The morning began like any other. I rose before my partner and kids, squeezed in a brief workout, and took a quick shower. I had high hopes for the day: to remain patient and calm, to go with the flow, and to keep my cool.
After packing lunches for the kids, feeding the dogs, and reminding my little ones to brush their teeth and clean the bathroom counter, I faced the inevitable mess of dog poop in the living room. Ugh. Deep breaths. Stay composed.
As I checked my email and scrolled through social media, I was met with a mix of humblebragging posts, alarming news about the state of the world, and a few harsh comments on my latest update. Let it go, I told myself. More deep breaths.
While unloading the dishwasher, I noticed chipped dishes and a trail of ants scurrying behind the coffee machine, courtesy of a forgotten yogurt container. Why can’t anyone in this household pick up after themselves? Why does it always fall on me? And really, why are there so many ants?
“Could you please brush your teeth and clean the bathroom counter?” I asked my kids again. My partner gently reminded me that he had a work event, meaning I was on my own for the evening chaos of homework, dinner, and bedtime. Deep breaths again.
Amidst the clamor of my kids bickering over the last Eggo waffle, I stepped on a stray Lego and had to dodge dirty socks scattered across the kitchen floor.
“Brush your teeth,” I urged. “Wipe down the counter.”
The kids continued their loud debate over that waffle. The phone rang, and our dogs began barking — no, howling — drowning out any chance of quiet. My blood pressure began to rise. My mind raced with anxiety, triggered by worries over our latest credit card bill, the car’s broken tail light, and a tense chat with a relative. All the messes — so many messes — led to spiraling thoughts about finances, vacation plans, and my kids’ school challenges until finally…
“CAN YOU TWO JUST STOP YELLING FOR ONE MINUTE AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU? DO YOU EVEN LISTEN?! NO! WHY DOES NO ONE LISTEN TO ME? GO NOW!”
The silence that followed was deafening. I stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door, feeling both relieved and remorseful after my outburst.
What is it about motherhood that triggers such tension and anger in me? Despite my generally easygoing nature, I feel like I can transform from a calm mom to a raging tornado in an instant.
Sometimes it’s the sheer disarray of life with young kids that gets to me. Nothing is ever in order. Every surface seems to have fingerprints or paint smudges. I’ve cleaned up more messes than I could have ever imagined.
Other times, anxiety ignites the fury. Financial worries, work-related stress, and the constant fear of minor inconveniences can escalate into overwhelming dread.
Too little sleep and a racing mind also contribute to my mood swings. But mostly, it’s the chaos and unpredictability of motherhood that sends me into a tailspin. When everything feels out of control, it becomes too much to bear.
I don’t want to be this way, of course. No one does. I’ve taken steps to manage my feelings: I see a therapist, take anti-anxiety medication, and remind myself to breathe deeply and let go. I practice self-care and make time for exercise. Sometimes these strategies work, and other times they don’t.
I cherish my relationship with my kids, but I worry about how these rare but intense outbursts affect them. Will they remember their childhood as one filled with anger? I hope not.
A friend of mine often recalls the sounds of cupboard slamming from his youth. His mom is a wonderful parent, and they share a close bond, yet those memories linger. I want my kids to remember laughter, hugs, and love, not the chaos.
So how do I — how do we, since I know I’m not alone in this — break the cycle of tension, anger, and guilt?
I’m no expert, but I believe understanding the roots of our anger is a crucial first step. For many, feelings of rage stem from anxiety or depression. Sometimes, it’s the everyday stresses that we let spiral out of control. Societal expectations on parents, particularly mothers, can add to the pressure and exhaustion. Occasionally, we simply lose our cool because we’re all imperfect beings navigating a challenging journey.
Once we identify the causes, we can seek help. For me, therapy and medication have been game changers. Even with these tools, I still slip up. I still yell. It’s an ongoing journey. I’m continuously learning to embrace the chaos instead of trying to control everything. Understanding my triggers — clutter, work stress, insecurities — allows me to tackle those issues instead of lashing out over misplaced toys.
I may not fully grasp why motherhood makes me feel so tense and angry at times, but I’m committed to making changes. Because despite the anxiety, frustration, and anger that can swell, the love I have for my children is far greater. That’s the legacy I want them to remember.
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