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  When my children were very small I had this nasty habit of withdrawing into myself when things really got tough. I was convinced I was alone in my struggles –  my inner voice telling me just what a terrible mom I was (a.k.a. my “inner ‘You Stink’ voice.” I am alone when my almost-four-year-old is wetting his pants. On purpose. I am alone as I daily carry a screaming child across the preschool parking lot in front of hundreds of other calm, well-behaved and quiet children and their parents. I am alone when my kids are prancing around the …