The Poor Mom Revolution

Big feelings never seem to get any easier as we get older. Between stress, friendships, work, finances, extracurricular activities, constantly running from one thing to another… is enough to make anyone get to a breaking point. This week was one of those for me and not for anything crazy or able to be pinpointed. Just a little stress here, and a ‘what if’ there. A feeling of being off with no real reason in sight. More of my birthday is nearing and feeling like I should be 5 steps ahead of where I am. That constant internal dialogue playing devil’s advocate which messes with my mood, outside demeanor and of course wears down on my optimism.

I’ve always wanted my children to feel comfortable and safe sharing how they feel. I’ve always strived for them to grow up and feel like they could tell us everything and anything with no judgement. That if they had questions or concerns that they could ask and we’d answer it to the best of our ability. Over the years, we’ve worked hard to ensure the kids have the emotional intelligence to recognize their feelings and share them with us to allow them the space they need or the hug we know will help.

Sometimes the days go by without a hitch. We have awesome heart to hearts on the way to and from soccer. We enjoy a family dinner filled with all the details of the school day with tons of laughs to go around. This past week has been a lot of bickering and arguing constantly. The kids are snapping when being looked at the wrong way or someone touches something without permission. It tends to also wear on our patience.

Friday night was one of those nights. The kids were off and moods were grumpy. We misplaced a soccer uniform and once again, I wasn’t going to go hunting throughout the house looking in washing machines, laundry baskets, rooms and back seats while Roblox was being played. I may have made that point crystal clear that this was more important than the game and needed to be found prior to bedtime since we had to leave by 9am. I got the constant long, drawn out “I know mom!” When the game wasn’t turned off, I repeated what was needed and got screamed at.

This doesn’t happen often. The shrieking outburst of get the hell out of my face. As calmly as I could, I said don’t speak to me like that and left. I said goodnight to my hubby and went upstairs. First thing I did was silently cry for about 10 minutes. I allowed myself to have a mini meltdown, dooms scrolled on Instagram reels to distract my mind and tried to take deep breaths. The rational part of my brain knew this had nothing to do with me. It was frustration that came out as a scream directed towards me. There was no throwing of items, slamming doors, cursing or name calling. It was a warning yell to give her the space she needed and I needed to give that.

This is the unconditional love we are sharing with our kids. As much as we have created an environment where we allow the emotional outburst, it doesn’t make it any easier. It’s important for them to be able to freak out, get pissed, get overwhelmed and know we love them anyways.

I mean… if I’m being completely honest, that’s what I love most about my husband. The fact that when my anxiety is through the roof, I’m spiraling, I’m overwhelmed, feeling like the world is against me… he’s there. Whether it is in silence to let me know I’m good. I’m safe. I’m loved. Whether it’s a hug or a simple, I’m upstairs when you need me. I can’t always make sense of everything, but his love has never failed to persist. We tag team life like we tag team parenting. When he’s struggling, I’m there and when I’m struggling l, he’s always by my side.

I still find it amazing that these kids will never know physical violence or fear from feeling. That their emotions are normal, big and sometimes, no matter the age, unmanageable or able to be ignored.

Having a safe space for your kids isn’t all about allowing the outburst and emotions as it is about the aftermath. That afterwards you reflect and talk about what happened. Usually, I’m that person and this weekend it was my hubby. After calming down, she came out to let him know what got her to that point. The situation at school that was eating at her until she shared it. That she didn’t mean to yell or get angry, but it happened. She came upstairs, apologized and snuggled with me for a while. Again, I silently cried while holding my not so little baby in my arms.

This safe space isn’t easy to create and is sometimes even more impossible to maintain. It’s about playing the long game and suffering through the few difficult times to make sure they have something to show for it as time goes on. There’s always that saying “little people, little problems,” and with your babies, there is no such thing as little emotions. They feel everything 10x harder and bigger because to them their world is imploding.

When your project or slime doesn’t go your way and it winds up in the trash.

When someone was rude or insulting on the bus.

When a friend isn’t being very nice, and tells them they aren’t BFFs anymore.

…Nothing else matters that day. Not the test or quiz they had before lunch, not the conversations happening in the cafeteria when they notice their ex-BFF making new friends, not being able to brush it off for soccer practice, and definitely not your family trying to cheer you up when you get home. When your heart breaks, no matter the age or reason, it hurts all the same.

I know all of this is a part of growing up. I know I’m still growing up, having big emotions, melting down, and picking myself back up off the floor when it’s time. I also know thesr emotions are heightened based on the age and hormonal craziness going on.