August 6, 2025
As Kind to Myself as I Am to My Kids
The house is silent, except for the clinking of dishes and the soft rush of water. It's midnight and here I am, replaying my worst moment of the day. The time I snapped, the time I wasn't the parent I wanted to be. My kids, they forgive me by sundown. I forgive them within seconds. I, on the other hand, carry it like an old satchel, heavy and worn.
Today's scene played out like many others. I lost my patience over something small, the kind of thing you'd laugh about with friends, but in the moment, it felt serious. Now, the only audience is a pile of sudsy plates and my own endless loop of self-reproach.
The Nightly Rewind
Every parent I know has their midnight moments. You want to reflect, to learn, but there's a fine line where reflection becomes self-flagellation. I see it with my kids too. They'll fret over a mistake, and I'm quick to console them, tell them everyone messes up, every day is new. Yet here I am, not taking my own advice.
Why is it so easy to forgive my children? Maybe because I see their hearts, their intent. I believe in their goodness, their capacity to grow. In my own reflection, I focus on the faults, the outbursts, the moments I'm not proud of. A few minutes of exasperation overshadow hours of love and patience.
Recognizing My Own Humanity
As I stack the last plate, I wonder what it would be like to extend the same kindness to myself. To acknowledge that just like my kids, I'm learning and imperfect. When my kids color outside the lines, I admire their creativity. When I color outside my lines, I scold myself for not staying within the boundaries.
There's a lesson here, somewhere between the soap bubbles and the silence. Maybe it's okay that I'm not okay all the time. Maybe, just maybe, the grace I give to my children is a gift I can offer myself too.
A Little Forgiveness at the End of the Day
The dishes are done. I turn off the light and take a moment to breathe. Tomorrow, when I face my reflection again, I'll try to remember this feeling. The understanding that being a parent is messy and beautiful. That each day is another chance to show up, to forgive the big and the small.
As I head to bed, the house settles around me, easing into the night. Tomorrow will bring its own chaos and joy, and I'll try to meet it with the same kindness I offer my kids. Perhaps in time, I can learn to forgive myself as quickly as I forgive them.