In case it's hard to tell, it's a photo of Brady, who was very angry because he (in his own words) had "nothing to do" during the long, odious hour between dinner and bedtime.
I've gotta be honest: I wanted to yell at him and to tell him to stop being so freaking stupid. I wanted to pop him on the bum. But I didn't do either of those things because as I watched and listened to him rant and rave like a six year old, I thought about myself and the ways in which I rant and rave to God like a six year old. (And I don't even have the excuse of being an actual six year old.) So I tried to deal with him the way God deals with me: I tried to get him to tell me exactly why he was so frustrated, and I told him that I love him but that his behavior wasn't acceptable. And then, when it became clear that he wasn't really interested in what I had to say, he went to bed and I pushed the reset button and silently prayed that he'd get it... eventually.
Even after all of that, I'm thankful to be a parent and to have the gift of loving little people into adulthood. It's frustrating and heartbreaking and infuriating at times, but there really is no better job.
No comments:
Post a Comment