The kids and I are on vacation this week, and I’m trying to use it as an opportunity to practice patience, both with myself and with them.
I had to work late on Friday, and when I came home, I did about three hours of prep for the trip, including reading and responding to a bunch of outstanding work email, so I wouldn’t feel like I had to do it while on vacation. And after that, I still had about two more hours of prep to do—but I decided to quit while I was ahead, and just enjoy what was left of the evening.
On Saturday, I got up early, but didn’t push myself to get out the door in a hurry. When I got to landisdad’s, the kids weren’t really ready yet—but instead of getting upset, or even really nagging them, I tried to relax and let them get packed on their own pace. Did it take longer than it would’ve if I had nagged them? Maybe. Did we get on the road later than I had initially wanted to? Definitely. Was the 8-hour drive less stressful, because I didn’t inject stress into the beginning of the journey? I have no doubt.
The kids were great for the whole ride, and the only part of the journey that was at all difficult was when we were nearly here, and stopped for ice cream. There was a cute boy serving us, and the Bee got quite annoyed with me for existing. After all, who wants to be seen with your mother when there’s a cute boy around, even if he’s a boy you will probably never see again, and is at least three years older than you?
But I soldiered on, and just ate my ice cream in peace…
They’re tough, sometimes, the sacrifices you have to make as a parent.