3 is hard. Really hard.

Just when I think we've conquered tantrums they return... And only when I'm alone, in public and usually in a hurry. Ugh.

And I really try to remind myself of the sweet girl that she is - when she tells me she loves me and misses me even when I've been home all day, when she tells me she forgives me and I haven't done anything to warrant forgiveness. Did I do something mean and not notice? And how she said to me the other day... "Mommy, we have a problem. You forgot my underwear." Woops!

When she has tantrums I also try to remember the funny things she says that remind me that she is only 3. Like her calling the freeway the "doofway" (or as Knut prefers to interpret it, the "doucheway").

I love her to bits, but man alive, some days are hard.