With white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, frazzled nerves and a pounding headache that wouldn鈥檛 stop, I tried my hardest to tune out the pint-sized peanut gallery in the backseat.

But even with the music cranked to max, there was no muting the chaos or the bumper-to-bumper traffic that seemed to go on for miles.

鈥淚 want that doll, give her back right now!鈥� wailed Zoe, my two-and-a-half-year-old feisty pre-schooler, who decided to take justice into her own hands and snatch it right back.

鈥淗ey, she took my baby 鈥� mom 鈥� you give that to me now,鈥� demanded her distraught older sister, Molly, four-and-a half, from the opposite car seat.

Even though it was the dead of winter, little beads of sweat began to trickle down my forehead 鈥� I was a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any second.

In the front passenger side, my own mother, 鈥楴ana,鈥� remained cool as a cucumber. If she was aggravated, she sure as heck wasn鈥檛 showing it. I on the other hand, was having a tough time swallowing a big, fat proverbial chill pill.

Deep breathing technique 鈥� check. Bite my lip so hard I can taste blood 鈥� check. Politely ask them to simmer down 鈥� check (ish).

鈥淕et me out of here now,鈥� screamed Zoe, her cherubic cheeks reddening a deep crimson hue to match her unruly locks.

鈥淚 want out. I want a cookie. I鈥檓 thirsty... I ... I pooped!鈥�

Astute olfactory senses told me she wasn鈥檛 kidding. And it turned out I wasn鈥檛 the only one who smelled trouble.

鈥樷�橢ww that stinks, I鈥檓 going to puke up 鈥� l want that doll,鈥� hollerd Molly.

Then it happened.

Despite all attempts to keep my 鈥榞ood mommy鈥� title, there was no stopping the two little words from escaping my lips.

鈥淪huuuut up!鈥� I yelled.  The words flew effortlessly out of my mouth, taking even me by surprise. For two seconds I felt pretty darn good, as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. However, the feeling of relief was quickly trumped by massive guilt over my 鈥楳ommy Dearest鈥� moment.

Was that me? Had I just told my sweet little darling angels to shut up?

Yup, that just happened.

Judging by my children鈥檚 reaction, you would never have known about my out-of-character outburst. Both girls continued on whining, fighting and complaining 鈥�  both unfazed by what had just transpired in our cramped, compact car.

But not my own mother 鈥� oh no. She heard it loud and clear, which was evident from the little smirk that began to turn up the corners of her mouth.

Within seconds her teeny-tiny smile turned into a big fat grin, followed by a gut-busting laugh that had her doubled over, trying to catch her breath.

鈥淲hat are you laughing at? It鈥檚 not funny,鈥� I objected to my mom鈥檚 amusement over my parenting faux pas.

鈥淥h, it is, Kristyl.

鈥淚 can remember the exact moment I lost it on you and your brother,鈥� she said, gathering her composure. 鈥淚t鈥檚 payback time!鈥�

During a trip to the playground a few days later, a couple of moms reluctantly admitted that they, too, have lost their cool, said things they wish they could take back, acted just like they said they never would prior to starting a family of their own.

Let鈥檚 face it, social media sites like Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter tend to bring out the 鈥楽tepford Wives鈥� in most of us  鈥� myself included.

I鈥檓 just as guilty as the majority of moms out there who give the impression that they are the 鈥榩erfect parent.鈥� Well, I guess the cat鈥檚 now out of the bag.

Go ahead 鈥� judge away, I deserve it.

While I can only imagine that the stress of parenthood will escalate over the years 鈥� after all, I am realist and the mother of two fiercely independent daughters 鈥� I have been working much harder to stay calm, cool and collected.

Through trial, plenty of error and a glass or two of chardonnay, I鈥檝e begun to realize parenthood is all about survival of the chillest.

Yes, I still lose my temper from time to time, feel like I鈥檓 the world鈥檚 worst mom when it happens and do find the odd venomous word teasing the tip of my tongue 鈥� daring me to spit it out at times of frustration.

But you know what I do when that happens?

I take a deep breath, bite my lip and shut up. And if all else fails, I send them to Nana鈥檚 house.

Kristyl Clark is a stay-at-home-mom who writes monthly for the 91原创 Times and is the founder of the family blogazine, .