I’m feeling drained. I get it; that may not seem like a valid excuse when you’re a mom, but let’s be real—what mom isn’t running on empty? There are moments when my exhaustion runs so deep it impacts my ability to be the kind of nurturing mother I aspire to be.
After a long day that starts before sunrise, filled with the delightful chaos of my three little rascals, and then juggling work and all the adult responsibilities that come with it, I often find myself facing my boys around 5:30 PM, ready to dive into the evening madness. It’s during these times that my patience can wear thin.
When my boys start racing around, playfully slapping each other’s backsides and making jokes about silly things, instead of enjoying the moment, I sometimes lose my cool. As I try to convince three tiny humans to eat their dinner, I feel frustration bubbling up. And when it’s time for bath, and they turn into a whirlwind of energy, I often feel my smile fade and a bit of my momster side emerge. By the time they’re finally in bed and pop their adorable faces out for the umpteenth time, I may find myself raising my voice.
In those moments, my philosophy of cherishing every second flies right out the window. I realize that not only am I not savoring these moments, but I’m actually wishing them away.
This isn’t a constant state for me. If I’m honest, most of the time I genuinely treasure my boys and their wild, uninhibited spirits. But there are days when I feel like I might just pull my hair out. Days when I think I could lose the little sanity I have left. Those are the days when one more loud shout or my kids pretending they can’t hear me might just push me over the edge.
I promised myself I wouldn’t yell. It’s annoying and counterproductive. Yet, here I am, on some days, raising my voice. Why?
Because they’re having too much fun. Because they’re playing too loudly. Because they’re too immersed in their joy to hear me asking for just one more bite of broccoli. And because I’m too drained to manage it, so I resort to yelling instead.
Finding the right balance between allowing our children to enjoy life and ensuring they listen to us is crucial. There’s a time and place for everything, and while I love to join in their fun, sometimes I need them to remember that they have ears for a reason.
But is yelling really solving anything? Is my frustration helping? Not at all.
In fact, my boys usually just laugh when that happens. It reassures me that I’m not damaging them, but it also highlights how pointless losing my temper can be—like trying to sit a hyperactive toddler at a table when all they want to do is play.
I’ve learned that establishing a routine is essential for us, but we must carve out time for play in our evenings. They need that connection, and I’ve realized I need it too. On the nights I set aside my to-do list to engage with my boys, everything seems to flow better. Time feels suspended, and clarity returns. I remember that it’s not them causing the chaos; it’s me.
It’s not about them—it’s about me.
I’m the one stressed out and too tired to engage. I’m the one who lets trivial worries overshadow what truly matters.
So, my dear boys,
I apologize. It’s not you; it’s me.
Moms aren’t perfect. We give it our all, but we falter, we snap when we should be laughing, and we yell when we should whisper. We join in your chaos instead of providing the calm you need. We mess up.
Your childhood joys and rambunctious energy are not my burden; they’re your right. You’re meant to run wild, laugh at silly things, and embrace every moment. That’s your role, and mine is to help guide you toward balance. But honestly, I think you’re the ones teaching me how to find it.
Thank you for that. It’s not you; it’s me.
For more insights on family life and resources, check out this excellent article on IVF and home insemination or explore our other blog post about the journey of parenthood. And if you’re looking for guidance on self-insemination, Cryobaby has some amazing resources.
Summary:
In the life of a mom, exhaustion is a common theme, and sometimes it can lead to frustration with our children. The author reflects on the challenges of parenting while balancing the joys and chaos that come with it. She acknowledges that while she strives to cherish every moment with her boys, moments of stress can lead to impatience and even yelling. Ultimately, she recognizes that the key to harmony lies in being present and engaged with them, rather than letting her own fatigue overshadow their joyful spirits.