid bare what I needed from them, and to my surprise, they listened. They showed care and appreciation for all the love I give them daily.
If I don’t find fulfillment in parenting, neither will my children. So from now on, I’m going to ensure my voice is heard. I’ll share my feelings, ask for assistance, and embrace my humanity. I’ll remain their devoted mom—the one who comforts them, prepares their snacks, and does it all—while still honoring my own needs and feelings.
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Summary:
Motherhood can be overwhelming, but it’s essential for mothers to express their feelings and needs. By asking for help and asserting themselves, moms can foster cooperation and respect from their children, leading to a healthier family dynamic.