The Raw Side of Parenting We Don’t Talk About Enough
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The Raw Side of Parenting We Don’t Talk About Enough
I want to share the rawness of parenting—the side we don’t often see, and the side we rarely talk about.
Let me tell you how my day went yesterday… but actually, rewind a week first (because I have spaghetti brain and type the way I talk—just go with it, friend).
I had committed to these parent coaching sessions, and I knew that being an exclusively stay-at-home mum, it was going to be challenging to do them without a plan in place. Something I know all my Army mumma's out there, especially those solo parenting in new locations, will deeply relate to. You know the drill—just posted somewhere new, trying to find your rhythm, and wondering how you’re supposed to juggle everything.
One morning, I woke up and thought: We need to do something with the backyard.
I needed a space for the kids to play—so I could have time to work, clean the house, and have my coaching sessions without being the full-time entertainment committee.
So, I started searching for outdoor play equipment and water play toys. But then I realised the shipping cost to get anything up north was the same as—or more than—the actual equipment.
Of course. Classic NT.
Eventually, I headed to Bunnings and found an outdoor mud kitchen, a water play table, and some sand. “This will do for now,” I thought.
Now, let me pause here and say this: I am no builder.
This fact did cross my mind as I stood in the outdoor garden section, contemplating my life decisions. But I thought, If I can fix a washing machine door, how hard can it be to build some play equipment?
WRONG.
I am talented in many things, but fixing and building is not one of them. (That’s why I married a builder. 😂)
And y’all—when I say I had a meltdown like a toddler learning to self-regulate, I’m not exaggerating.
I was cursing under my breath, questioning my choices, and wondering if this was even worth it.
All while a baby and two toddlers were climbing all over me.
Christian had mixed up all the screws. One kid was peeling the stickers off the timber. I was using a measuring tape to figure out what belonged where.
Note to self: BUILD STUFF WHILE THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP.
But after a night of pure chaos… I did it.
I actually built the water table and the outdoor mud kitchen—with babies hanging off me. It was hard, but I felt so accomplished.
The Repair Is Always Worth It
Afterwards, I sat in the mess and realised—I needed to apologise to my kids.
I’d snapped at them. Gotten overwhelmed. Raised my voice.
So I sat down and said:
“I’m sorry that I was snapping at you guys. It wasn’t your fault. My emotions are mine, not yours to carry. Can I ask for your forgiveness?”
Christian replied, “It’s okay, Mummy. We know you’re not the builder—Daddy and I are.”
😭 I laughed and agreed.
Sowing Seeds in Little Hearts
Galatians 6:7–8 reminds us that we will reap what we sow.
And I can’t stress enough how important the “repair” piece is in parenting—or in any relationship, really.
Not repairing can have lasting impacts on our children once they’re grown.
I know this firsthand, with my own parents.
I never used to apologise to Christian when he was little—because I didn’t know the same principles applied to children. It seems obvious now, but my 26-year-old self had never seen it modelled. I didn’t realise how vital it was to reflect, own my behaviour, and apologise when I got it wrong with my children.
Instead, I would just spiral into mum guilt and cry to my husband. Sound familiar?
Breaking Generational Patterns
This wasn’t something I saw growing up.
Not once in my childhood do I remember either of my parents apologising for their actions.
In our home, children were seen and not heard.
We weren’t allowed to challenge an adult’s opinion—even when it was wrong.
I am far from a perfect parent. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my upbringing, it’s this:
The repair matters.
We’re teaching our kids that it’s okay to make mistakes—even as adults.
What matters is that we take responsibility and work to mend what might have been broken.
There’s something powerful about being that kind of role model. It teaches grace. It teaches humility. And it teaches love.
A Crumpled Piece of Paper
There’s an analogy I once saw on Facebook that stuck with me:
If your child’s heart is like a fresh piece of paper, and you speak harshly to them out of frustration, it crumples just a little. And every time we speak from that place of anger or shame, it crumples more. Eventually, the paper is so wrinkled, it can’t ever go back to its beautiful, crisp form.
That hit me.
Proverbs 18:21 tells us, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue…”
Our words matter.
Ephesians 4:29 reminds us to speak only what is helpful for building others up.
That includes our children.
Grace in the Chaos
This takes so much practice, I know.
It’s the area I pray over constantly.
I can be quick to frustration—especially when I’m solo parenting or in survival mode. It’s hard to admit that here, where I know some people might judge me. But I also know I’m not alone.
There are so many of us who default into shame and blame when we’re overwhelmed.
But it’s not about being perfect.
It’s about what we do next.
🙏 A Prayer for the Mamma Who’s Tired and Trying
Lord, I come before You tired, overwhelmed, and unsure if I’m doing this right.
Remind me that I don’t have to be a perfect mum—I just have to be a present one.
Help me model grace and truth in my home.
Teach me to slow down, to breathe deeply, and to lean on You in the moments when I want to break.
Heal the places in me that feel crumpled. Soften my heart and my words.
Let my children see You in me—not because I never fail, but because I know how to return to You when I do.
Thank You for Your mercies that are new every morning.
Strengthen me for today, Lord, and remind me that I am never alone in this calling.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.
💛 Before You Go...
If this spoke to your heart, I’d love to hear from you.
Leave a comment, send a message, or tag a fellow mum who might need this reminder today. You’re not just doing dishes and wiping tears—you’re building a legacy.
And God sees it all.