A Honest Confession From A Conscious Parent
Do you remember that a few weeks ago, I wrote about the day when my toddler went to school in her underwear? (If you haven’t read the post, you can find it here.)
Many people were surprised that I didn’t force the issue, argue, threaten, or wrestle clothes onto a determined toddler.
Instead, I stepped back, chose connection over control, and let her experience a natural consequence. It felt like a parenting win. Then last week happened.
And if I’m honest, I need to tell you about that one too, although I wasn’t and I’m not proud of it at all. Because conscious parenting isn’t about always getting it right. It’s about being willing to look at what happened when you didn’t. And that’s true for me too.
The Meltdown
We were leaving a playdate, and my daughter did not want to leave. What started as a small protest escalated into a full-blown meltdown. Fast. Like lightning FAST.
One minute, we were wrapping up a lovely morning. Next, I was trying to remove a borrowed swimsuit from a furious toddler while simultaneously preventing her from taking off every piece of clothing in front of multiple people, including other surprised kids. Not exactly one of those Instagram parenting moments. Meanwhile, I was gathering bags, water bottles, borrowed items, and attempting to say polite goodbyes. “Thank you so much!” “We had a wonderful time!” All while carrying a screaming child tucked awkwardly under one arm. The contrast was almost comical. Then came the car. My daughter was half naked. We were both drenched in sweat. Cheers to the humid Texas summer. What followed was a ten-minute standoff that looked less like parenting and more like a wrestling match. Picture two exhausted sumo wrestlers equally determined and equally unwilling to surrender.
The objective seemed simple: get a tired and overwhelmed toddler into her car seat. The reality was anything but simple. She used all the resistance she had.
By that point, she was done. And if I’m honest, so was I. SO MUCH!!!
What Was Really Happening
On the surface, it looked like a battle and tantrum about leaving. But it wasn’t.
My daughter was tired, hungry, overstimulated, running on the sugar from a cupcake she had eaten earlier. Her nervous system was done. And if I’m being truthful? So was mine.
The difference was that I didn’t recognize it quickly enough. I know all the tools. I know the scripts. I know the breathing exercises. I know how the nervous system works, and I know the fancy parenting methods.
But knowledge and capacity are not the same thing.
And in that moment, I had very little capacity left.
The Moment I Lost
The truth is, I wasn’t triggered by my daughter first. I was triggered by everyone else. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. “I should know better”. They didn’t judge me, but I felt awful. I felt like I should be able to handle this better, and I felt like I was failing. Minute by minute. The situation was quickly spiraling out of my hands.
And once shame enters the room, connection usually leaves through the back door. Instead of stepping back, I powered through. Instead of regulating myself, I doubled down. Instead of asking, “What does my child need right now?” I became focused on one thing: Getting this situation under control. And when control becomes the goal, connection often becomes the casualty. So, I did what many exhausted adults do. I used the one thing I had left. My strength.
I overpowered her physically because I could no longer reach her emotionally. And the moment I did that, we both lost. Not because she won, or not because I won. But because power struggles don’t actually have winners.
The Ride Home
She cried. I cried. We drove home together, both heartbroken in our own ways.
And sitting there, listening to her sobs from the back seat, I realized something. This wasn’t a parenting failure. It was information. It showed me exactly where my work still lives. Not in the calm moments. Not in the parenting books. Not in the Instagram quotes. But in the moments when I feel exposed. Powerless. Embarrassed. Vulnerable. Because that’s when my own nervous system takes the wheel.
What I Would Do Differently
If I could replay that morning, I wouldn’t focus on changing my toddler. I would focus on changing myself. I would stop trying to solve the situation immediately. I would take a breath before taking action. I would care less about what everyone around me thought. I would remember that a screaming child is not an emergency. And most importantly, I would remember that sometimes the fastest way through a meltdown is to stop fighting it.
Not every battle needs to be won. Sometimes it needs to be witnessed.
For the Parent Who Lost It Today
Maybe you yelled. Maybe you forced the shoes on. Maybe you carried the kicking child into the car. Maybe you did exactly what you swore you wouldn’t do.
You are not alone. The goal isn’t perfection. The goal isn’t never be triggered.
The goal is awareness. Because awareness is what allows us to repair. To apologize. To reconnect. To learn. And to do a little better next time. That morning wasn’t my proudest parenting moment. But it reminded me of something important. Conscious parenting isn’t measured by the days we stay calm. It’s measured by what we do after we don’t. And sometimes the most powerful lesson we can give our children is not that we are perfect. It’s that we are willing to come back, repair, and try again.
