Even a Rough Morning Dosen't Have to Ruin the Day

You know those mornings where it’s only 8 a.m., but it already feels like bedtime should be near? That was me a couple of days ago.

Let me set up the scene. 

My daughter had been up the previous night multiple times crying. My husband and I would take shifts to go comfort her and try to put her down. She did go down after about 3 hours of going back and forth. In the meantime, my son was trying to sleep in the same room. He was pretty patient with her at first, and then he starts screaming, "I'm trying to go to sleep. You are hurting my ears" (which I completely was on the same page). We told him to sleep in our room for that night. I am now sleep deprived. I feel like I am back in my newborn/ first year of no sleep stage. The next morning, the kids wake up at 6:15 am. It is the ultimate test for my patience that morning. 

My son was just irritated and testing everything. Like most kids, when he is tired, he is not rational. I am pretty understanding of his sleep deprivation and lack of coping skills. But the number of times I had to separate my two kids was getting exhausting, and I just wanted to sleep. 

I won't go through the entire day, but you can imagine that with a sleep deprived adult and 3 year old, things were difficult. 

At one point, I had my crying and irrational 3 year old who was just unhappy with everything. He would ask for one thing, and then cry for something else. I could feel the anger and resentment bubble up inside of me. My children took away my sleep and now they are just annoying me. I just need to be alone. 

But this alternative thought popped up. “Just hug him.” So I did—I held him as he cried. His cries turned from whines to him repeating "mama" and him just wanting to be held. The crying ended and he just laid in my lap. He then said, "I'm tired". We talked about how his sister was up, and he said, "mom, it was a rough morning". I agreed, and we just sat on the couch. We read some books. He then got up, and the rest of the day went much smoother. 

I was so grateful that this thought popped up and that I chose to follow it. I didn't want to follow through, as I wanted to put him in his room and tell him to come back when he stopped crying. I'm not writing this to show how "good" of a mom I am, but I wanted to mainly point out that a couple things I learned from this interaction. 

The Power of the Pause

There are times when we need to react quickly, and times when we simply need to pause and observe.

That pause gives us three important things:

• Understanding of our child’s triggers and behaviors

• A chance to regulate ourselves

• A buffer to avoid reacting in a harmful or unhelpful way

Understanding your child’s behaviors and motivations doesn’t excuse the behavior—but it does help you see the whole picture. From that place, you can help them learn how to better manage their emotions and responses.

One of the best gifts we can give our children is doing our best to model healthy self-regulation. And I say that knowing self-regulation is a lifelong challenge—for us and for them. Perfection isn’t the goal. Sometimes, the gift is showing our children that adults have rough mornings too.

Pausing also helps us avoid unnecessary power struggles or hurtful reactions. Sometimes we need to take a breath, change the scenery, or step away. If doing that brings you back to a better place—do it. Do it for yourself and your kids.

Observing the Volcano 

After I held my son when he was just crying, I watched him and I could imagine this huge wave of emotions crash. He was resisting my hug, and eventually he let me hold him. He then cuddled up with me and just surrendered.

When I was working in school districts as a therapist, I would often do the volcano activity with kids to demonstrate emotional regulation. We started first by watching a video of a volcano eruption. We would draw one together, and then write the numbers 1 through 10 with one at the bottom of the volcano to 10 at the top. We would write what it looks like when they are calm (which was number one), and we would escalate the behavior and emotions, until they reached number 10, where they would emotionally explode. 

I observed my son go through these numbers quickly. Watching my son go through this process was helpful for me to understand him at the moment. He was not trying to annoy me. He was not trying to be a bad kid. He was an overtired child who needed their parent to help them regulate and teach them how to gain self-control. 

Our conversation was clear and rational after he was calm. It was a beautiful moment and one where we could say "It's okay to have a rough morning". 

He learned that his emotions weren’t bad. That he wasn’t a bad kid. That his mom still loved him—even in the mess. And that even a rough morning doesn’t have to ruin the whole day.

So if you’re ever in that 8 a.m. fog, overwhelmed and running on empty—pause. Observe. Hug. It might just turn everything around.