When my oldest daughter was a toddler, I still had loads to learn about how to be a mom. One thing I found particularly vexing was how to get through a trip to the grocery store without tears. And if I could keep my daughter from crying, too, well all the better.

I seemed constitutionally unable to move from point A (the parking lot) to point B (back to the parking lot, groceries in hand) without a lot of irritation. The irritation usually sprang from my daughter wanting to do one of two things: push one of those child-size carts through the store – meaning she would repeatedly steer it straight into my ankles – or touch everything on the shelves, especially the toys and trinkets that grocery stores now feel compelled to carry.

I thought I had found a clever solution one day when I allowed my daughter to hold a desired stuffed animal while she sat in the cart. Lacking the foresight to plan how I'd retrieve it from her, I happily shopped while my daughter was occupied with her treasure. She played, sang and was undeniably adorable with it. Then it was time to head to the checkout stand. I told her we had to put the stuffed animal back, and the beginnings of a tantrum ensued.

Why I had not thought of how this scene would conclude I can't tell you. I was young. I was new. And I still believed, insanely, that I could simply tell a 2-year-old what I wanted and she would comply.

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