Have you ever not recognized yourself? Not physically I mean, but your actions, attitudes?

On Tuesday night, one of our foster twins woke up crying in the middle of the night. We think maybe they have worse-than-average nightmares, because it is a rare night when one of them doesn’t wake up crying in the middle of the night. They fall asleep like champs most nights, but have a hard time staying asleep. Then, whoever is awake will often wake up at least one of the other three kids with the crying, and we all have a grand time. We’re really praying for this to work itself out. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?

She actually fell asleep fairly quickly this night, but the crying woke up our son. He proceeded, several minutes after I had climbed back into bed, to come into our room to see if we were awake too. Sooo, I had to go get him back to bed, which took a little bit.

When I finally crawled back between the warm covers in the cool bedroom, my brain was running full circuit. Don’t you hate that feeling? The one where your body is so tired, but your mind just won’t shut down, no matter what you do? I laid awake for almost two hours (trying not to look at the clock).

Anyway, without any more whining, suffice it to say that I was Tired with a capital T the next day. We had some errands to do, and the morning started off all right, but then we had some meltdowns at the grocery store. It wasn’t about whining for things they wanted, it was just tiredness (and probably boredom) coming out. A shoe falls off and it’s The End Of The World. A sibling inadvertently brushes their skin and it’s like they were stabbed. You might know the drill.

We made it home and ate lunch, but then naptime was rough. One twin was having none of this nap concept. She SCREAMED in her bed for a good forty-five minutes. She wanted the blanket, she didn’t want the blanket, she wanted her Minnie Mouse, she didn’t want her Minnie Mouse. When she finally fell asleep, the other must have decided it was her turn to make fun noises because she who had been lying quietly in her bed cried for twenty more minutes.

I was so ready for a nap.

I was not my most gracious self that day. I could completely tell that my tiredness was preventing any patient, understanding response I could have mustered. I was snappy and brusque with my words. I was quick to correct and admonish.

Fast forward 24-hours.

Being so tired that day, I fell asleep early and had a splendid night wherein, wonder of wonders, nobody woke up crying! Breakfast (for me) was a delicious egg white and Canadian bacon sandwich and fruit, with water (staying hydrated!) and a cup of tea. We played Mr. Potato Head, read some books, watched an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, took a walk up and down the block pushing strollers of baby dolls and riding scooters. Everyone played beautifully together and the naptime routine was a thing of beauty.

What was a huge factor in the change from one day to the next? Me.

I pondered this repeatedly today, and although I cannot claim complete responsibility for either the meltdown of Wednesday or the idyllic atmosphere of Thursday, I know I was a contributing force to both.

I had a professor who showed up every day for our 8:00 am class chipper and brimming with excitement over what the lesson held for us that day. When we asked her how she could have such energy, she told us something I never will forget: “I as the teacher set the tone in this room. If I’m having a bad day, you will have a bad day. And vice versa.”

What a lesson for us as parents. Our kids can sense our moods and emotions, whether we’re calm or whether we’re anxious. Our families are an interdependent organism, not isolated parts. When something is affecting one part of your body, your whole self feels out of sorts, right? For better or for worse, we as parents steer the direction of our family’s moods.

When the morning starts out rushed and frantic, the kids feel it. Whether they go to school or daycare or stay home with a parent, that negative energy stays with them. And it’s not just the kids. When your morning doesn’t start off right, it takes a lot to correct the trajectory and get back on course.

When the kids have to deal with an impatient, barking parent who has no time for understanding or showing compassion for their little ways, they deal with it as they are capable. Whether it means acting out behaviorally or having emotional meltdowns, it will show itself somehow.

Believe me, loving on four children under the age of five serves out many moments of stress. Someone is always needing something. They’re all still learning how to clean up after themselves. Only one can dress herself completely. It’s a lot to handle most days. (So rewarding, but a lot to handle.)

But.

I refuse to be the harried mother. My kids deserve better.

This will be my new quote, to repeat to myself when those life stressors start kicking in. The proverbial buck needs to stop here.

As we grow, we learn more how to control our actions. ACTIONS, not moods. We can’t control our moods, or the events that transpire to put us into those moods, but we can control how we react. Children have yet to learn that. As the adult, I need to remember this: I’m the one who can redirect the environment, who can stop my bad mood in its tracks if I try, but they aren’t capable of this yet.

I refuse to be the harried mother.

I will give my best moments to whomever I am with. Whether it be my husband, my kids, my friends, the person passing me down the aisle of the grocery store, they deserve my being present and being pleasant.

I will give my best moments at all times of day. Whether I’m fresh as a daisy or run-over-by-a-truck exhausted, whether it’s morning, afternoon, or bedtime, I will actively show the love that I know I have for my kids.

And when I don’t? I will ask for forgiveness. Not beat myself up. And start over.

Because not only are my kids watching and affected by my actions and moods, they are also learning from them. My behavior models what their “normal” will become. How I treat them will be how they will treat their children. How I treat others is how they will treat others. If I have kind answers, they will learn to be compassionate. If I have sarcastic, griping jests, they will learn that as well.

I want them to learn to put others before themselves, as imperfectly as we all accomplish this day to day. My parents always told me, “A mark of a mature person is that, no matter what their mood, they never use it as an excuse to treat anyone poorly.”

Because I will not be the harried mother. My family deserves better.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Angela Erickson

Born in Colorado, Angela married a handsome Texan and spend ten years living down in the South before recently moving back to her home state. She and her husband Kyle spent seven years fostering children in the state of Texas and have adopted four - three girls and a boy. She has served as a youth director and as a middle school teacher, and is currently enjoying a season of life as a full-time mama. Angela loves reading, writing, music, running, and spending time with family and friends. She is borderline addicted to puttering around on ancestry.com, and is also a enthusiastic anglophile. Her blog can be found at http://fosteringjourneys.blogspot.com/

Each Child You Raise is Unique

In: Kids, Motherhood
Three little boys under a blanket, black-and-white photo

The hardest part about raising children? Well, there’s a lot, but to me, one major thing is that they are all completely different than one another. Nothing is the same. Like anything. Ever. Your first comes and you basically grow up with them, you learn through your mistakes as well as your triumphs. They go to all the parties with you, restaurants, sporting events, traveling—they just fit into your life. You learn the dos and don’ts, but your life doesn’t change as much as you thought. You start to think Wow! This was easy, let’s have another. RELATED: Isn’t Parenting...

Keep Reading

Our Kids Need Us as Much as We Need Them

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sitting on bench with dog nearby, color photo

During a moment of sadness last week, my lively and joyful toddler voluntarily sat with me on the couch, holding hands and snuggling for a good hour. This brought comfort and happiness to the situation. At that moment, I realized sometimes our kids need us, sometimes we need them, and sometimes we need each other at the same time. Kids need us. From the moment they enter the world, infants express their needs through tiny (or loud) cries. Toddlers need lots of cuddling as their brains try to comprehend black, white, and all the colors of the expanding world around...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

This Time In the Passenger Seat is Precious

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Teen driver with parent in passenger seat

When you’re parenting preteens and teens, it sometimes feels like you are an unpaid Uber driver. It can be a thankless job. During busy seasons, I spend 80 percent of my evenings driving, parking, dropping off, picking up, sitting in traffic, running errands, waiting in drive-thru lines. I say things like buckle your seat belt, turn that music down a little bit, take your trash inside, stop yelling—we are in the car, keep your hands to yourself, don’t make me turn this car around, get your feet off the back of the seat, this car is not a trash can,...

Keep Reading

So God Made My Daughter a Wrestler

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young female wrestler wearing mouth guard and wrestling singlet

God made my girl a wrestler. Gosh, those are words I would never have thought I would say or be so insanely proud to share with you. But I am. I know with 100 percent certainty and overwhelming pride that God made my girl a wrestler. But it’s been a journey. Probably one that started in the spring of 2010 when I was pregnant with my first baby and having the 20-week anatomy ultrasound. I remember hearing the word “girl” and squealing. I was over the moon excited—all I could think about were hair bows and cute outfits. And so...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

You May Be a Big Brother, but You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with young son, color photo

It seems like yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital. Back then, we were new parents, clueless but full of love—a love that words can hardly explain. I can vividly recall holding you in my arms, rocking you in the cutest nursery, and singing sweet lullabies, just like yesterday. I can picture those times when you were teeny-tiny, doing tummy time, and how proud I was of you for lifting your head. And oh, the happiness on your face when “Baby Shark” played over and over—that song always made you smile! We made sure to capture your growth...

Keep Reading

“It Looks and Tastes Like Candy.” Mom Shares Warning about THC Gummies All Parents Need to Hear

In: Kids, Living, Teen
Hand holding bottle of THC gummies

What Aimee Larsen first thought was a stomach bug turned out to be something much more terrifying for her young son. Her 9-year-old woke up one day last week seeming “lethargic, barely able to stand or speak,” his mom shared in a Facebook post. At first, she assumed he had a virus, but something about his behavior just didn’t seem right. She called an ambulance and asked her older sons if their brother might have gotten into something, like cough syrup or another over-the-counter medicine. Their answer? “Yeah, THC gummies.” THC gummies are an edible form of cannabis that contain...

Keep Reading

My Child with Special Needs Made His Own Way in His Own Time

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hand walking across street

I want to tell you the story of a little boy who came to live with me when he was three years old. Some of you may find this story familiar in your own life. Your little boy or girl may have grown inside you and shares your DNA or maybe they came into your life much older than three. This little boy, this special child, my precious gift has special needs. Just five short years ago, he was a bit mean and angry, he said few understandable words, and there was a lot about this world he didn’t understand. Unless...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter as You Grow into Yourself

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Girl in hat and dress-up clothes, color photo

My daughter, I watched you stand in front of the mirror, turning your body left and right. Your skirt was too big and your top on backward. Your bright blue eyeshadow reached your eyebrows and bold red blush went up to your ears. You didn’t care. I watched you marvel at your body, feeling completely at ease in your skin. You turned and admired yourself with pride. You don’t see imperfections. You don’t see things you are lacking. You see goodness. You see strength. RELATED: Daughter, When You Look in the Mirror, This is What I Hope You See I’m...

Keep Reading