“Mommy, come see,” said my three-year-old boy. “It’s a dis-AS-ter in my room.”

I knew by the way he had said disaster that I wasn’t going to be pleased, but I let him lead me by the hand to the scene of the crime.

He had been doing a time out in his room for calling me a “pest,” his favorite epithet, which he gleaned from Rabbit in Winnie the Pooh.

“See, Mom, I colored on the floor.”

I see.

“And the walls.”

It was yellow washable marker. I wasn’t too worried about the long-term effects of his hooliganism. Not on the house, anyway. I was more concerned about the big smile on his face as he showed me his handiwork.

The whole day had been like this...one “naughty” incident after another. I wanted to trade him on a new toenail clipper, figuring that would be a good trade. Instead, I sat him down on the bed and asked him why he had done it.

“I like to,” he said.

I took away the markers, explaining that they would be high on the shelf for a few days. I got him a cloth and some cleaner and had him clean the mess himself. I thanked god it was almost the end of the day.

I won’t go into the full litany of naughtinesses...if you have a toddler, chances are nearly 100 percent that you have had days like my son and I did yesterday. Some days, it’s as if they wake up wanting to test. And so they do. What happens if I push here? What if I push it again? And again? And again?

How you choose to discipline is up to you—there are many experts out there who might help you generate a system of consequences and rewards. And that’s important. But what I’m more focusing on here is helping you and your toddler build some bridges back to each other so that you can go to sleep without stewing and be grateful to see in the morning that you still have a toddler and not a new toenail clipper.

Here are five things I do to help repair some of the emotional damage.

1) Change the Scenery
Go outside together and look at the moon. This has been a popular one for us since before my son could talk. When he would cry at night, I would sometimes take him outside and point to the moon, be it thumbnail or orb. For him, I think it provided a beautiful distraction—plus there was the shock of the cold, the literal change of atmosphere, that helped to divert his negativity. I benefited similarly, but the moon also gives a wonderful perspective. We’re just so small. There’s so much out there besides a two-bedroom house and a tricky child.

2) Tell a Story
The most magic words in my house are “Once Upon a Time.” I can stop a full blown kicking and wailing tantrum in just four words. The stories are often featuring my son as the hero, and the hero is often in the same trouble as my son. There are numerous benefits to playing it out in pretend. One, you can insert a pretty good moral to your story, one that helps your child see things your way. Two, by telling the story with your child as the hero, you get to effectively put yourself in his or her shoes. This can be a biggee when it comes to compassion and understanding just why the child is acting out the way that he or she is.

3) Switch Roles
Have the child tell you a story about what happened. Sometimes, they’re game for this, sometimes not. But I have learned a lot about my tone of voice and when I forget to say please by hearing my son repeat his version of our discord. This practice not only empowers the child to be creative, it also helps them to see your point of view. It provides a way for you both to talk about things that need to be worked on without you always being the one to bring it up.

4) Make a Kindness List
As you put your child to bed, list together the things that you did together that day that made other people happy. Last night, Finn and I recalled how we’d bought flowers for my parents to welcome them home. We’d baked oatmeal cookies for the people who work with us at our orchard. We left a nice note on the dashboard of a friend when we saw her car parked near a pond. We opened a door for an old woman going into the hair cutters. I like the act of putting us both on the same team—making us partners in generosity—but you might also want to list nice things that you did for each other that day. If your child isn’t participating in the list making, don’t worry. Somewhere down in there they’re listening.

5) Vent
Honor the frustration. It doesn’t change our inner worth to admit that the day, well, sucked. Last night I wrote an email to another mother after my son went to bed. “I am tired of being a woman,” I said, and gave a short outline of the day. She wrote back, “Then be a girl. Not a woman. It is tiresome to be a mom. Give up more. Sleep more. Yell even.” I didn’t yell. I didn’t get much sleep, either. But I did feel as if she had heard me, acknowledged me, and loved me including, not despite, my own flaws. Some days are hard. Let them be hard. Now go to bed. Wake up. Start over again.