i need tequila.

I believe most people would choose wine at the end of a day like today, but personally I'm more of a tequila drinker.  And if you want the truth I'm currently eating my feelings in the form of chocolate frozen yogurt with cashews, white chocolate chips and heart shaped sprinkles.  I probably would have picked a margarita if it wouldn't put me straight to sleep, I need to watch Private Practice.  Obviously.

Today started out not so bad.  Ryann actually slept until 6:20 (as opposed to 5:30).  We played a little, ate breakfast, watched an episode of Jake and the Neverland Pirates and got ready to go to the gym.  She fought me a bit on getting dressed, but that is nothing new.  We went to the gym, Ry freaked out because she wanted to go potty there, no big deal.  I worked out.  Picked up a seemingly happy camper and got back in the car.

And then we stopped at FedEx Office to have some paper cut.

Ryann would not listen to me for anything.  Wouldn't stand by me at all.  I was trying to figure out what cuts needed to be made, talk to the guy and control my child all at the same time.  I asked her to come stand by me again.  "NEVER."  So I picked her up and set her on the counter.  She threw her mini magnadoodle she was holding across the store.  I took it.  She cried.  I tried to calm her down with no luck.

At this point I probably should have just left.  But I had to get the paper cut and I didn't want to attempt another trip.  So I tried to get her to play games on my phone by my feet, which is usually my no fail go to when I need her to be quiet and still.  But she just sat there screaming and crying.  I tried to finish explaining to the man what I needed.  Eventually I got her to calm down. 

I have never been so embarrassed in public by her behavior.  And all the while I've got a million things going through my head.  It is my fault she acts like this.  I don't pay enough attention to her.  I don't discipline her correctly.  I don't speak to her properly.  Something I'm doing is just wrong.  Toddlers are tough.  They truly are.  And most likely not much would have changed the situation.  She didn't want to be there and she went about her own way of showing me.  But I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault, and that everyone in the store was judging my abilities as a parent.

On the way home we discussed how we need to listen, why her choices in the store were sad, etc. etc.  She didn't really seem to be taking it to heart, but she was listening.  All seemed well, we had some snack.  Then I told her I needed to change her diaper.  Obviously not something she wanted to do.  Another fit of course.  I let her do her thing, and eventually convinced her to let me change her.  But after I was done she wouldn't let me put her shorts back on.  "I want COMFY PANTS!"  Whatever, I wasn't in the mood for another fight (for the record, I can't find anything uncomfortable about the shorts I had her in).  I told her to pick a pair out of her drawer.

Wouldn't you know she picks a pair of long fleece pants.  I tried to explain that it was hot outside and fleece pants would not be comfortable at all.  She wasn't buying it.  So I settled, she could wear the pants but we weren't going to the park.  Apparently the pants were more important than the park because she merrily skipped to the family room to play with her toys.  Whatever.

We had lunch.  Fought some more about another diaper change.  Fought about the fact that she needed to take a nap.  Finally she was in her crib.

After nap she told me she wanted to play outside.  I said fine as long as she wore shorts.  She agreed.  The next couple of hours were spent playing with chalk and wandering the front yard.  She was a happy camper.  Happily ate her dinner.  She requested to go back outside until bathtime.  We agreed.  But of course when it was time to come in she had a meltdown.  And from there the night pretty much tanked.

We got her in the bath and that was all fine and dandy, but after bath the stalling began.  Read just one more book.  I need to potty.  I need to poop.  I want daddy.  Sing me a song.  Finally I decided enough was enough.  I had completed everything in our routine.  I told her it was time to go to sleep, pried her arms from around my neck, and she wailed.  I gave my sobbing girl one last kiss and closed the door.

I haven't had to listen to her cry like that since we sleep trained her.  It didn't last long, but it was just as horrible, if not more.  Listening to her scream for me was heart wrenching, but I know every time I give in she will just drag it on a little longer.  I'm at a loss.

I've said it time and time again, the good moments with her?  Are SO GOOD.  Ryann can be so incredibly sweet and funny.  But for as much as the fun times are happy and great, the tough moments are equally terrible and hard.  Getting through the next couple of years (or several you know, because hopefully we'll have another, and maybe another and then one of them will turn into a teenager and ohmygawd...) is going to be challenging.

Thankfully her sweet smile can make up for some of the more difficult moments...