Parent self-care: You are not your worst moment

I am stating the bleeding obvious when I say parenting is hard work.

Parenting is the most beautiful, exhausting, frustrating, worry-inducing and humbling journey most of us will ever take. As a mum of three young children myself, I know how quickly the inner critic can arise when the day doesn’t go to plan.

Sometimes the inner critic starts baiting us from the moment we wake up.

“The house is really messy.”

“Why can’t you keep the house clean for your children?”

“I’m yelling at them to eat breakfast again… I don’t want to be like this.”

And before we know it, the tone of our thoughts becomes the tone of our interactions...

“Why can’t you get dressed when I ask you to? We go over this every morning.”

“Give me a minute!”

“Everyone stop talking at the same time!”

It is hard not to fall into these automatic patterns of thinking when we are overwhelmed and trying to move mountains—getting one or more children into and out of the bath, coaxing shoes onto little feet, racing out the door before school starts. And that’s before we’ve even begun dealing with their big emotions.

After listening to these harsh narratives all day, we can easily slide into the next set of conclusions: “I’m not good at this.”

“Why can’t I be more patient?”

“I am a bad parent…”

Be kind to the parent you are right now. Compassion isn’t a reward you earn after you’ve been “perfect”—it’s the gentle hand you place on your own shoulder in the middle of the emotional mess.

When you notice that harsh voice, pause. Ask yourself: Whose expectation am I trying to live up to right now? Is it the perfectly curated Instagram feed, the way your own parents did it, or the version of “good parent” you invented before you actually had children?

Most of these expectations were never ours to begin with. They are stories we absorbed, not truths we chose. And stories can be rewritten.

You have the power to choose—at any given moment. One hard moment does not have to ruin the whole day. Children’s emotions are still under construction; their nervous systems are learning how to regulate by borrowing from yours. That’s why the ups and downs feel so intense—you are literally co-regulating in real time. When their big feelings spill over, yours often do too. This isn’t failure; it’s biology and development doing exactly what they’re meant to do.

So when things spiral, give yourself permission to hit reset. Take a breather—literally. Step outside for thirty seconds, splash water on your face, or go to the bathroom and breathe. Tell the children (and yourself), “I need a moment to find my calm so I can help us both.” Then step back into the next moment. Because a day is made of hundreds of moments, not one.

Self-control is an energy issue, not a willpower issue. When you’re running on empty, your capacity to stay regulated shrinks dramatically. Fuel and sleep are not luxuries—they are the foundations of the patience you wish you had. A protein-rich snack, a glass of water, or an earlier bedtime for you (yes, you) can shift the entire afternoon. Protect your energy the same way you protect your child’s.

Repair is always possible. One of the most powerful gifts we can give our children is the modelling of repair. Coming back once you are calm, acknowledging “I shouldn’t have yelled like that,” explaining your own feelings simply, and then truly hearing theirs, teaches them that relationships can weather storms and be mended. It shows them that love doesn’t disappear when mistakes are made. Repair strengthens trust and gives them a blueprint for their own future relationships.

A short daily practice you can start today

1. Notice the harsh expectation without judgment.

2. Ask: “Is this story helpful or kind?”

3. Choose one small compassionate act for yourself in the next ten minutes.

4. Remember: you are not your worst moment. You are the parent who keeps showing up, learning, and loving—even when it’s messy.

5. You are already enough. The story you tell yourself about today can be one of strength, not shame. And tomorrow always offers fresh pages.

With warmth and belief in you,

Dr Georgie Cameron

Storykind Psychology