For a long time, there was something about getting my kids to put shoes on their feet and leave the house that made me feel like I was five levels into Dante’s Inferno. 

Some days, I’d say, “Get your shoes on!”—a phrase they’d heard literally every day of their lives—and they’d wander into the laundry room, lock eyes with their Crocs, and then look at me like I just asked them to translate ancient Aramaic. Shoes? Mother, we’ve never even heard of such things.

Other days, we wouldn’t even make it to the laundry room before someone was sobbing over a sock that was, and I quote, “sad and vanilla.” I still have no idea what that meant, but it’s currently at THE TOP of my “Questions for God” list—right above why was that always the reason we were late?

And here’s the thing—I know I’m not the only one with a trigger moment like this.

Maybe for you, it’s the after-school chaos. Or the bedtime showdown. Or the “we’re turning off the screen now” conversation that inevitably leads to a fight. 

Maybe it has nothing to do with kids. Maybe it’s when your mother-in-law swings by unannounced and says, “Don’t worry, I didn’t expect the house to be clean.” 

Or when your boss emails you at 10 p.m. with the subject line “Tiny favor.” 

We all have those moments that press our buttons and poke at our peace.

So the question is, what do we do with them?

How do we respond like the women we want to be—rooted, grounded, and anchored in Christ—when everything around us is crunchy-sock chaos?

We’ve rounded up 5 of our favorite mindset hacks for the next time you find yourself losing your cool over late shoes, loud opinions, or socks with an attitude.

#1: Start with the story you’re telling yourself

At the root of so many of our stress responses—whether it’s yelling in the car or crying in the kitchen—is a belief about ourselves. 

For me, it was, “If we’re late, I must not have it together; I’m failing.” So when my kids were dragging their feet (literally), it wasn’t just annoying—it was poking at something deeper.

Scripture tells us that if we want to be free from the grip of our emotions, we have to stop treating every feeling like it’s the final word. We need to name the lie and replace it with truth.

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32)

Pick out what that is for you. When you start to get upset or heated, pause and take a breath. Then consider, what belief is getting triggered? What message are you unintentionally living from?

Once you know, give yourself a new script. Find a new line to speak over yourself—something true.

Maybe it’s “I can be calm even when things don’t go as planned.” Or “Peace is possible, even if we’re ten minutes behind.” Or simply, “God is not asking me to be perfect. He’s asking me to be faithful.” So:

• Discover the thought behind the trigger
• Name it
• Anchor yourself in the truth
• Give yourself a new script

#2: Go to your people (the saints)…but be specific

Most of us have go-to people for different things in our lives. My sister-in-law gets all of my “Why is my sourdough doing that?” calls. My childhood best friend of 20+ years gets my “I just want to hang out and talk about nothing for two hours” calls. My mom gets my “I don’t know what’s happening, but SOMETHING is happening and I need to talk” calls. 

We lean on different people to support us in different ways—and we can (and should) do the same with the saints.

Heaven is not far off hope—it’s a present help. The Church Triumphant, the Communion of Saints, is active, listening, and interceding for us. They’ve been through real life—grief, parenting, persecution, loss, exhaustion, and temptation. And their job isn’t just to inspire us—it’s to help us.

So make your own league of superhero saints to call on. Here are some ideas:

• Call on St. Monica when your child is making questionable life choices (or just coloring on the walls again).
• St. Joseph when the burden of providing and protecting feels heavy.
• St. Zelie Martin when motherhood feels like an offering and a dumpster fire at the same time.
• St. Martha when the to-do list is relentless.
• St. Thérèse when you need help finding holiness in the 47 loads of laundry.
• St. John Paul II when you’re trying to be brave.
• St. Catherine of Siena when you need to speak the truth with love and fire.

You don’t have to carry this alone…Heaven comes with speedy help. 

#3: Use a pattern interrupt to stop your spiral.

Have you ever noticed that a small child having a tantrum will stop what they’re doing if you start sobbing, too? (Aisle A10 at our Walmart never saw it coming 😂.)

When you do something unexpected, instead of following the same script they’re used to, their brain has a record scratch moment. And that pause is enough time for you to change up how you handle the situation to avoid a full-scale meltdown. 

As adults, we spiral, too—just (usually) in more socially acceptable ways. We rehearse arguments in our heads, we catastrophize, and we fixate on everything going wrong. And the longer we stay in that loop, the harder it is to get out.

That’s where a pattern interrupt comes in. Try one of these next time your thoughts are racing or your mood is tanking:

• Do something absurd: Sing your grocery list in an opera voice. Clap your hands three times and say, “Okay, brain, we’re not doing that today.” (If it sounds silly right now, your brain is really going to be surprised when you actually do it.)
• Switch environments: Go outside. Lie on the floor. Run cold water over your hands or face. The body helps calm the mind.
• Use a “holy” interrupt: Say a short Scripture out loud. Cross yourself. Whisper the name of Jesus like a reset button. (“Jesus, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me.”)

You don’t have to follow your thoughts around every spiral. 

#4: Tell your inner narrator to sit down and chill out

We all have that voice in our heads. The one that narrates your entire day like a dramatic audiobook you didn’t ask for:

“Wow, they’re ignoring you again. Guess your parenting doesn’t matter.”
“This house is a disaster. You’ll never get on top of it.”
“Cool, now you’re crying over chicken nuggets. Really thriving here.”

Here’s the thing: just because it’s loud doesn’t mean it’s true. And just because it’s familiar doesn’t mean it’s welcome.

You don’t have to let that inner narrator/self-critic run the whole show. In fact, you can interrupt her mid-sentence. Try saying (out loud if you need to), “That’s not helpful.” Or: “We’re not doing that today.” Or even: “You can sit down now—I’m choosing peace.”

Then, remember tip #1 and replace the narration with something rooted in truth:

• “This moment is hard, but I’m not alone.”
• “I don’t need to be perfect to be a good mom.”
• “This isn’t forever. This is just a moment.”

You are the boss of what happens in your brain, and you know God asks us to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5)—not to just let our thoughts wander wherever they want and pull us into chaos. 

#5: Ask these two questions

Here’s a simple two-question practice that can instantly shift your perspective in the middle of any meltdown, mess, or moment of madness:

1: Will this matter in eternity?

2: And if not… how can I make it matter in eternity?

The answer to the first question is often “no.” The spilled Cheerios, the sibling squabble, the toddler undressing in public—none of that will make the history books.

But the second question? That’s where the holiness lives. Because how you respond can absolutely echo in eternity.

Can you offer it up? Can you stay gentle when it would be easier to snap? Can you speak truth with love instead of frustration?

That’s how you turn the ordinary into something eternal.

Colossians 3:2 says, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” 

Find the sacred hidden inside the socks and sticky counters and slow mornings.

So the next time your kid stares at their Crocs like they’ve never seen footwear in their life—or your toddler weeps over the emotional fragility of a sock—pause.

Breathe.

Remember that peace isn’t something you earn by being on time or getting everything right. Peace is a gift. A fruit of the Holy Spirit. A promise that’s available right in the middle of the mess.

The world will keep spinning. The laundry will keep piling up. The socks will continue to be crunchy and emotionally complex.

But you?

You can stay rooted.

You can tell yourself the truth, call on heaven for help, interrupt the spiral, quiet the inner chaos, and choose to see eternity right there in your ordinary Tuesday.

That’s the beauty of grace. It doesn’t wait for things to calm down before it shows up.

It meets you barefoot in the laundry room—and reminds you who you are.