Patience: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering, without getting angry or upset.

Sheesh. I think if you look up toddler in the dictionary, it might have the words delay and trouble in the description as well. Prior to having kids, I was completely unaware of the amount of patience it takes to be a parent. When you think of having a baby, you just think of bringing home an 8lb bundle-of-love. You don't think of carrying a two-year-old out of a store kicking and screaming. Thank goodness.

Recently, I needed to run in AutoZone for some windshield wipers. Let me preface by saying, I make every attempt to do all errands prior to picking up my son from preschool during the week, so as to avoid the following scenario. I guess I was feeling brave. Stupid, but brave.

So my loving 2-year-old and I stroll in.

"Okay, walk with Momma. Let’s go to the counter and be really still while I talk to this man."

My child lets go of my hand, ignoring me, and finds a display of paper towels nearby. He takes two off the shelf and is as happy as a clam.

I try to speak to the cashier, while stopping every few words to shush my child who is chirping, "Mom! Mom! MOM! MOM! MOMMMMM! Towels! See towels?!” I apologize to the cashier, who is looking at me with pity, and mild annoyance.

I'm always apologizing. “Somebody needs a nap, sorry!…It’s been a long day, sorry!…My child is hungry, sorry!" Actually, I think I am the one who is hungry and desperately needs a nap.

In the sixty seconds that I’ve been at the counter, my child has removed five bottles of glass cleaner, lined them up in a row, and is lying on the floor saying, "choo choo!" to his new creation.

"Ok bud, put that up. It's time to go!"

"Time to go" is like pushing their panic button, apparently. All the toddler body parts go limp, and he refuses to walk.

"NO!" He screams at the top of his lungs. Paper towels go flying, and my child is back to lying on the floor. The few people in the store are looking at me, eyebrows raised, with the “Get control of your kid" look. I know it, because I used to give it to parents, before I knew that toddlers cannot be tamed, at least not all the time.

Once your kid is on the floor wailing, you have limited options. Now is not the time for the, "Calm down please and we will discuss this,” shenanigans. That's for your living room, not AutoZone. It's time to get out of whatever public place you are in and try not to look like someone who warrants a call from social services.

I would hate to have seen the look on my face. I wish I was more patient. I wish I didn't have this look of stifled fury, but when my child is so publicly defiant, I'm often pushed to a state of exasperation. A feeling that I’m losing control of my child, and the situation. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I sound as if a balloon is deflating—as if I’m exhaling the emotions out of my lungs. My response to these situations is usually dependent on the day's running total of "toddler badness.” I am always much more forgiving of such outbursts when they occur early on, and have not compounded over a day or weekend.

I know that my child is only two, and literally cannot contain his energy. He isn't made to sit still, or be quiet, or not make choo-choos from Windex bottles. At this age, he isn't supposed to wait for a break in the conversation to speak. And my child, if in his playroom, or a park, or his class, is truly an angel and a joy. It's when you take children and put them in the middle of mundane adult tasks, that chaos ensues. Trying to grocery shop, go to the post office, eat in public, or unload the dishwasher is just asking for trouble. I know all these things, yet I still find myself frustrated daily. I also know that those frustrations are just part of being human. Thankfully, our successes as parents must greatly outweigh our failures, because these kiddos love us. We mess up one minute, and we are heroes the next. For that, I am so grateful. I shall embrace my untamed toddler, and I will pray for patience and grace daily. Deep breath in, deep breath out.