Funny Mom Stories That Prove None of Us Are Winning, But at Least We’re Laughing

Motherhood is beautiful.Also? It’s the craziest unpaid job I’ve ever had.And I once worked in a kitchen with three ex-convicts and two Cuban refugees. 

Anyway.

Welcome to Snackbitches, home of funny mom stories, unfiltered chaos, and the kind of parenting wisdom you can only gain by stepping on a Lego barefoot. If you’re looking for stories that will make you feel seen, laugh-snort, or feel slightly better about your own life decisions — buckle up, mommy.

The one where my toddler ruined my soul

One bedtime, I was doing the gentle mom thing: rubbing my youngest’s hair as he drifted off peacefully, probably dreaming of fruit snacks and mild destruction. He looked up at the wall of family photos and asked, “Why am I not in any of these?”

A direct shot to the heart.

So the next morning, this mom took action. I scheduled a full-on photoshoot. Picked the outfits. Bribed the siblings. Got the shots.That was three months ago. Guess whose picture is still not on the wall? Guess whose mom decided to forget again? He brings it up weekly. We’ll call it “memory building.”

The pee chronicles: A mother’s journey

There was the day we were at a bookstore (yes, my kids read, don't act surprised), and I told my youngest he could pick out a book. He got so excited, he peed himself. No backup clothes. Just vibes and damp socks.

And then there was me. On a trampoline. Thinking I could still be fun.Long story short?I peed too. A full summersault and an empty bladder later, my children were screaming with lots of laughter and betrayal. They still retell it like it’s their favorite bedtime story. Somewhere between Goodnight Moon and mom humiliated herself again.

It’s the kind of funny story about your mom that I fully expect them to share on Mother’s Day, possibly in a slideshow.

The middle child who deserves better

I’m not proud of this one, but here we are.

My third kid (aka the second child, if you don't include the oldest since she's the only girl and third child is the second boy) is showing classic middle child syndrome signs. Not quite adorable anymore, not dramatic enough to demand attention, and just emotionally hovering around the snack drawer.

He deserves better. But I also haven’t eaten lunch and don’t remember my own middle name.

He asks for snacks quietly, finishes his homework without being told, and honestly could probably raise himself at this point. I once forgot him at soccer practice and he didn’t even mention it until the next day. That’s either resilience… or resignation. Either way, I owe him a donut.

The tantrum olympics (and I’m losing)

If there were medals for emotional endurance, my toddler would be wearing gold. And glitter. And screaming that he wanted the silver insteaad.

We’ve reached the stage where tantrums are less about actual needs and more about vibes. You didn’t open the granola bar right? Tantrum. The moon looked at him weird? Full-body sobbing. I once had to negotiate a ceasefire over a sock that allegedly “felt mean.”

Meanwhile, I’m Googling “toddler tantrum survival” like it’s a mid-level hostage situation and not just 8:12 a.m. on a Tuesday.

I don’t yell (out loud). But my soul is hoarse.

Things that make me feel like a good mom for five seconds

Sometimes I feel like I’m winning.Like when my kids can name the movie, song, or pop culture reference in our nightly “Name That Reference” game. We’re watching ‘90s and 2000s classics every weekend and they’re actually into it. No one’s called it cringe. Yet. That’s a W.

Also, I’ve successfully brainwashed all of them into loving Bad Bunny. Their tiny voices singing “Tití Me Preguntó” in the backseat? Better than therapy.

And once, my son looked me dead in the eye and said, “I guess you're not that cringe.”I’ll take it.

Quora didn’t prepare me for this

I once looked up “how to parent without losing your mind” on Quora.That was a mistake.

No one there mentioned what to do when your kid roasts you for being emotional and calls you “a pick-me girl” because you dared say, “You’re being kind of mean.” The only thing I picked was the wrong era to be a mother in.

Also, apparently, I don’t “get their humor.” No, I get it. It’s just…mean. I grew up on Reader’s Digest jokes. Now I’m living with tiny comedians who weaponize sarcasm like it's an Olympic sport.

My parenting style is chaos with a hint of pinterest

There are days I wake up and think: I’m going to be the mom who makes homemade trail mix and sets affirmations in lunch boxes. And then someone spills orange juice into a shoe and all bets are off.

So yes, sometimes I’m organized. Do I color-code practically everything? Yes! Do I have a basket that I throw things int o organize later? Also, yes. Do I actually fold clothes and put them nicely into their drawers? Triple check! 

My parenting philosophy? If everyone got fed, nobody bled, and you managed a single smile? Success.

Now excuse me while I make a Mother’s Day wish list that just says “hotel room. alone.”

The takeaway: Don’t ask me for advice

I don’t know how to parent without yelling.I don’t know why I can plan an entire Halloween costume in 36 minutes but still haven’t scheduled the dentist.And I certainly don’t know how to stop my toddler from tantrum-throwing in Target when I won’t buy them “the blue yogurt that looks like Elsa.”

What I do know is this: if you’ve ever felt alone in the madness, or laughed until you peed (twice), you’re in the right place.

So here’s to the moms, the mamas, the mums, the mother-figures out there just trying to make it to bedtime without emotionally combusting.We see you. We hear you.We are you.

And next Mother’s Day, let’s all agree: no spa gift cards. Just an hour alone in the car and no one yelling.