Patience and the Not-So-Virtuous

I am not sure I would have phrased it this way, but before I had children, I thought I would become someone else once they were born. That someone would suddenly have buckets of extra patience, would never swear and would never need time away from her precious kidlets.

This did not happen.

I've cut back on the curse words. Really, I have. I even say quaint things like, "My goodness" and "Oh, no." But the patience is a challenge. Parenting is a lot of repetition, and it is easy to forget that for the boys, this is all new. Washing hands and putting on boots and waiting for Mommy to make lunch--these are learned skills. Some days, I find it energizing to putter through the day and get all the munchkin needs met, one by one. Other days, I long for a little more patience as I keep reminding Adam that we rinse off the soap, we don't lick it off or wipe it on a truck.

I certainly have more patience than I did BB (before boys). Otherwise, none of us would survive any given morning. But more often than I care to admit, I raise my voice or get cranky or even use sarcasm, which A) I said I never would do to my kids and B) they are too little to understand.

I keep trying. I don't want to rush the boys through childhood on a wave of my impatience.