Change of plans

I had intended to come and tell a great story about my day... but instead, I need to vent. My daughter is 3 years and 8 months old. Some days, she is fantastic. A joy and delight. I want nothing more than to spend every moment of my time with her- cuddling, laughing, playing, talking. I love chancing her down the sidewalk as she rides her tricycle. I love cooking with her. I love her sense of humor. And then there are moments like right now. A reportedly good day at daycare. A fine evening at home. Ate dinner, watched TV, played with some blocks. And then it was bedtime. She'd been "warned." 5 minutes until we put on pajamas... I am back in the bedroom, nursing Zach. I hear the screeching meltdown. *sigh* Here we go. Again. Offer to swap. Jeff wants to handle the pajamas. Zach is desperate to get off my bed and keeps saying "dada." He knows that things aren't right with his dad, his sister. We end up swapping after the pajamas get put on. She is in full on screeching, crying, screaming meltdown. I haven't seen this since... well, Saturday. She gets so worked up that she is incoherent, inconsolible. Bargaining for the other parent, crying the heartbroken cry. Raging and sobbing. I'm not proud of my own choices. I yelled. I threatened. I feel like I snapped. When she has this out of control meltdown, I lose it. It isn't a rage or even an overwhelming anger. Just a wave of frustration like I've never known before. I expect her to make good choices. I am trying to teach her to control herself. And I can't do the same. I can logically. I can talk it. Why can't I make myself do it? What is it about that screeching, out of control meltdown that gets under my skin like that? Logically, I know all the right answers. It's the practicality of making it happen that is proving to be my biggest challenge.