Disclaimer: If you are a gentle parent 24/7 and have never raised your voice above a calm whisper while surrounded by chaos, my column this week is probably not for you. I still love you, but please kindly step aside while the rest of us scream into a dish towel and hope for the best. 

I don’t start the day yelling. I start with intentions, deep breaths and a perfectly brewed cup of coffee. Along with the gentle hum of (short-lived) calm, thanks to a little orange pill that helps keep my anxiety in check.

But by approximately 7:23 a.m., I’ve already said, “Put your shoes on,” five times to three different children, all apparently living in separate dimensions.

There’s Emerson, who has suddenly forgotten how time works and thinks “we’re late” is a suggestion, not a fact. Ashton who is usually halfway into a lecture about dinosaur extinction, begging her to brush her teeth. And Kameron….well she’s still running around naked from the waist down and very proud of it.

At this point, my voice goes up an octave, then another…Then I’m shouting across the house like I’m calling hogs, but with less optimism.

“WHY ARE WE STILL NOT IN THE CAR?!”

Of course, this is when someone (usually Emerson) pipes up: “Geez, Mom, you don’t have to yell.”

Child…

 I didn’t want to yell. I tried not to yell. In fact, if we rewind the tape, you’ll hear me calmly saying all these things earlier—soothingly, even sweetly—while packing lunches, feeding the dog, untangling a doll’s hair from the vacuum, and trying not to have a full-blown existential crisis before 8 a.m.

But here’s the thing: Even the most medicated mom, with therapy under her belt and mantras on her mirror, has a threshold, a breaking point, a line (and that line is usually crusted with syrup or suckers or anything really sticky!)

I don’t yell because I’m mean. I yell because I’m human and because apparently, in this house, “Let’s go” translates to “Please continue doing the opposite of what I just asked while making loud unrelated noises.”

Some days I feel guilty. Other days, I remind myself that no one gets it right 100% of the time. We’re all doing our best with the tools we have and sometimes, those tools include coffee, a quick cry in the laundry room and a well-placed “GET. IN. THE. CAR. NOW.”

At the end of the day, my kids know I love them. They’re safe, fed and surrounded by laughter, boundaries, unconditional love… and yes, occasionally, a very loud mom voice.

But hey… at least they finally put their shoes on!!!!

(Paige Gurgainers is a mom of three girls, digital journalist for Webster Parish Journal.)