What you see:

The TikTok highlight reel, the photo of us smiling in front of the Christmas tree, the Instagram story of Ishu’s eyes getting really wide when Santa boards the train.

What you don’t see:

Everything that led up to that point.

What you think:

A mom who has her shit together and, though she may not dress the part, she can effortlessly give her kids a magical holiday experience.

What you don’t know:

Five minutes AFTER we were supposed to be out the door, my child decides to pour all the water out of his bottle onto the floor. He was mad that *I* filled up his waterbottle and *I* closed the lid. And to handle those frustrating emotions, he emptied the dang thing all over the floor.

Something in me snapped.

I said something along the lines of, “Are you actually crazy?!” I walked out the door and threatened to go without him, closing the door behind me. Making my three-year old think he was going to be home alone while the baby and I went to the Polar Express.

I responded with, “Well, that’s your own fault now, isn’t it? Now you’ll be wet and cold,” when my kid said, “Mama, my pants are all wet.”

I pushed the elevator button out of spite. And then as he was trying to run back into the lobby to do it all over again, I picked him up from the back of his jacket and put him in the car seat, all while he was kicking and screaming.

“MAYBE WE WON’T DO FUN CHRISTMAS THINGS THEN!” I shouted.

A repairman, who was parked next to my car, looked at me and said, “You have your hands full. It gets better. I’ve been there.”

I smiled at him and said, “Ha. Good to know. Have a good one!” with the patience and consideration I didn’t have for my child.

Yeah.

The pictures and reel didn’t capture any of that.

It was about a 15-minute ride to Union Station. And by the end of it, both Ishu and I had taken deep breaths and calmed down. With a lump in my throat, I turned back to look at him and said, “I’m so sorry that Mama was not being kind at home.”

My kid started tearing up again.

He responded with the most gut-wrenching statement.

“When you were yelling at me, I was starting to not love you anymore.”

My heart.

My sweet baby.

At this point, the tears were streaming down my face. And I reached behind to grab his hand as I said, “Mama is still learning how to be a mama of two kids when I’m all by myself. It’s hard for me and sometimes I mess up and I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

He stared out the window, saying nothing. Maybe contemplating my words. Maybe thinking about the train. Who knows?

By the time we parked the car, he had moved on entirely. He was playing with the baby, finding little trinkets in the car while I strapped the carrier on, talking excitedly about the Polar Express.

When we got out of the car, his little hand reached for mine.

And when we were in the elevator, I told him – once again – that I loved him.

This time, he said it back. As if the last hour of our life didn’t happen.

Of course it did.

But, I’m reminded of something my therapist once shared with me.

She said, the happiest of families are not the ones where these blow-ups don’t happen. They’re the ones that talk about it afterward. That reflect and repair and reconnect.

So, I guess that’s what we were doing right then.

Reconnecting.

Recognizing we both have things to work on and remembering to come back together after the fall-out.

Anyway, I think I needed to write that out. Because there is so much you’re not seeing when I share a snapshot of our holiday adventures.

A reminder to you (and to me) that December can feel hard. And while all of us are sharing these beautiful, magical moments, there are so many messy moments you’re not seeing. And you’re not a bad person for snapping or being less than patient during the holidays. You’re a human being who is likely overstimulated, overworked, overtired, overwhelmed.

And if you’re a mama and have had these less-than-stellar moments with your kiddos, you are a GOOD MOM. A GOOD, TIRED MOM.

Talk about the things with your kids. No matter how little they are. I mean, I can’t predict what Ishu’s going to feel 30 years from now. But I’m pretty sure he is starting to realize I’m a human who messes up sometimes, but I love him more than anything in this world. And I think it’s because I’m not sweeping it under the rug. I’m shining a light on it and saying, “HEY! SEE THIS THING I DID! I DON’T THINK IT WAS THAT COOL EITHER. I’M SORRY AND I’LL TRY TO DO BETTER NEXT TIME AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.”

So there’s a little verbal snapshot of what you didn’t see. And what you didn’t know.

Hope it makes you feel a little more human today.