If there's one thing I've learned from having a kid, it's how to fail. Not in some dramatic way. I'm certainly not perfect, but I don't think I'm a total failure as a mother or anything. I've just learned how to fail at the little things. Every day.
We have a pretty regular failure routine. I think of something that Eliza could do that would be convenient for me. I try to get her to do it. She refuses. I try again. She refuses again. This happens at least one hundred times.
What keeps me going, you ask? Two things: My sheer determination--as an only child--to get my way, and the rare occasions where Eliza, after hundreds of tries, has finally done the thing I want her to do.
For example: Eliza's pretty picky about her sleeping habits. I believe she may have inherited this from her mother, who cannot sleep or nap without perfect sleeping conditions. Despite this, I continue to try to get her to take a nap in the stroller while we're out. It worked once. Therefore, I cannot stop trying.
On the flip side, Eliza is now down to one three hour nap every day. If she happens to fall asleep, say, in the car before we make it home to put her down in her crib, we know we can kiss nap time goodbye. Regardless of this, I can't help but try to sneak her into the house and get her into bed where she will ideally take her regular 3 hour nap. This has never ever worked. Not even once, no matter how tired she is.
My husband is a little more willing to give up, but like any good husband he continues to support my frivolous efforts. Someday I will prevail. Until then, I'll just keep failing.