You’ve just got off the phone with your sister and she’s having a meltdown over the oil change she had done to her car, by a company I won’t mention, and now her engine died. Over the phone you had to calm your sister down and in the process, you manage to burn the chicken alfredo you were preparing for dinner. As you place the spatula and your cell phone down on the counter you hear a blood curdling scream come from your child’s bedroom. Then you hear your other child screaming and you realize it’s time to be the super hero mom you know is in there somewhere. You will calmly walk down the hall, kneel in front of your children and explain to them the importance of sharing.
Instead, you run down the hall with your heart racing and fly into your children’s bedroom. They’re screaming and kicking. Now you notice you’re screaming, but they can’t hear you so you scream louder as you pull their white knuckled grips from the fire truck they are arguing over. Mad as hell, you separate your children. Tell one to sit on the floor and the other to sit on their bed.
Everyone takes a long yoga breath and all is right in the world. You explain that you want them to share their toys and that you will have to take the toy if they don’t share with one another. You hug each of your children, tell them both that you love them, and calming walk out of the bedroom. As you enter the hallway your “I’m a kick-ass mother” thought is interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Continue walking sista, continue walking.
Is this anything close to your breaking point? Motherhood is full of breaking points and I have to just walk my way through them. With my head held high knowing that once those little nuggets are tucked away, sleeping in their beds, this mama will be enjoying a nice glass of whiskey. What is your breaking point?