You know how they say “you can’t be a good mom all the time”? Well, I’ve realized I definitely have my moments. Yes, I admit it—I can be a bit of a pain sometimes. It’s hard to believe, right? I mean, I usually come off as the sweetest mom you’ll ever meet.
But let me explain: have you ever been in college and finally figured out how many drinks you can handle before you end up hugging the toilet? Or in a yoga class when the instructor suggests you try a challenging pose, but instead, you choose to chill in child’s pose? That’s how I see my parenting limits. I’ve come to identify what I like to call my Maximum B*tch Capacity (MBC).
Picture this: I’m with my two kids, ages 6 and 8, and they’re in a full-on wrestling match over who gets to play with a piece of tin foil while the dog hasn’t been walked and we’re late for soccer practice. All of a sudden, another mom casually asks me if I want more kids. I look at her as if she’s sprouted a second head and say, “Absolutely not! I’ve hit my Maximum B*tch Capacity with these two!”
We grow up learning about all sorts of things—what hairstyles suit us, which jeans fit best, and even which partners are right for us. But recognizing our limits before we explode? That’s something you learn on the job, especially as a parent. I often find myself reaching my MBC much more frequently than I’d like to admit.
Take the other day, for instance. We were running late for soccer, the shin guards were nowhere to be found, and the kids were practically clawing at each other over who gets to play with the crumpled foil from their frozen Eggo pancakes. They hadn’t even eaten yet, nor had they peed or brushed their hair or teeth. The game was about to start, and still, no one was dressed. In a moment of madness, I snatched the tin foil and crumpled it up, thinking, “This is mine now!”
I tried so hard to keep my cool that morning, but it didn’t last. “STOP IT!” I yelled, louder than both of them combined. They froze, wide-eyed—one kid clutching his eye where he’d been hit, and the other holding her arm where he’d pinched her. I yelled until they were so annoyed with me that they became best friends again. Then, I turned my frustration on my husband for not stepping in to help. By the time we got to soccer, the car was silent, and my throat ached from the shouting. Yep, that’s the kind of mom I can be.
Sometimes, I feel guilty that my limits aren’t as high as they should be. I see so many supermoms out there managing to juggle kids, work, and social lives so effortlessly—some are even PTA presidents and soccer coaches! It makes me wonder if their Maximum B*tch Capacity is just higher than mine.
I recently spoke with my friend Jessica, who has three kids and a full-time job, yet she never seems to raise her voice. I’m in awe of how she handles everything, from packing three lunches to managing school supplies and extracurricular activities. Then she mentioned her full-time nanny and in-laws who are always available to help, which makes a lot of sense. Maybe she’s just more patient because she has a support system. I’m doing this mostly on my own, with my husband helping out when he can.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if I should be pushing myself harder. Should I volunteer more? Engage more? Perhaps I just need to take a breather. A parenting article I stumbled upon suggested giving yourself a “time out,” which sounded good until I realized my kids might end up in a wrestling match while I’m trying to relax. My husband is into mindfulness, using an app called Headspace, and he thinks I should give it a go. Maybe I should try something new—my current zen usually comes from watching reality TV, which, let’s be honest, is a pretty low bar.
I can’t be the only one who checks to see if the windows are closed before I unleash my inner mom monster. We’re all just trying our best at this parenting gig. The truth is, I know I’m a caring and loving mom. My house may not be spotless, but my kids are happy, confident, and empathetic. When I finally reach my limit, sometimes I just have to let that “bitch” out to get things done. Clearly, I’m still learning to accept my boundaries. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time for a moment of peace in child’s pose.
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In summary, we all have our breaking points as parents. It’s okay to embrace our limits and learn how to manage them while still being supportive to ourselves and our families.
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