My youngest (now coming up on 2 years) was getting ready for bed. It was time to brush her teeth. Normally, she holds her toothbrush and I put her toothpaste on for her. This time, she asked for the tube.
I hesitated, knowing she likes to eat toothpaste. I wondered why she wanted it, so I gave it to her to find out.
Very carefully, she squeezed the tube with all her toddler might, applied the tiniest bit of toothpaste to the tip of her toothbrush.
I felt a surge of excitement: she did it all by herself.
Seconds later, instead of reveling in triumph (or brushing her teeth), she spiraled into a tantrum. She squealed with upset, frustrated that it hadn’t gone in whatever way she had been hoping for.
In that moment, I saw a little piece of myself–disatisfied with life, ignoring the little victories, unable to see the true objective.