The house is a mess. I am struggling with Delia over her violin lessons. She wants to quit. I'm torn: if I let her quit, what lesson am I teaching her--that it's ok to walk away from something just because it's difficult? Or would letting her quit be treating her feelings with respect, not trying to force her to do something she just doesn't want to do? Which is right? How the hell do I know? Maybe she could try again later, or with another instrument?
Why can't the answer be obvious? So much of parenting is just blundering along in a totally clueless fashion, hoping that if at least your intentions are pure, you won't screw up your kid too much.
I have told her I'm going to talk with her dad and her teacher, and we'll decide by mid next week. I suspect we're going to let her quit, with the proviso that she must choose another instrument in another couple of years. Maybe she'll be more patient when she's a little older.
Yeah, maybe. And maybe I'm kidding myself.
Patience. *Sigh.* I blew up several times today, and so am in a mood of total self-loathing. I dropped the stylus for my PDA in the kitchen trash by mistake, because I was checking my calendar on it against the wall calendar (which hangs right over the trash can). I emptied, by hand, that whole stinking mess--banana peels, egg shells, turkey bones and gravy, spilled Bisquick--trying to find that damn stylus. I covered my hands with garbage, cursing and cursing, getting more and more furious. I couldn't find the damn thing. "Forget about it," Rob said. "You can buy a new one at the store for $3.00."
I went out and walked around the block, trying to calm down.
I came back in and tried to scroll through my PDA without the stylus. Without the stylus, it wouldn't work. I blew up again. This time I went out and drove to the lake and I had to sit there for a half hour before I could calm down.
What was wrong with me? I have no idea. I have absolutely no idea why I let such a stupid thing get to me. I have struggled with my rotten temper all of my life. I just had no self control tonight, and I behaved so dreadfully that I can't blame Rob for fleeing up the stairs with his hands over his ears, but seeing him do so made me even angrier!
I remember that St. Paul talked about the annoyance of having a thorn in his flesh, and how he prayed to God to take it away, and God did not. I always wondered whether Paul was talking about having a bad temper. I was pulling my car into the garage after coming back from the lake, and I looked up and groaned, "Why did you make me this way?"
Graarrhhhh.
Peg, who needs to go to bed and pull the covers over her head to shut out the world.
Why can't the answer be obvious? So much of parenting is just blundering along in a totally clueless fashion, hoping that if at least your intentions are pure, you won't screw up your kid too much.
I have told her I'm going to talk with her dad and her teacher, and we'll decide by mid next week. I suspect we're going to let her quit, with the proviso that she must choose another instrument in another couple of years. Maybe she'll be more patient when she's a little older.
Yeah, maybe. And maybe I'm kidding myself.
Patience. *Sigh.* I blew up several times today, and so am in a mood of total self-loathing. I dropped the stylus for my PDA in the kitchen trash by mistake, because I was checking my calendar on it against the wall calendar (which hangs right over the trash can). I emptied, by hand, that whole stinking mess--banana peels, egg shells, turkey bones and gravy, spilled Bisquick--trying to find that damn stylus. I covered my hands with garbage, cursing and cursing, getting more and more furious. I couldn't find the damn thing. "Forget about it," Rob said. "You can buy a new one at the store for $3.00."
I went out and walked around the block, trying to calm down.
I came back in and tried to scroll through my PDA without the stylus. Without the stylus, it wouldn't work. I blew up again. This time I went out and drove to the lake and I had to sit there for a half hour before I could calm down.
What was wrong with me? I have no idea. I have absolutely no idea why I let such a stupid thing get to me. I have struggled with my rotten temper all of my life. I just had no self control tonight, and I behaved so dreadfully that I can't blame Rob for fleeing up the stairs with his hands over his ears, but seeing him do so made me even angrier!
I remember that St. Paul talked about the annoyance of having a thorn in his flesh, and how he prayed to God to take it away, and God did not. I always wondered whether Paul was talking about having a bad temper. I was pulling my car into the garage after coming back from the lake, and I looked up and groaned, "Why did you make me this way?"
Graarrhhhh.
Peg, who needs to go to bed and pull the covers over her head to shut out the world.