The myth of patience

Probably the number one comment I get after I tell someone that I homeschool my kids is, “Oh, I would never have the patience for that.” as if I must have patience oozing from every pore of my body. First of all, if you don’t have enough patience with your kids you really should work on that, whether you homeshool or not. Secondly, I’m not exactly the patience poster child.

Eden (for the 100th time): What’s a noun again?


I’m mean, seriously? You’re in the 4th grade! What if a public-schooler heard you say that?! (That part was not out loud. Promise.)

I am quite positive that teachers think this stuff, they just might get in trouble for actually saying it.

On an average day the casual observer probably would think I’m unnaturally patient. I usually amaze myself. Like when it’s time for math and all of a sudden my daughter decides she needs use the bathroom…again. Or has to clean her ears with a Qtip. Or is in such dire need for a snack she probably won’t be able to think straight if she doesn’t have a pudding cup. For the most part I stay cool through this stuff, especially at the library because other humans are there. I think it’s because I have the dogs to yell at. I have three… one for each kid and an extra in case of emergencies. The dogs won’t cry when I go all ape crazy on them, they can’t tell anyone and can’t afford therapy. I also know that I can unload everything on John when he gets home. I notice that he never asks, “So? How was your day?” until he’s had a chance to change out his work clothes and relax for a bit.

He is a wise man.

Here is something I do though, when we pray with the kids at bed time and I recognize my fuse has been a little short, I’ll ask God out loud in front of them, “Help me be a patient mom and make good choices for my kids, and give us more love for each other.”


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