“Oh my GOSHHHHH, Mom! Couldn’t you have WAITED to stream church until I FINISHED WHAT I WAS DOING?! MY PHONE IS LAGGING!!!”

I choke back my coffee in shock at the over-the-top daggers of fury being hurled at me from my son’s room. I mean, I literally just poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down to enjoy cyber-church on this pleasant Sunday morning. How was I to know I was cutting into the precious bandwidth and disrupting my poor boy-child’s Pokemon-Go battle? On his iPhone. That we told him he wouldn’t get until he’s at least 14.

(He’s 11.)

He may not get it back until he’s 14.

“Can you pleeeease make french toast?” my girl-child pleads. Another one of her out-of-the-blue Varuca Salty-esque requests that requires at least some degree of planning and preparation.

“We don’t have milk,” I reply. “…orrrrr bread.”

“Oh my GOSH, Mom! I just wanted some french toast. We never eat french toast.”

[annnnd you’ve literally never asked for french toast…which is precisely the reason I don’t have the ingredients to whip up your scrumptious Sunday morning spur-of-the-moment craving.]

For those who are wondering, my first name’s not Betty and my last name’s not Crocker.

So much for my peaceful, Sunday morning cyber-church and coffee. I’ve barely rolled out of bed, and I’m already failing my family. Or so it feels.

This is the moment of truth. I have a choice. I can wear those feelings of failure, zipping them up tightly, like a well-fitted designer dress, and prance around, stacking thoughts and conforming more, by the minute, to one who’s fit for the Failure Prom OR I can accept things exactly as they are, drop the dress in the over-flowing laundry basket, and move forward with my day.

I unapologetically take my son’s phone away, squashing the voice in my head that says I will crush his spirit if I set firm consequences, while – in a surprising twist – simultaneously staving off the inevitable lizard-brain urge to counter-attack, “I will punch you in the FACE, son!” I apologize to my daughter that we don’t have the groceries we need for the breakfast she wants.

And it STOPS there.

THIS IS THE MOTHERHOOD. It’s demanding. Kid 1 asks a question, and Kid 2 makes a request (or, more likely, a demand) while you’re trying to formulate a response to Kid 1. Kid 1 pushes, “Why haven’t you answered me?” Kid 3 (sometimes called ‘Dad’ by the the other two) wants to know what’s for dinner. And, yet, they wonder why you can no longer speak in complete sentences. (Or is that just me?) Having demanding kids doesn’t make them bad kids, and the inability to meet all their demands all the time (or maybe even any of the time) doesn’t make me (or you) a bad mom. They’re being humans (albeit, incomplete versions), and I’m being human.

I’ve yet to speak to a mom who doesn’t feel the pressure to remember all the things, do all the things, and keep the home running like a well-oiled machine. My friend said it best. “From the time we are pregnant, Mom-Guilt sets in. ‘Did I eat something I wasn’t supposed to? Did I drink alcohol?’ Did I have too much caffeine?'” She’s right! And, apparently Mom-Guilt doesn’t have a life, because it clings to us tighter than duct tape sticks to its own damned self for the remainder of our Mommy existence.

The problem comes in (and I’m speaking from experience) when we ruminate on the feelings of guilt and inadequacy and begin stacking evidence in our minds to support the presumption that we’re failing. First, it causes us to continue to falter and succumb to a sense of animosity and overwhelm. Secondly, it takes us out of the present moment, which is all we really have. The past and the future are figments of our minds, encased in our memory & imagination. The only thing that is real and tangible is the here & now. How sad is it that we so often miss out on reality because we’re so distracted by thoughts of the past or worries of the future!

The days are long, but the years are short. We are going to blink. Let’s not let the the past and future rob us from the present moments with our children. The imperfect moments, when embraced and fully experienced with the miraculous beauty of all our senses, become far more perfect than the ones we never even notice because we’re distracted by a noisy (if faulty) internal dialogue.

A Simple Mindfulness Strategy

When the moments of overwhelm arise, intentionally pause. Recognize the thought, picture it in your mind, then allow it to burst – like a bubble. It’s not real. It doesn’t control you. Another simple strategy is to focus on your breath. Shift your entire attention to your breathing or to the sensations you physically feel throughout your body. By doing this, you bring your focus back to the present moment. What do I see in front of me? What sounds do I hear? Reset. Return to the now.

And, remind yourself of your wins. Retrain your brain to ruminate on your successes. Every night, ask yourself, “What was I proud of, in my parenting, today?” Over time, such a seemingly too-simple-to-be-true practice will teach your brain to search out and create those proud Mommy Moments throughout your day.

You’re doing a good job, Mom….Mama….Mommy…..MOMMMMEEEHHHHHH! It’s been a unique season, and you have slayed. You’ve stuck it out. Some people don’t. You haven’t abandoned ship. You’ve committed to this journey for the long haul, and you’re sticking to that commitment! And, let’s be honest. Some days, that counts as the biggest win of all! Give yourself a pat on the back, a glass of wine, a bubble bath, or whatever it is that makes you feel rewarded. You deserve it.