Buyer's remorse, toddler style

So it was a bit of a boring morning around here, I decided we'd make a quick trip over to Dollar Tree.  I had a few things I was needing and where better to get them than the dollar store?

On the drive over I made it clear to Emma she could pick out one toy, and one toy only.  I felt pretty confident she got the message, even walking into the store she was telling me how she could only get one toy.

So we make our way over to the toy isle.  First on the docket?  A bag of assorted balloons.  Ok, we've got some of those at home already, but if that's what she wants...  Then came the blue mermaid with curly hair.  She did as she was told, put the balloons back and got her mermaid.   We had a few other bait and switch maneuvers, but we she finally settled on a dinosaur hat that had a great big nose that stuck out a good foot from her head.  She went around the store roaring and giving everyone a good laugh.  She was pretty cute...

As we were walking out I contently thought about our successful excursion.  My mommy pride was bubbling over at her good behavior, while my big picture thinking was comparing it to her first lesson on living within your means.

But no sooner than when I pulled out of the parking lot, she casts the hat aside and starts asking about those balloons.  Ah crap.  I tried to remind her of the one toy rule, but she was in no mood for a lesson on minimalism.  The further we got from the store, the worse her tantrum became.  Including pulling off her flip flops and pitching each one of them at my head.  To that I had to laugh.  Damn she's got good aim, Daddy's taught her well.

So I just kept driving, all the while a screaming child was in my rear view mirror.  I kept hoping the "just ignore her" trick would eventually wear her down.  It never does, don't kid yourself.  In fact, at one point she yells at me, "Mommy, stop doing that!"

So whilest listening to screams and pleads for balloons, I start thinking about this stay-at-home momming gig.  Her two days per week daycare teachers act like she's the perfect kid, never cries, well mannered, always shares. (Who is this child and what did they do with my temperamental Emma?)

If she's so great at school, why don't I just go back to work full time?  Oh the money we could be raking in with my education/experience.  Plus I wouldn't have to deal with size 6 shoes flung at my head.

I remember reading an article that said kids will usually save their worst behaviors for their parents and be sweet angels for teachers/babysitters/etc.  The reason being, they "love" us enough to show us their worst side.  I get this, Lord knows my loved ones have the seen the best and worst of me.  But still, I'm a little peeved that Emma is dumping her bad behavior on me.  But who's to say I don't do the same to her?  After we get home and she's still inconsolable, my patience wanes and I have a bit of a tantrum of my own.  Stellar parenting, for sure.

 But as we finally start to calm down we have a tender moment of exchanging I love you's, hers coming between those lip-quivering sighs that follow a good cry.  (Mush goes my heart!)

Then it dawns on me, it doesn't matter what my job status is, every mom has to deal with situations like the one I just described.  There's no escaping them.  It's apart of raising a child.  But what do we get in return?  Heart melting I love you's between quivering sobs, singing her favorite song and reading her special book before naptime, tender moments that she only saves for us, her parents.

So the moral of this story?  Our children teach us way more lessons than we ever teach them.