I’m 30. I’m at the age where I realize I’m turning into my mother (or have always been her and not realized it). But that’s another blog. What I didn’t expect is that my son would be so much like me. He’s three, but he’s just as stubborn and bossy as I always have been.

The bad thing is, we’re both quick to anger. If he doesn’t get his way, he either starts whining or talking back. Which gets me mad. We end up in a shouting match that I’m not proud of.

He’s like me in a lot of good ways, too. He hates sports, to my husband’s chagrin, and is artistic. He’s cuddly.

But when the devil gets in him, it’s all I can do to not throw him out a window. They say whatever gets on your nerves about someone is something you do yourself. I’m fain to admit it, but it’s true. When he yells to me from another room, I scold him…from another room.

The main problem is my guilt. I get so uptight and either want to yell at him (or worse) or DO yell. I know I’m probably not scarring him for life, but I just wonder why raising a toddler is so hard for me. It’s an awful feeling to feel alone in this, though I’m determined to believe I’m not alone in feeling this way…