Why I Stopped Trying to Be More Patient with My Kids

I’ve spent years trying to be more patient with my kids. 

You know the moments I mean – when they’re calling “Mom! Mom! MOM!” for the fifteenth time in five minutes. When they’re asking me to find something they haven’t even looked for. When I’ve asked them to get dressed what feels like twenty times, and they’re still in pajamas, fascinated by a dust particle floating in the sunlight.

I’ve read the articles. I’ve tried the deep breathing. I’ve attempted to channel my inner zen master. And still, sometimes, I lose my cool.

For so long, I thought the answer was to find more patience. To somehow expand my capacity to stay calm in these moments that feel designed to push every button I have.

I felt like I was failing when my voice got sharp or when exasperation leaked into my tone. Each time I reacted with frustration instead of serene understanding, I added another tally to my “bad mom” scorecard.

But recently, I had a revelation that turned everything upside down.

What if I stopped trying to be more patient with my kids and started being patient with myself instead?

What if, instead of seeing my reactions as failures, I recognized them as normal responses to genuinely challenging situations? What if I acknowledged that being repeatedly ignored, interrupted, or having to endlessly repeat myself would test anyone’s limits?

Here’s what I’ve discovered since making this shift:

When I stopped beating myself up for losing my cool, I actually found myself handling situations better. Not because I became magically more patient, but because I wasn’t using up all my emotional energy on self-criticism. I realized that showing my kids that mom gets frustrated sometimes – and then modeling how to repair and reconnect – might actually be more valuable than maintaining a facade of endless patience.

I’ve learned that my kids aren’t damaged by seeing me experience real emotions. In fact, they’re learning something crucial: that feelings are normal, that we can lose our cool and still love each other, that we can repair relationships after difficult moments. They’re seeing that perfection isn’t the goal – humanity is.

This doesn’t mean I’ve given up on being patient with my kids. But now, when I find myself reaching the end of my rope, I try to extend the same grace to myself that I would to a friend who told me she’d had a rough morning with her kids. Instead of immediately jumping to “I should be more patient,” I acknowledge the challenge of the moment. Sometimes I even say it out loud: “This is really frustrating for me right now, and that’s okay.”

To the mom who’s reading this and recognizing herself in these words:

Your challenges with patience don’t make you a bad mom. They make you a human mom. Your kids don’t need you to be endlessly patient – they need you to be real, present, and willing to keep showing up, even when it’s messy.

Maybe the patience we’ve been searching for isn’t about stretching our tolerance to superhuman levels.

Maybe it’s about accepting our very human limits with compassion, and teaching our kids that love doesn’t require perfection.