Do you remember that little incident this morning, when I accidentally published a post instead of saving my unfinished work for later, like a good blogger should? I do. Anyway, I couldn't figure out how to unpublish my post, only how to delete the entire thing, so I deleted my post only after copying my text and pasting it into another document. Or so I thought.
I guess that post was never meant to be. I was rambling on about impatience or something, probably annoying even myself, so maybe it's for the best. On to bigger and better things, I say, like how I just made three attempts to leave the house with the girls so that I could workout, and instead I'm still at home. With a certain three-year-old enjoying some alone time in her room. I realized just now that sometimes my impatience sometimes steps from old-fashioned selfishness. Like I really wanted to go to the gym and workout but instead I have to stay at home and follow through with teaching Alyce that she can't have a complete meltdown each and every time it's time to put on your shoes.
Can you imagine what the world be like if we all had breakdowns every time we had to put on our shoes? I love putting on my shoes. Sometimes they're the red ones, sometimes the mary janes, sometimes my worn sandals. While sometimes I have a little sigh because I wished that I was putting on those beautiful leather boots that I've been coveting, it isn't meltdown material. Just a dream.
Back to the post that never was: my first week at home with both of the girls taught me that I have a lot of work to do in the area of patience. There are times when I get all hard on myself regarding my inability not to be annoyed when my plans are thwarted by the tiny people living in my house, but then I remind myself that I'm human and incapable of perfect behaviour. Then Alyce breaks into a song and all is usually forgotten. Usually.
Anyone who has lived through the preschool years: any advice for how to get out of the house with fewer meltdowns?