I screwed up today. I said a few things I shouldn’t have said. To be more specific, I used a few words in particular that I shouldn’t have used. (No, not that one.) I’m sure you never do this. You remember to take a deep breath and offer up a quick prayer of thanksgiving for your kids, even when you’re stretched thin. You manage to stay one step ahead of your raw emotions even when you need to leave for an appointment, only to find out that the nine-year-old has broken the doorknob, rendering it locked from the outside. You’re outside trying to walk the dog, who is suddenly Rain Man-focused on the scampering squirrels. Your children all come outside, even though you’ve told them to stay inside, and your unsuspecting 11-year-old, who knows the knob is broken, says, “Mom, do you have your keys?”

$@%&*!!

Wait, this has happened to you? Well, maybe not the doorknob thing, but there was a time when your stress got the better of you too?

So, what do you do when you know you’ve really screwed up with your kids? Sometimes I feel like all I’m doing is demonstrating what not to do, like my failures as a mother are stuck in a perpetual shuffle and repeat playlist. Do you ever feel that way?

The only thing I have found to break the cycle – even briefly – is to apologize. I don’t think my parents ever really apologized to me, but at the same time, I can’t remember them screwing up as much as I do. Sometimes I think we as parents erroneously try to establish our dominance by never apologizing, never showing weakness; but maybe this is just another thing we should add to our “what not to do” list.

By apologizing to our children we’re inviting them to share grace. We are allowing them the opportunity to forgive. We are demonstrating the frailty of humanity, that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness.

Once we finally (finally!) got into the van to leave for our appointment, I walked over to my son’s door, gave him a big hug and told him I was sorry for not disciplining my mouth and for using words I shouldn’t have used. He smiled and told me he forgave me. When my daughter piped up from the backseat with, “Why, what did she do?” (typical…) he smiled again and said, “nothing.” And, just like that, we were back in business.