Today I lost my temper. Under the pressure of trying to do it all, I lost it.

I’m not proud. I screamed at my little girl so hard it came out as a growl. She jumped and hit the floor crying. What’s wors,e I didn’t have remorse even then. I finished putting my clothes on for work, gathered her up and changed her clothes with tears in her eyes and snot dripping out her nose.

I have a thousand excuses. I’m running on four hours of sleep. She’s at that lovely age of two where she doesn’t listen to a word I say. I’m constantly juggling work, cleaning the house, taking care of it all. I could definitely use some help, but I don’t have it and it’s not her fault. I had to pack up and leave for work. She was happy. We get to Grandma’s and the tears were a distant memory for her.

Now, I can’t even look at myself wondering what kind of monster I was.

It wasn’t the first snap. Oh, I want it to be the last.

I let her down. I’m so sorry, baby girl. You don’t know anything other than what I show you and I showed it all wrong. I should never take my frustrations out on you.

How, how do I do better? How do I protect her from the worst parts of me? I know I need a break. I know I need a minute to myself, but either way, the weight should not land on her.

I know she bounced back, but I wonder what kind of lifelong scar could be left under the surface. All I can do is promise to try to do better. I promise to look high and low for any avenue to help cope where my poor child doesn’t carry my baggage.

To my poor baby girl, I’m sorry. I saw you. Under the monster that I had become in that moment, Mommy saw it all and I will do whatever I can to protect you from myself.

Lindsay Warren

An unexpected mother who thought she'd only have four-legged children. Sharing her experience.