Every way she changes, she adds a new and more hellish challenge.

I don't think I'm the best mother for my daughter.

I remember once driving to Gymboree when Maddie was 9 months old. Back then Madison had a particular issue with the Germans. Not Germans in general, just the Germans who designed the 1998 VW Jetta GT. The TDI I'm sure would have been fine.

Since babies can't talk Madison let her disdain for German automobiles clear by shrieking at the top of her lungs for the entire 5 mile drive to Gymboree. Every week for the 6 months I tried to make a go of Gymboree, she screamed the entire way. I prayed during those drives I would get pulled over for drunk driving, not because I was driving drunk, just so I could say to the police man, "Please.....please save me from my daughter."

I mostly left my body during those drives, actually all the drives I took with Madison for the first 18 months of her life. Before I realized if I threw a steady stream of pretzel rods back at her she'd stuff her gob full and stop crying. I'd mostly leave my body but sometimes I would end up driving screaming at the top of my lungs, "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS! I CAN'T BE YOUR MOTHER."

I remember one day we had to go to the orthopedic surgeon for Maddie's weekly recastings. I tried to put her in the car seat and to Madison the car seat looked like this. She screamed and screamed and I fought to strap her into her seat, the newborn carrier, got her in and walked into the bedroom and started screaming into my pillow....."I CAN'T DO THIS! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE YOUR MOTHER."

I like to think those days are past us. That I've proven to myself that I can do this and I do know how to be her mother.

This summer has been challenging with Madison in some new ways and in other ways which are remarkably similar to the frustration I had 8.5 years ago when she hated our choice in automobile.

There are still some days where my frustration with her makes me grit my teeth and scream into a pillow, "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE YOUR MOTHER."

Because the truth is I don't really know how to be her mother