Being Mom is remembering all the things for all the people all the time. Being Mom is leaving our keys in the door and our wallet at the store.

10:07: Turn off my light and go to sleep.

11:22: Wake up to blood-curdling screams from the 3-year-old, who has instantaneously appeared in our room, like a horror film apparition.

As a Mom, the common cold, flu, and stomach bugs take on a whole new meaning. They are totally disruptive to any semblance of routine, ruin any good sleep stretches, can add major work and financial stress, and if we get sick too, we can’t even wallow in it because most of us don’t have our Moms next door to take care of us.

In this America, the land of excess, it has insidiously crept up on us with each birthday, holiday, random shopping trip, and vacation. Now we have an attic full of toys, a playroom full of toys, a bedroom full of toys, and a basement full of toys. A life full of toys, and full of mess.

Meanwhile, other shoppers veer around and look at me with annoyed accusations in their stares – condemning me and my unruly children. I kind of want to disappear, and I kind of want to stand my ground and stare back with the message: “Hey! This is hard! We all make mistakes!”

Do you hear my voice?

Do you hear the words I am saying to you?

In the six years of having at least a 2-year-old in the house to get ready, I have pleaded with these very words in an infinite loop.

After our first day in Arkansas, my 8-year-old announced she wanted to live there forever. I have a theory it was because of the free desserts at lunch at my grandmother’s assisted living home, but I wonder if there was a deeper sense she had of the family connection that is often missing in our modern world of spread out families.

When one or many of our children go through the developmentally normal phase of rejecting us, it can hurt. It can rub salt into a wound we may not have realized was so raw and open. Where is the gratitude for what I do for our family? This is where we may have a very human response to what can feel like superhuman expectations as a parent.

This week, I thought of how many of us parents are wondering how to balance our fears with living life normally. How do we not want to keep our kids home from school just in case?

So maybe we have these idealized visions of making family memories, because we really do remember the positive parts from our own childhoods – the feelings of closeness, tradition, and connection.

The non-linear nature of the storytelling opens me up to feeling the bigness of those small, tender moments that I so wish I could tightly pack and store in my memory for perfect preservation.

This is the perfect illustration of what seems to be the biggest struggle for many of us in parenting: we are not in control. We can be in charge, at least most of the time, but control is an illusion – or delusion - depending on the day.

I know all the stuff so that I SHOULD know what to do, but none of this knowledge prepares me for managing the mystery that is a Toddler. 

You don’t know what my morning was like. You don’t know how much attention I have given my children in every other moment today besides this reprieve at the park.

As a psychologist who promotes communication, positive family interactions, and focusing on strengths, I say this: we will all yell. But that's not all that counts, and the more you forgive yourself for it, the less you may actually do it.