Patience tested

As you know, I'm working on being a more patient person. But yesterday, my patience was tested in a couple of ways.

My mom and mother-in-law came yesterday to work on organizing Tara's room (bless them). They installed a closet organizer and helped sort through her piles of clothing, culling all except that which currently fits. (Yeah, I'm bad at that and only do it a couple of times a year when she gets new stuff.)

I helped by sorting through Tara's drawers. But of course, all the twisting and rising tired me out, and now my abdomen is sore. I have to learn to say enough. I have to learn it's okay to let others help (without my assistance).

So, of course, today is a day of rest.

Last night, Noah decided to go on strike because he didn't like what I prepared for dinner, and I made the rare move of insisting he eat what was on his plate. As a result, he absolutely refused to do something we'd asked and wouldn't even give us a reason for his defiance. As a result, Michael and I lost our patience.

Noah apologized later (and we did too). But it wasn't a good scene for a while. As a result, Noah's lost the one thing he values most today - electronics, in its many forms. A trip to the library to find some amusing books is on today's agenda.

My friend, Jackie, told me St. Monica is the patron saint of patience. I think I need a little of her help right now. While overall the healing process is going well and I feel pretty good, I still need a little more patience. Today is only four weeks post surgery and it's perfectly fine to have days of rest and healing.

On a positive note, I'm now a more relaxed driver. I'm not always in such a rush - perhaps because I'm not late for work. I don't get as frustrated with other drivers and I don't need to speed along the city streets, racing from destination to destination. The whole experience is more enjoyable as a result. So I have learned to be a more patient driver. (An old dog can learn new tricks!)

Tina