Our Biggest Sale of the Year Ends Today!🎄 ➔

Days
Hours
Minutes
Seconds

Dear kids,

I’m sorry I yelled. But in my defense, ya’ll got me so stressed it’s the only outlet I have before I spontaneously combust from holding it all in.

I know you’re tired and cranky. I am, too.

So when I ask you to pick up your Hot Wheels for the 76th time and you continue to dance around clucking like a chicken, I lose my crap. Then when you melt into a puddle of snot because I yelled, I can only step over you and your Hot Wheels and move on to the next mess cause momma ain’t got time for this.

I have daycare pickup, cheer carpool, football carpool, carpool for carpools. You want a last-minute ride to a friend’s house? Sure, load up the crew, what’s another trip. You forgot you needed supplies for a project due tomorrow? Kroger, here we come. Last-minute practice changes? Why not, sounds great.

I’ve got lunches to pack that I’ll throw most of away after school tomorrow. I have 10 minutes of homework that will surely take four hours. I have dinner to cook that you will refuse to even try because it has green stuff in it, which will then be followed by a gourmet five-course meal of your choosing consisting of Easy Mac, a hot dog, chicken nuggets, yogurt, and cereal of which you’ll consume a cumulative 6.5 bites before it joins the majority of your packed lunch in the trash.

I have hours of laundry to fold and put away so you can yank it all out of your drawer tomorrow and throw it all over your room while looking for the stained, too small shirt you’ll insist on wearing to make sure everyone thinks your mom never does laundry or buys you new clothes. Then when I yell at you to clean your messy room, you will pick up those clean clothes from your floor and toss them right back into the dirty clothes hamper. Hence, the never-ending laundry and my need to yell. Again.

I have 12 blankets to pick up and fold from all corners of this house. Not because it’s freezing in here but because your favorite hobby is getting every blanket out and dragging it through the house and dropping it wherever you feel the urge before going back for the next one.

RELATED: Why Tired Moms Stay Up Late

I have costumes to pick up from every surface because you want to be Captain Underpants when you get home from preschool, you have to eat dinner as a Ninja Turtle, you insist on putting on your football uniform to play imaginary tackle football with yourself, then gear up in your police uniform to head out to patrol the backyard in your police vehicle.

The yard. Oh, the yard. It’s a never-ending job picking up construction vehicles and returning them to the sandbox. Gathering random socks from around the trampoline. Rounding up 43 basketballs, footballs, and kickballs. Watering my dead plants out of principle, not that I actually think they have a chance of ever coming back to life.

I have sand to sweep from the floors and scrub from the bathtub after the ring left from bathing dirty little boys. There’s urine to mop up around the toiletsbecause again, boys.

I have permission slips to sign, money to be handed over, fundraisers to solicit.

There’s kind of a lot going on.

So, at the end of the day when I ask you to pick up your Hot Wheels, please do not cluck at me. Just pick up the darn cars and put them away. Because believe it or not, I don’t like to yell. It does not spark joy within me. It leaves a huge weight of mom guilt on my shoulders that never really goes away. It may shift from my shoulders to my mind at night, so I have plenty of things to overthink and worry about as I lie in bed instead of resting my overly tired mind. It infringes on my allotted six hours of sleep I so desperately need before waking up to do this all over again. By morning, it will shift back to my shoulders for me to carry around all day again because no amount of worrying and overthinking seems to ever make it go away.

RELATED: A Mother’s Mind Never Rests Because We Carry the Mental Load

I’m sorry I yell. I really am. I will try harder tomorrow but no promises can be made. I know you’ll be super shocked to hear this, but I’m not a perfect mom. It’s hard to tell from the forgotten show-and-tell days and the unsuccessful, Pinterest-worthy school projectsbut it’s the truth.

I try my best, I really do. But many times, my best doesn’t feel good enough. Not because you make me feel that way, but because I feel nothing will ever be good enough for the perfectly imperfect little humans your dad and I have created. I will forever want to do more. To be more.

But as much as I yell AT you sometimes, remember I’m yelling FOR you most times. Yelling on the sidelines, proud of that tackle. Yelling encouragement when you try out for the sport you’re not the best at but willing to try anyway. Yelling I’m proud of you for receiving the best grades you’re capable of achieving. Yelling you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re kind because that’s what you need to hear the most. Those yells by far outweigh the frustrated, tired, cranky yells.

So, at the end of the day, please don’t remember the times I yelled.

Please remember the carpool karaoke of “Old Town Road” on repeat because that’s your favorite songand because you were forced to participate in two hours of carpool because your siblings have places to be. Please remember your belly being full, your clothes that smell like Tide, and the overflowing bottomless toy box. Please remember me running through the house as you chase me with a sword and clapping for you as you perform imaginary tackles on the living room carpet in your football gear. Please remember the silly songs we make up and sing as we scrub the dirt from behind your ears and sand from your hair.

Most of all, remember I love you.

I’m proudly yelling “I LOVE YOU!”

Please, just remember that yell.

Love,
Mom

Originally published on the author’s blog

Parenting is a wild ride, but the strategies in Mindful Parenting in a Chaotic World have made it a little smoother for us. (And YAY! It’s on Audible as well for those of us who don’t have time to sit and read.)

Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Amber Kruse

Amber is a professional Accounting Manager by day and a train wreck mother by night. She is a wife and mother to four children ages 5-15. She gets through life on copious amounts of coffee, lots of humor, wine by the box and tons of laughter usually brought on by her kids’ shenanigans. You can view her Facebook page at The Motley Kru by Amber Kruse.

I Promise to Show Up for You

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother and daughter in garden

My child, I hope you know you can count on this: I will show up for you. I will show up when you wake in the middle of the night, when you get up too early or stay up too late. I will be there to make your meals, read you a story, and tuck you into bed. I will show up when you are sick—taking time off work, bringing you to the doctor, cleaning up your throw-up, and sitting up with you. I will show up at every game, sitting in the stands or a camp chair, freezing or...

Keep Reading

A Strong Woman Does Not Always Feel Strong

In: Motherhood
Woman holding baby on beach, color photo

You feel weak, mama, but you are strong  We wear our strength in many forms, barely noticing the feats we accomplish daily.  The strength of a mom can be seen carrying grocery bags from the trunk to the house, upstairs and down again, with a baby strapped to her chest.  The strength of a mom is pushing two kids on swings next to each other while inwardly dealing with a recent miscarriage eating away at her heart. She holds back tears while picturing a newborn in a stroller nearby watching. And the hole deepens. Yet she carries on.  The strength...

Keep Reading

When You Feel Like You’re Failing, Know You’re Not Alone

In: Motherhood
Tired woman sitting in messy child's bedroom

Dear parent, you are going to fail. You are going to fail over and over again while parenting. I don’t care if you have nine children or one. I don’t care if you are a step-parent, an adoptive parent, or anything in between—you are going to fail. Over and over again. But the great thing about kids is God made them so resilient and forgiving, so He could show us grace on earth.  I have forgotten to send the paperwork to the school. I have forgotten about events and practices for the kids.  RELATED: I May Fail, But I’ll Go...

Keep Reading

Our Nanny Is a Special Part of Our Family

In: Motherhood
Family with nanny, color photo

The saying is “it takes a village,” and I didn’t know how true this would ring until I had children of my own. Within ours, I anticipated family, friends, the church, and various members of the community. What I never anticipated was the special role our nanny would fill within our family. As working moms, leaving our kids in someone else’s care is hard, no matter the circumstances. We wonder if they’ll miss us and whether their day will still feel full in spite of our absence.  Ever since we brought our nanny into the family, I’ve never had to...

Keep Reading

Maybe Motherhood Is a Chance to Begin Again

In: Motherhood

It’s a funny thing when you have your own children, only then do you start to see yourself in such a way that you’ve never seen before. Terrifying yet beautiful. Before you become a parent, you have this vision of how you swear you will parent. It may be an exact replica of how you were parented or may be completely different. The only guarantee is that you don’t actually know until you become a parent. Some days you hear yourself and you sound just like your mother, your father, your grandmother, your aunt, or anyone who was around long...

Keep Reading

Healing and a Horse Named Chadwick

In: Motherhood
Woman with horse, black-and-white photo

I am by no means a horsewoman. I am a regular person lucky enough to have had an extraordinary experience with a horse. My daughter asked to ride horses from the time she could talk. Having no horse experience myself, in the fall of 2019, I found a barn willing to give pony lessons to a small child. There was something waiting for me at the barn too . . . I just didn’t know it yet. I can’t remember when Chadwick started watching us from the fence. One day he was just there . . . and every day...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Growth Is Tangible, and When It Is You Hold On Tight

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mom putting bike helmet on child

I never expected my sign to come in the form of a plastic bag. As a parent, you’re told over and over how fast it all goes, to cherish these times because they’re gone in a blink. You see the gradual changes in your kids as they move through milestones. One day, they can hold their own spoon. They begin stringing words into sentences. Their ages are counted in years and no longer months. You watch these things happen every day, but I didn’t realize some transitions would come in tangible ways, like a grocery bag filled with wet swim...

Keep Reading

Some Nights They Need You a Little More

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sleeping, color photo

Some nights they need you a little more, mama. Because of the bad dreams or the bogeyman they are adamant is under the bed. Because firefighter daddy’s schedule leaves him missing goodnight tuck-ins and bedtime stories several times a week, sometimes leaving them a little needier and more emotional. Some nights they need you a little more, mama. RELATED: I’ll Lay With You As Long As You Need, My Child Because they are sick. Because they feel safe in your presence. Some nights they need you a little more, mama. It’s not always easy. It’s not always (okay, hardly ever)...

Keep Reading

Will My Child Be Like I Was As a Teen?

In: Motherhood, Teen
Woman holding baby, color photo

The day my son turned 15, I was overcome by fear and anxiety. An impending doom like a little, black, raincloud hung over my head as I wondered . . . will he be like me as a teenager? The year that led up to his 15th birthday, I rewatched Dawson’s Creek. Perhaps that’s where I went wrong. I binge-watched the ’90s teen drama of these TV characters who grew up alongside me, but this time through the eyes of an adult—a mom—and not the eyes of a teenager. Episode after episode features teens talking about sex, having sex, drinking,...

Keep Reading

I’m Giving My Daughter Space To Define Her Adoption

In: Motherhood
Young girl and her mom at pumpkin patch, color photo

I cracked a joke, and as I walked from the table, I heard her mutter to her friends, “Good thing I’m adopted!” I forced myself to continue moving and tried to hide my rapidly blushing cheeks. I volunteer at my daughter’s school when I can. Today I had library duty, and it’s an assignment I love. I am an avid reader, and I like being surrounded by so many words. I also get to see the kids interact with each other and the librarian. Lastly, it’s an hour commitment so I can be a mom but also still be me....

Keep Reading