The Rollercoaster of Parenthood
The key is learning to ride the highs and the lows
We say that motherhood is a paradox, which it is. But what we don't talk about enough is that it's also filled with extreme highs and lows that happen back-to-back… sometimes within the same minute. The more sensitive you are to stimulation, the more you're probably impacted by it. Before I had a child, I didn't understand this emotional whiplash. I only saw the lows, which led me to seriously think everyone who chose parenthood was clinically insane.
But now that I'm a parent, I understand that many of the highs don't happen in public. They aren't seen. They're small, quiet moments like when my daughter says "I love you mama" or steals my phone while FaceTiming her grandma to give her a kiss to the screen. These moments are fleeting but powerful enough to sustain you through the chaos that inevitably follows.
The truth is, parenting is such a rollercoaster because KIDS are a rollercoaster. Children are not emotionally regulated… at all. That's actually the most important job of being a parent— being a source of stability and lending your emotional regulation skills to them (like helping them balance on a bike). It's easier said than done because it's a massive emotional job to regulate yourself while someone is screaming in your face that they hate you or throwing their shoe at your head. But it is the truth.
A lot of what I write about here are things I wanted to read when I wasn't sure if I wanted a child. Or when I decided I wanted one but was flat-out terrified and honestly resentful at myself for wanting one because I thought it would blow up my life. So as I was doing my daughter's bedtime routine tonight, I realized this is a perfect example of exactly what parents talk about with the ups and downs. And I thought this would be something that someone on the fence might find helpful. So without further ado... this is the insanity of being a parent with time stamps!!
Also PS for context: I have a two-year-old. I expect things may even out a bit... but the funny thing is, the more kids even out and emotionally regulate themselves (and have fewer breakdowns), the less they'll also be unapologetically obsessed with you and think you're the most incredible thing in the world. Evolution knew what it was doing with toddlers—we need the sweet moments to balance out the tantrums. This phase doesn't last forever (thank god), but it's simultaneously the hardest and sweetest age. Also, feel free to judge me and my child. I'm sure someone has a better-behaved toddler out there.
6:45pm I announce bath time. My daughter's response? Collapsing dramatically onto the floor with a resounding "NO!" I pivot: "Oooo, want to help mama do laundry?" Suddenly, she's bounding upstairs shouting "LAUNDRY!" with the enthusiasm of someone who just won the lottery. She discovers a dirty blankie on the floor—a prize possession. In the laundry room, she guards this filthy treasure from me with the determination of a tiny vigilante.
6:50pm Bath water running, she spots the potty and decides now's the perfect time to "practice." As I check the water temperature, I hear a splash. Turn around to find—horror—her beloved blankie taking a swim in the toilet. Cue the meltdown as I rescue the soggy blanket from its pool party.
6:55pm Bath time becomes a standoff. She refuses to sit down, so I quickly attempt to lather her body and pour water on her, hoping she doesn’t slip and fall, while she stands rigid. Post-bath, I try wrapping her in a towel. "Ooo, so cozy!"I say. She smiles briefly before remembering she's supposed to be outraged. The towel becomes a floor decoration. I have to pin her down to put a diaper on her as she wiggles and tries to push my hand away.
6:57pm I channel my inner game show host: "Whoooo wants LOTION?!" This simple question transforms her from rage monster to delighted dinosaur as she stomps around the room: "STOMP STOMP STOMP DINOSAUR!"
7:02pm "Which PJs? Flowers or hearts?" I ask, offering the parenting-expert-approved limited choices. "NO!" she declares, sprinting away from me into the laundry room to hide I wonder what Dr. Becky would tell me to do. But wait! She can see her reflection on the door of the machine "WHO DAT?" she asks, distracted. "That's you, silly!" She climbs onto my lap, her dripping hair forming a pool of water that soaks my shirt. I breathe in her clean-diaper smell—weird but wonderful IYKYK—as she rests her head against me. The world pauses for a moment.
7:05pm We sing "Rockabye Baby". Her version that makes very little sense and I can only follow because I have heard it a hundred times. The sound effects I make while putting on her pajamas earn giggles instead of resistance. A brief ceasefire in the bedtime battles.
7:07pm Carefully I whisper, "let's go night-night." She takes my hand willingly, but my mention of teeth-brushing triggers her to rip her hand away from me and throw herself on the floor. I drop beside her: "Can you ROAR like a lion?!" Suddenly she's all open mouth and giggles. She demands more toothpaste so we head to the bathroom, happily brushing and wanting zero help while admiring herself in the mirror.
7:10pm She wants to keep brushing and I sense the fragile peace crumbling, so I deploy the nuclear option: mirror peek-a-boo. She erupts in laughter like it's the most original game ever invented. "DO AGAIN! DO AGAIN!" We take turns, and I simultaneously want to continue doing this because I know these are moments I will remember forever, while also feel the crushing weight of exhaustion on my shoulders.
7:12pm Book selection. She finds only the cover of her favorite book, separated from its pages. Frustration builds until I tempt her with another book and she obliges, climbing happily onto my lap. I read and she points at illustrations: "Llama sad!" "Llama scared!" "Oh no!" Then, unprompted she looks me right in the eye and says "I love you, mama."
7:15pm Final negotiations. Pacifiers (crib-only contraband) lure her toward sleep. She attempts to climb out, then gives up as I promise her mama and dada will see her in the morning. She repeats my words as she wipes fat tears from her eyes: "Mama morning," "Dada back soom," "Teddy dowsairs." I rub her back until she surrenders to sleep, then creep out of her room.
Perhaps the most important lesson I've learned about motherhood is this. It's not just a paradox—it's a rollercoaster designed to give you emotional whiplash. And getting a little motion sickness along the way isn't a sign you're doing something wrong. It's proof you're on the right ride. No one tells you that you'll experience the highest highs and lowest lows within the same 30-minute bedtime routine, or that you'll question your sanity multiple times only to have your heart completely melt moments later.
This constant emotional ping-pong isn't a bug in the parenting system. It's a feature. It's preparing you for a lifetime of holding contradictory emotions: pride and worry, joy and frustration, overwhelming love and desperate need for space. The sooner we normalize the rollercoaster, the sooner we can stop feeling like we're the only ones getting sick on the ride.
When you are in the throws of early parenthood, it is so hard to enjoy every minute. My favorite quote about this is from
who says in an article“There’s no sense in trying to cherish every moment of early parenting as it happens…. Too much is going on and much of it isn’t enjoyable. But keep an eye out for the precious moments amid tumult and chaos. Do what you can to imprint them in your memory… collect them like gems so that when your arms are finally free and your eyes a little clearer, you can turn them over in your hand.”
Thanks for reading!
Amanda
PS- If you are looking for a therapist, check out my practice Therapy for Women Center. We have therapists licensed in 42 states across the country (and in Philly, the Main Line & NJ) and specialize in working with moms and women unsure if they want kids!
PPS- I have another substack! Did you know? Probably not because I am not good at advertising myself. It’s called Nuance Needed and is an extension of my podcast, where I debunk mental health misinformation and therapy speak and create space for nuance. Come check it out!
Thank you for sharing this and normalizing the ebb and flow of hard and good. I have an 19 month old and oof. I enjoy hearing others experiences because it helps to validate my feelings of hard. I just read Maternal Ambivalence by Margo Lowy. It’s a great read on experiencing both the good and bad feelings, and holding space for both.