Spoiler alert: I am not a chill mom.
I have googled how to be one, manifested it under full moons, and even tried that yoga pose where you lie flat on your back and pretend you’re fine. It’s called Savasana, but I call it “Mommy Has Left the Chat.”
Despite my best intentions—and several Pinterest boards—I still lose my temper with my kids. Sometimes it’s when the toddler insists on wearing rain boots in 40-degree heat. Other times, it’s when the baby wants to practice his falsetto shrieking at 3 AM for absolutely no reason other than “just vibes.”
But the kicker?
I’m writing a series on mindful parenting.
So let’s talk about it.
The “Chill” Mom Is a Myth.
You know the one.
She’s serene, unbothered, speaks in lullaby tones, and always seems to have a clean white living room.
Her toddler draws with crayons on paper, her baby naps on schedule, and she responds to tantrums with the emotional neutrality of a Buddhist monk.
She’s also completely fictional.
Real moms snap.
We yell.
We lock ourselves in the bathroom to regroup, only to be found within 11 seconds by a child who needs a snack, a sticker, or simply to inform us that they saw a lizard once.
So when we start comparing ourselves to this mythical chill mama, we don’t just feel inadequate—we start believing we’re doing it wrong.
Especially those of us trying to parent mindfully.
What “Mindful” Actually Means
(It’s Not “Calm”)
Here’s the truth:
Mindfulness is not about being calm all the time.
It’s about being aware of what’s happening in the moment—without judgment.
That includes noticing when your jaw clenches, when your voice gets sharp, or when your internal monologue starts resembling a Bollywood villain (“iBas! Ab aur nahi seh sakti!”).
It’s about catching yourself in the moment—or after the moment—and gently saying, “Okay. That didn’t go how I wanted. Let’s try again.”
Mindfulness gives you space. Not perfection.
Confession: I Lose It Too
The other day, I shouted.
Loud.
My toddler had just poured an entire sippy cup of milk into her toy basket for fun. The baby was howling in the background because apparently, naps are a form of oppression. I hadn’t eaten lunch, I was holding in a pee, and it was just too much.
I exploded. She cried. I felt like a monster.
But after a few deep breaths (and half a biscuit), I sat down with her.
I said, “I’m sorry I shouted. I was really tired and frustrated. But that wasn’t okay. Can we clean it up together?”
She nodded. We wiped up the dairy disaster. Then she asked, “Are you happy now?”
I wasn’t sure if she meant with her or myself. Either way, I said, “I’m working on it.”
So How Do We Practice Presence—Even During a Meltdown?
Whether it’s your tantrum or theirs, here are a few things that actually help me stay grounded-ish:
1. Name It to Tame It
Say what you feel, even in your head:
“I’m getting overwhelmed.”
“I’m frustrated because I just cleaned that floor.”
Naming the emotion reminds you that it’s not you, it’s a feeling. And feelings pass.
2. Pause the Performance
Forget being the perfect gentle-parent Instagram reel.
Just pause. Count to five. Step into the kitchen. Yell into a pillow. Say, “I need a moment.”
You are not weak for taking space. You’re wise.
3. Rupture and Repair
Losing it doesn’t mean you’ve ruined your child. What matters more is what you do after.
Apologize. Reconnect. Let them see that grown-ups get overwhelmed, too—and we clean up the emotional mess just like we clean up spilled milk.
4. Mindfulness in Micro-Moments
You don’t need a 20-minute meditation. Try noticing:
- The feel of your baby’s breath as they sleep on you
- The way your toddler’s chubby fingers hold a crayon
- Your own breath as you wait in line, or nurse, or stand over a sink full of dishes
Presence is found in the mundane. Not the mountaintop.
You’re Not a Bad Mom—You’re a Human One
We put so much pressure on ourselves to be calm, composed, and Pinterest-worthy, but our kids don’t need perfect moms.
They need present ones.
They need moms who say sorry. Moms who get mad, then get real. Moms who show them what it means to feel big things—and still love each other through it.
So if you’re also not a “chill” mom, welcome. Pull up a chair. We have snacks (usually half-eaten).
Let’s stop chasing serenity like it’s a personality trait.
Let’s start meeting ourselves with compassion even when—especially when—we don’t meet our own expectations.
You’re doing better than you think.
And honestly? That whole “chill mom” persona looks boring anyway.
With love (and a half-cold cup of chai),
The Mindfully Unchill Mama
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