4 Obvious Signs That Remind Me To Take a Break From Motherhood

I don't know a parent who hasn't yelled at their kids before. If you're out there, please let me know your secret. Inflation wouldn't make a dent in me if someone gave me a dollar every time I yelled at my kids.

When they're about to knock my precious hot cup of coffee off the table, draw on my favorite novel, throw my phone in the toilet, run into the street without looking, smack their sister in the back as she's walking away with their toys, or dash into the kitchen while I'm checking on the chicken roasting in the oven, I yell. 

But what if I'm yelling because they're being kids and their normal, annoying selves? Like they're interrupting my train of thought, talking over me, requesting snacks, asking me way too many questions, or making tons of noise. That probably means mommy needs a break.

My name is Katharine and I am a phone addict. And I don't just use it to stalk celebrities and read memes. I bank with my phone, make appointments, Google what the baby version of a horse is called, write blog topics, pitches, and emails, trade stocks, find recipes, and look up the meaning of life. 

So I use my phone a lot. But there are times I find I'm using my phone excessively instead of paying attention and being present with my kids.

I've done everything I need to do on my phone, but haven't put it down. Appointments have been made. Emails sent. Bills paid. I've seen all the newest posts from the dozens of Instagram accounts that I religiously follow. I'm scrolling to refresh and refresh and refresh. This is a sign I probably need a rest from motherhood.

For the most part, my husband and I parent as a team. We divide and conquer the household responsibilities. He does his fair share of drop-offs, pickups, cleaning, planning, shopping, and so forth. He is my partner in crime, the only other adult in the house to whom I can vent to. And also blame. 

I like things done a certain way and when I'm relaxed and carefree, so are my expectations. A dirty sock on the stairs for the second time this week? I'll pick it up and toss it in the laundry basket without a peep. A few dirty knives left on the kitchen counter? I'll pop them in the dishwasher.

But on days when I'm overwhelmed and to my breaking point? I will tear my husband a new one. Instead of a gentle reminder, I'll start off as "I do everything around here and you can't even … "

Once I hear myself, I stop and tell myself that mommy needs a break.

My kids are still little. Their innocence and naivety make them incredibly adorable. They're learning new words and figuring out how the world works. 

The other day, my toddler son was so excited to play with his new truck, he did a hop and dance and fell on his face. He burst into tears, but five seconds after handing him his truck, he was all laughs and smiles.

There have been times when I don't find those moments endearing. Like so what? I'm merely trying to survive while watching the clock tick toward bedtime. That's when I just don't care anymore, which also means I need to schedule some self-care and me time.