My 16-month old daughter is the pinnacle of full self-expression.

This morning, she asked for a variety of items, and upon being presented with each, responded, giggling, “No!”

She responded with giggles, that is, until she didn’t, at which point, she began crying and thrashing about with unreserved and unabashed sadness and fury, as only a toddler can.

She kept crying and thrashing until I responded in the way she deemed correct, at which time, she calmed down, and began asking for more things.

Repeat cycle ad infinitum.

I love my little one with all my heart, but this morning, as I sent her off to daycare, I was demoralized.

I am so good at so many things, yet I am reduced to a jester throwing out all my best tricks to amuse and care for this tiny little being.

And sometimes, she still ends up with crazy hair, dirty hands and fits of frustration.

I came face-to-face with “not good enough,” and once that portal gets opened in one area of my life (today, mothering my youngest), it becomes a flood of barely held back self-conflagration about the other areas in which I don’t measure up.

I wish I could say that I bounced back right away, through reflection.  And, I guess I could, as I like to tie things up nicely and end on the positive.

But, the fact is that mornings like these are hard.  Today is hard.