The Momster Within
Ever feel like your feelings are magnified as a mom?
Motherhood unleashed a love I never could have imagined. I would walk through fire for my kids. I feel their pain like it’s my own, I cry when they’re sad, I beam when they’re proud, and my heart feels like it could burst when they unprompted tell me they love me or that they’re glad I’m their mom.
But the flip side? I didn’t know rage like this existed until I became a mom.
Not just irritation, and not really anger. Rage almost doesn’t seem like the right word but it feels like full-body, heart-racing, red-faced rage. I’m not an angry person by nature, but sometimes something triggers a tidal wave of emotion that feels completely out of my control.
It’s not always over “big” things. Sometimes it’s because someone touched the stack of papers on my desk after I asked them not to. Sometimes it’s because they dragged all the groceries out of the bags and left them scattered like landmines while hunting for their “monkey milk.” It’s the 900th question before I’ve had a chance to process and answer the first one. Or the sticky little hands touching me 52 times in three minutes.
I LOVE my kids. Deeply. But these moments? They can unleash the momster. The version of me who isn’t regulated, who snaps, yells, isolates, or even cries because I’m overstimulated, out-touched or overwhelmed.
The rage bubbles up before I can even tell them to stop.
The worst was when my 3-year-old looked at me and said, “Why do you get mad when we come home?”
Gut. Punch.
She wasn’t wrong. From her perspective, I go from work mode to mad mode as soon as they walk in the door. That night, I cried thinking about how much that must hurt. I wasn’t mad that they were home, I love when they’re home. I was overstimulated, overwhelmed, and completely maxed out and I snapped instead of showing up the way she needed.
That split second between shutting my laptop and being climbed on, questioned, hugged, and whined at? Brutal. It overrides every sense and I can feel the bubble rising.
For me, it’s like jumping straight from the deep end of a high-stress job into a sensory hurricane. For them, it’s walking into their safe place, where emotions can finally unravel after holding it together at school.
Two worlds colliding. Cue the “momster.”
So Where Does Mom Rage Come From?
First, let’s be clear: rage doesn’t make you a “bad mom.” Most of the time it isn’t even true rage, it’s dysregulation. It’s a human nervous system pushed past its limit.
Overstimulation: Too much noise, touching, clutter, or chaos all at once.
Mental load: The constant hum of lists, responsibilities, and “don’t forgets.”
Zero buffer: Shifting straight from work stress to parenting stress without transition.
Unmet needs: Hunger, exhaustion, lack of support, no personal time.
Attachment patterns: Yes, our attachment style shapes how we respond, but sometimes it’s simply sensory overload.
Big love: The depth of our love magnifies every emotion—including anger.
It’s not our kids being “bad.” It’s our nervous systems running on empty and their need for connection colliding with our need for space.
Quick Check-In: Am I Escalating?
When you feel the momster creeping up, ask yourself:
☑️ Am I hungry, thirsty, or running on fumes?
☑️ Am I overstimulated by sound, touch, or clutter?
☑️ Am I holding resentment about doing it all?
☑️ Am I missing a transition or buffer?
☑️ Do I need help or support right now?
Sometimes just naming why you’re escalating gives enough pause to reset before the eruption. It also gives you clues about what needs more attention in your routine so you can build in buffers and support.
Taming the Momster: Skills That Help
Taming the momster isn’t about never losing it, it’s about building strategies to stay regulated and knowing how to repair when we don’t. Both matter.
Name it out loud. Even joking “uh oh, momster is bubbling up” reduces shame. Or simply saying, “I’m feeling really overwhelmed.”
Movement release. Dance it out, stomp your feet, go for a walk, or belt a song at full volume.
Micro-breaks. A few minutes of silence, stepping outside, or splashing cold water on your face.
Grounding resets. Scent (essential oil, lotion, candle), finger tapping, or a slow double inhale, long exhale.
Ask for help. Tag in a partner, phone a friend, or remind yourself you don’t have to do it all.
Repairing After the Momster Appears
The truth? It’s not about perfection, it’s about how we come back together afterwards. Repair is the bridge that turns rupture into resilience.
Why repair matters:
Attachment & safety. When we take responsibility, our kids feel secure that they’re loved no matter what.
Modeling. They learn that mistakes, big feelings, and apologies are part of relationships.
Resilience. Repair shows them that conflict doesn’t end connection—it strengthens it.
How to repair:
Apologize clearly. Own your behavior without placing blame: “Mommy was feeling overwhelmed and I yelled. I’m sorry. I love you.”
Name your feelings. This normalizes emotions: “I was frustrated and tired, and I didn’t handle it well.”
Offer comfort. A hug, a snuggle, or even playful silliness communicates safety more than words.
Check in. Ask: “Are you okay? Did I scare you?” Give them space to share too.
Repair with play. Reset with a dance, a game, or shared laughter.
Try again. Invite a do-over: “Can we start fresh and try snack time again?”
What repair looked like for me:
When my daughter asked why I get mad when she comes home, I felt devastated. I took a few deep breaths, waited a moment, and then went to her. I said, “I love when you’re home. Sometimes mommy gets frustrated because I’m trying to do so many things at once and I need a minute to respond. I shouldn’t have yelled, and I’m working on it. I’m sorry. Can you try again to tell me what you need?” Then I asked if she wanted a cuddle.
My little velcro koala climbed into my lap, told me it was okay, and that she loved me. Cue my heart melting. We snuggled for a few minutes. The momster went away, she felt at peace, and we got a chance to talk and love. That moment of repair mattered more than the snap.
Repair doesn’t erase what happened, it teaches kids that relationships bend and bounce back. That lesson is a gift they’ll carry into every relationship they have.
The Bigger Picture
Here’s the truth: rage and love are neighbors. They sit side by side in motherhood because we care so deeply. Some days I’m teary over their sweetness, other days I’m raging because someone breathed too loudly.
And yes, certain times of day, like the after-school witching hour, make it even harder to hold it together. When the whining, fighting, and snack demands hit all at once, my nervous system feels like it’s on fire. That’s why taming the momster isn’t just about repairing after the storm, it’s about knowing your triggers, building in transition time, and practicing resets before things explode.
We are not robots. We are human. We are not perfect and we shouldn’t be. Our kids don’t need perfect moms. They need real ones who can name feelings, repair after conflict, and model that love always wins in the end.
So yes, the momster sneaks out sometimes but she never gets the last word. Love does.
Cheering you on through the chaos,
Katelyn – Messy but Managed
If you want the little stories and reflections that don’t make it to the blog, you’ll find them on Instagram → @messybutmanaged
✨ Messy but Managed is more fun when it’s a conversation. Tell me, what part of this post resonated with you? Drop a comment below so we can swap stories and remind each other we’re not alone in the chaos. 💬