Some days, I feel like I’m watching my child driving a go-kart, coasting down a hill that gets steeper as the day goes on.
It often looks like they have their vehicle under control, but they’re going so fast, one bump or wrong turn could make the wheels fall off. One misjudgment could end in tears. I try to get them to slow down, because if they don’t, they’ll be hurtling downwards and crash long before bedtime. I anticipate obstacles and help them to avoid or overcome them when I can.
When things go wrong, I get out my first aid kit of solutions, distractions, compromises, hugs and calming words, but sometimes exasperation pours out of it. (“THIS is why I asked you to take some deep breaths to calm your body down. If you’d just stopped when I asked you to, this wouldn’t have happened. We could all be having a lovely time.”)
At bedtime, I feel relieved that we made it in one piece, and I chastise myself for fretting all day and not living in the moment, enjoying each precious minute of this incredible life I get to be a part of. I tell myself tomorrow I’ll be more relaxed, but not too much, because I’ll still need to keep an eye out for those obstacles.
