As a Mom, how long does it take you before you yell/cry? At what moment do you lose your cool? Is it the first time your toddler tells you, “‘No” or is it the tenth? Is it when both kids are crying and you accidentally drop a glass on the kitchen floor? Is it when the toddler wakes the finally sleeping baby or is it when the baby wakes the finally sleeping toddler?
Do you know your breaking point?
We all have our breaking points and mine varies. Some days I have so much patience I wish I could share it with the struggling Moms of the world. Other days… well not so much. I know that I am not alone in feeling like this, which can be comforting. However, I just don’t know how to personally navigate through this time in my life. My stress levels are so high that it’s affecting my health and my relationships with others.
What do you do when you feel like you can’t keep your head above water? Just when I think I’ve got it together, I start sinking. I snap at my daughter for something silly like talking with her pacifier in her mouth. Then she gets mad and tosses her paci across the room so I put her in time out. She screams while in time out for a good thirty minutes. But then, when she has calmed down, she tells me she loves me. She apologizes. And I cry.
I cry because I hate that for the last half hour I’ve felt like my head is going to explode from stress and frustration. I cry because I hate that my daughter has such a bad temper – which is sadly something she has inherited from both of her parents. I cry because I feel like a bad Mom for snapping at her in the first place. I cry because I want to be a better Mom. I cry because I want my daughters to know I am trying my absolute hardest. I cry because even when I’ve reached my breaking point, I want them to know I always love them with all my heart and soul.
Maybe these feelings are normal. Maybe I am having a little bit of postpartum depression going on. Either way, I am acknowledging I’m not 100%. They say there is no way to be a perfect mother, but I wonder why I doubt myself. I question why this all feels so hard and why I cry. We all have different breaking points and maybe feeling imperfect means I am human. As long as my children are safe, fed, clothed, and loved deeply, I must be doing a good job, right?