Why can't everything go my way?
I feel like I spend a lot of time trying to get my children to understand that not everything can go their way, particularly Sir Toddler. He's only allowed to watch TV during a designated time of day (while I'm making dinner and not every day), not just any time he asks. He can't have any special desserts in the house without finishing his dinner. He has to clean up one messy toy before he's allowed to take out another. All very little things. And yet, it's equally little stuff that helps bring out my inner whine.
Why couldn't there have been a parking spot in the lot at rehearsal?
Why can't the baby nap when her brother naps? Why won't she stop crying?
Why are the stroller tires flat for my run?
Why did it start raining the second we headed for the playground?
All very little things. I like to make plans and lists and systems and have everything go according to them. But, honestly, it's pretty shortsighted to think that my plans and my desires should be the measure by which the world should run. I'm one person, and a pretty flawed, young, and inexperienced one at that. I'm not the only one who makes plans, and mine aren't the best.
Sometimes I get lucky enough to find a parking spot less than a block away from rehearsal with the meter already paid.
Sometimes the muffed simultaneous lap allows me to enjoy one-on-one time with each child.
Sometimes the flat stroller tire brings my attention to the messy, sticky chocolate all over the stroller before I toss it into the trunk and spread the mess.
Sometimes the rain on the way to the playground encourages me to expand our play horizons to making art inside.
And sometimes, I'm simply being taught the lesson that I still can't have everything I want when I want it.
I feel like I spend a lot of time trying to get my children to understand that not everything can go their way, particularly Sir Toddler. He's only allowed to watch TV during a designated time of day (while I'm making dinner and not every day), not just any time he asks. He can't have any special desserts in the house without finishing his dinner. He has to clean up one messy toy before he's allowed to take out another. All very little things. And yet, it's equally little stuff that helps bring out my inner whine.
Why couldn't there have been a parking spot in the lot at rehearsal?
Why can't the baby nap when her brother naps? Why won't she stop crying?
Why are the stroller tires flat for my run?
Why did it start raining the second we headed for the playground?
All very little things. I like to make plans and lists and systems and have everything go according to them. But, honestly, it's pretty shortsighted to think that my plans and my desires should be the measure by which the world should run. I'm one person, and a pretty flawed, young, and inexperienced one at that. I'm not the only one who makes plans, and mine aren't the best.
Sometimes I get lucky enough to find a parking spot less than a block away from rehearsal with the meter already paid.
Sometimes the muffed simultaneous lap allows me to enjoy one-on-one time with each child.
Sometimes the flat stroller tire brings my attention to the messy, sticky chocolate all over the stroller before I toss it into the trunk and spread the mess.
Sometimes the rain on the way to the playground encourages me to expand our play horizons to making art inside.
And sometimes, I'm simply being taught the lesson that I still can't have everything I want when I want it.
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