Yesterday was a tough day with my toddler. Yes, I’m admitting it. Her new teeth were breaking through, leaving her gums tender and sore. Drool dripped onto our furniture, soaked our sleeves, and smeared across every surface she touched. When she wasn’t busy exploring, her cries of discomfort echoed through the house. Distractions were fleeting at best. Encouraging her to practice walking felt like trying to train a slippery little seal. I watched her squirm on the floor, her head thrown back and her back arched in a dramatic curve.
Taking her to an outdoor music concert was a misguided attempt at fun. We thought the fresh air would soothe her, but we were wrong. Surrounded by lively crowds, tempting snacks, and the loud bluegrass music just a few feet away, it didn’t take long for her stubbornness to kick in. She was determined to climb the steps of the mini-amphitheater, one shaky step at a time. Those steps, littered with old cigarette butts and bits of gravel, soon became her new accessories.
After a tiring round of stair climbing, she let out a wail of disapproval, her face contorted in frustration. Strapping her into her stroller became a two-person challenge, one of us holding her flailing limbs while the other secured her as quickly as possible. As we shuffled out of the amphitheater, I could feel the stares from other parents boring into us.
Her cries continued in the car, transforming our back seat into a wrestling ring as we struggled with her car seat. But just five minutes later, she fell silent, finally drifting off to sleep. Her rosy cheeks glowed in the afternoon sun, and tears streamed down my face—tears of exhaustion, fear of failing as a parent, and guilt for feeling overwhelmed. I caught myself thinking thoughts I never wanted to admit: I hate being a mom. I hate these moments with my daughter. Was having a child a mistake?
Yet, deep down, my love for her is immeasurable. I can’t fathom a life without her, even as I long for the simplicity of my pre-parenting days—filled with peaceful evenings and uninterrupted conversations with my husband. I found myself wondering why we made this choice, guilt consuming me for having such selfish thoughts.
But today was different. My toddler woke up cheerful and playful, greeting the day with giggles. She brushed her teeth without a fuss and played quietly in her pen. She didn’t resist the clothes we picked for her or the car seat, and she walked around with her crib, waving “Hi!” in the cutest way.
Today was a reminder of my capabilities as a mother. Dinner was peaceful as she savored her grilled cheese and corn, and my husband and I shared full conversations—something that had been rare lately. Today rekindled my understanding of why we chose to expand our family. Her radiant smile melted my heart, and splashing in the bath brought infectious laughter that filled the room. Sitting on the floor, our faces close together, we shared joyful moments.
Today reinvigorated my sense of happiness. I may not be the same person I was two years ago, but I’ve evolved into a better version of myself, filled with more patience, compassion, and love. Surviving another long day with a toddler asserting her independence is proof of my growth. I am a role model for this little girl, guiding her with my actions and providing the love she needs for her happiness and security. I am a mother.
Not every day will be smooth or even tolerable, but I have learned to embrace the chaos, allow my emotions to flow, and then pick myself up for another day. I know there will be more challenging days ahead, but if we hang on tight, the joyful moments will fill my heart with the happiness I crave.
So while yesterday was tough, it was a necessary part of the journey. After a good night’s rest, I woke up ready to face the next cycle of ups and downs. Yesterday I struggled with my toddler; today, I didn’t. Yet, through it all, my love for her remains unwavering.
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Summary:
This article reflects the candid thoughts of a mother navigating the ups and downs of parenting a toddler. It highlights the challenges of difficult days, the struggles of maintaining patience, and the eventual joy found in motherhood. Through self-reflection, the author recognizes her growth and ability to embrace the chaos while cherishing the precious moments with her child.