Three is the age of extreme emotion. One minute I've got a sweet-as-pie charming little girl who can squeeze not one cookie, but two out of me with a smile and big bear hug. Minutes later, she spits in my face .
Several months into the carnival of horrors that is my son's threenage wasteland, I'm done taking the blame for his crappy behavior.
He doesn't always get his way, but I've learned to pick my battles. I don't spoil him, I don't give into his every whim and desire, I don't let him play in the street or swim without floaties just because he says he's a "big boy." But, I pick my battles. If you have a difficult toddler, then it is best to pick your battles, too.