For a long time, I had this idea that parents shouldn’t get mad.
I’m not sure where that belief came from. My own parents certainly got angry with me sometimes—and, honestly, some of my teenage antics probably deserved it.
Still, I was shocked by how angry I felt the first time my daughter really frustrated me.
I’m usually pretty calm under pressure. But that sudden rush of anger caught me off guard. It scared me. I didn’t like feeling as though I had lost control of my emotions. I wanted to raise my daughter without yelling or spanking, but in those moments of intense frustration, those reactions felt almost automatic.
I was lucky enough at the time to be a member of a parenting group. These were parents I’d been meeting with since my daughter was born. We had all been answering questions and cheering each other along the way. I was betting that there were other people in the group who had wisdom and experience to share.
I went in to figure out how to stop feeling angry so I could better soothe both my daughter’s distress and my own. Instead, they told me something I wasn’t expecting.
Feeling angry isn’t the problem. Since anger is a normal human emotion, the challenge is finding effective ways to express it. In fact, trying not to feel anger at all often backfires and leaves us feeling suppressed when trying to respond. The goal wasn’t to stop feeling angry. The goal was to understand it.
The first thing I had to practice was not to be afraid of anger.
I started by reminding myself that anger is normal.
One mom in my group suggested something simple: name my feelings out loud. At first it felt a little silly, but it has become one of the most useful tools I have.
Whenever I noticed myself moving away from my calm baseline, I would say, “I feel…” and fill in the blank. Sometimes the emotion was obvious. Other times I had to pause and sort through my sometimes-uncomfortable body sensations and thoughts to figure out exactly what I was feeling. Often it turned out to be more than one emotion at the same time.
Once I could name the feeling, I added a “because...” afterward. The point wasn’t to launch into a list of everything my daughter had done wrong. Instead, it was to identify the real reason behind my reaction.
“I feel angry because I didn’t see that coming.”
That simple exercise helped me stop blaming my daughter and start responding with more compassion—for both of us.
Once I understood why I was angry, the feeling became much less scary. And when I no longer felt overwhelmed by the emotion, I could think more clearly about how to respond.
Over time, I noticed a pattern. The situations that triggered the strongest reactions were usually the ones that blindsided me, especially those that were scary or time-consuming to deal with.
I never would have predicted that my daughter would dump every tack out of a bulletin board and into the carpet. Or spill an entire bottle of olive oil across the kitchen floor, at the end of a long day, before I made supper.
To prepare myself for these kinds of surprises, I started mentally rehearsing how I wanted to react. I would imagine walking into a room and finding my daughter drawing a face on the dining room wall with markers. In my mind, I practiced staying calm. I’ve been surprised to find that this mental rehearsal has helped with so many situations in real life.
And this mental rehearsal is what helped me become more comfortable with my stronger feelings that happen in unexpected, overwhelming situations. I was better able to help my daughter with her emotions, too. I could deal with her frustration when I took away the tacks, her fear after spilling the olive oil, and her confusion when I wasn’t thrilled with her wall art.
I also started reminding myself what life looks like from a toddler’s perspective.
My daughter had more physical abilities than she did as a baby, but she didn’t yet have impulse control. She didn’t have enough life experience to predict consequences the way adults do. Seeing situations through her eyes helped me adjust my expectations and respond more effectively.
“Put on your shoes first. Then tell me if you find a tack so we can pick them all up.”
“Can you bring me a towel for the oil spill? Actually, I think we’ll need another one.”
“Wow, that’s a very nice picture. But let’s put your drawing on paper so we can keep it. Then we’ll need to clean up the wall. We’ll frame your drawing and put it on the clean wall.”
When I approached these moments with understanding, they became opportunities to teach rather than opportunities to get angry.
This shift helped a lot, but it wasn’t enough on its own.
I also realized that I needed to be proactive throughout the rest of the day if I wanted to have fewer frustrating moments happening in the first place.
I moved tempting items—like markers—out of reach. This made me appreciate and continue to emphasize daily routines with regular times for waking up, play, meals, snacks, naps, and bedtime. When we were out and about, I tried to work around those routines, avoiding grocery trips during nap time and always carrying snacks.
At the time, I thought I was simply making life easier. Looking back, I realize I was also sharing important life skills like time management, planning ahead, and self-care—skills my daughter still uses today as a college student.
Those routines made a huge difference, but there was one more thing I learned never to overlook—sharing time together.
My daughter loved drawing together, taking walks, reading books while cuddled up on the couch, and being with me while I did chores.
Whenever tantrums suddenly seemed to increase, I learned to ask myself a few questions: Is she hungry? Tired? Coming down with a virus? And then one more: Have we had enough time together lately?
If she wasn’t hungry, tired, or sick, I made a point to spend extra one-on-one time with her. Each time I was able to do this, I usually realized something new and helpful. Maybe she hadn't slept well. Maybe she was going through a growth spurt. Maybe something else was going on that I couldn't see. Whatever the reason, she needed a little more time with me.
Sharing positive time together has often been the simplest part of parenting, except when life gets busy. Then it’s the easiest thing to push aside. Still, even during busy times, I could often share enjoyable time together in everyday moments like watering the houseplants or letting my toddler splash in the kitchen sink while “helping” to wash dishes.
My parent group was a huge source of support and inspiration, and laughter, for years. I wish that for every parent! Over the years, I was able to get more comfortable with all of my feelings, including anger, and what to do about that. I wasn’t perfect at this and sometimes I still reacted in the way I was trying to avoid. But practicing how to notice my anger and the real reason behind that and mentally rehearsing my reaction–along with my go-to’s of daily routines and spending time together–made parenting my daughter so much more enjoyable for me.
Still without fail, spending time together helps both of us feel better. It did then, and it still does.
