The Morning I Lost My Cool
No. 100 - A moment I'm not proud of, and a milestone worth celebrating
You’re reading the 100th edition of Modern Motherhood Musings. 100 weeks of sharing my experience as a mother in today’s world. From NICU stays, to potty training, to building community in real life, and crying over the upcoming start of Kindergarten. I love sharing this journey with you, and hope you feel a sense of camaraderie each week.
The best part of this creative outlet has been YOU. I’ve reconnected with so many women from different seasons of my life, and made countless new friends along the way. It’s been heartwarming to learn how similar our stories all are. I’m thankful to my sweet uncle who texts me every single Friday without fail, and for everyone who has responded to a post, emailed me, texted me, and provided encouragement. THANK YOU. Here’s to 100 more.
-Bri
Earlier this week we had one of those mornings where everything unraveled before 8 a.m.
The dog had peed on the floor, the kids were fighting over toys, and I was frantically trying to pack school lunches before a Zoom call. I hadn’t showered or taken a sip of coffee before the requests started rolling in.
“Can I have some milk?”
“My waffle is cold!”
“I need a Kleenex!”
And in the middle of it all, one kid was losing his mind because his brother wouldn’t stop touching him with his foot, and it was “bothering him”.
I exploded.
“CUT IT OUT!!!” I yelled—so loudly that even our nearly‑deaf dog looked up at me with concern.
Immediately the house went silent.
The kids sat there wide‑eyed, unsure what to do next, while I went back to making peanut‑butter‑and‑jelly sandwiches with a pit in my stomach.
I would never yell at my husband, a coworker, a friend like that. So why do I allow myself to lose it with my kids?
I know what the parenting books say. I know the scripts, the strategies, the calm‑voice techniques. But in that moment—when your guttural instinct takes over—none of the self‑help advice matters.
Sometimes I feel like a ghost and a doormat in my own house.
From the moment we wake up, it’s a race: pack lunches, find jackets, locate the missing shoe, call the doctor’s office.
“Help me turn the light on.”
“My pants are wet.”
“I can’t find my bear.”
I’m constantly picking up after someone. Constantly fielding requests. Always the last one to sit down, to drink water, to pee. An endless barrage of needs—and that morning, the fighting on top of it all pushed me over the edge.
It’s not a moment I’m proud of, but it’s one I’m choosing to share.
Because every family has moments where the noise gets too loud and our patience runs too thin.
After it passed, I apologized. We hugged. We finished breakfast.
And tomorrow we’ll try again.
Because that’s what motherhood is — tiny moments of repair, of redemption, of loving them so fiercely that you promise yourself you’ll do better next time.
If you’ve had a motherhood moment you’re not proud of this week, I hope you give yourself grace.
Your worth as a mom isn’t measured by the moments you messed up, but by the moments you chose to show up again — different, and trying a little harder each time.
🍿 My husband and I are big whodunnit fans, and we recently enjoyed Seven Dials based on the Agatha Christie novel. It’s only 3 episodes so they didn’t drag it on like other series which I appreciated.
🧖🏻♀️ I’ve been using this scalp revival mask to combat the dry winter weather and I’ve been impressed. You can leave it on for 10 minutes or up to overnight. I leave it on overnight and wash it out in the morning once a week.
🐷 Pork tenderloin is not something we cook a lot because I don’t love it, and it always seems to turn out dry, but this recipe?! WOW. We served it with sautéed cabbage and roasted sweet potatoes, and my 5-year-old had 3 plates!
Welcome to new subscribers - Suzann L., Brandi M., Kimberly B., Shirley L., Amy C., and Annette C., . I’m so glad to have you here!
Happy Friday, Friends! I hope you all have a great weekend!
From The Modern Motherhood Musings Archive:
First of all, "cut it out" is not the worst thing you could yell, but I get it. I know that pit in your stomach when you lose your temper on your favorite people. I'm just hopeful that there's a lesson to be learned for my kids when they hear me say sorry. I am regularly apologizing for being crabby or being wrong or being whatever, and I hope that their take away is that sometimes we screw up (even grown ups!) and when we do, we say sorry and carry on.
At some point, we all lose it. Mine is 25 now (Peanut is all grown up!), and we can butt heads for sure. I will say that puberty was the worst. Goodness. Don't worry, I've got you during those years.