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When Everything Feels Like Too Much She cried while I brushed her teeth. She cried while I asked her to go potty. She cried while I put on her socks. She cried. Despite my throbbing headache and sore throat, I had tried the strategies in my parenting toolbox to get us out the door peacefully: giving choices, collaborative problem-solving, gentle communication…nada. None of it worked. It took a long hug (during which we both cried) and finding her “bear” to

“Only 2 hours 50 minutes,” I told myself, closing my eyes and letting out a deep sigh. “Only 2 hours 50 minutes until I can hand her over to Chris.” I opened my eyes and looked down at my red-faced, teary-eyed daughter having a meltdown in the bakery aisle because she wanted the pink doughnut with white stripes — not the wholegrain bread roll I was willing to buy. This was our — I don’t know, maybe eighth? — tantrum