Today’s Monday, or Tuesday, depending on how you count it. Yesterday I stayed home and did work remotely (which ended up being me writing some more stuff, although I’m pretty sure some of it was fragmentary in nature and incomplete; if you get stuck on a section, mark it and come back later, right? As long as the framework is there it should hang together and make sense. Between childcare and having to drop off a car for repair it was a fairly busy day of driving, though not anything that was impossible. At the end of the day what you do isn’t as important as what you’re imparting, and I’m not sure I’ve done right.
We had the typical bedtime moans and reluctance and so you do what you can but often it’s too much. I made her bed – twice – and instead of telling me how it should be done she dumped the covers on the floor so I in a huff ran off and left her there to do it by herself. I mean, come on, what are you supposed to do? How about reacting with patience and forbearance? It’s not like everything I’ve ever done has been filled with happiness and sunshine, after all: remember when? Once I was mad at my brother so rather than talk to my dad, who had called the house, I silently hung up the phone instead; not ten minutes later he had walked back and let me know exactly what was rude about that.
I suppose I get my temper from who I am and not getting my way, but there’s no reason to pass it on down, is there? Though anger has been a powerful motivator for me in the past I can’t help but think there must be some better way to handle it. There is, I’m sure. It’s the sustained slow burns that you can’t help but use once in a while; if it came right down to it then you’d find a better way, wouldn’t you? Well, if it feels toxic afterwards then I’m sure it doesn’t help during the event either, does it? Once we’re done here we need to talk, won’t we?