Entry 18/365

From Latin impatientia "impatience; weakness," from impatiens "intolerant, impatient". 

Being a mother requires an unsummoned, unhuman amount of patience. Trying to talk anything - much less any reason - to a 3-7 years human being is a job for the gods. And even Zeus had his fair share of impatience with his offspring. 

As very mortal as I am, I suffer from the ailment of impatientia. It is a weakness that made me talk louder when I should strive for kindness and calm-heartedness. Perhaps, I am expecting too much from myself, and my standards are high. Impatience and loudness are the vices I most frequently fight against as a mother and many times I fail. There are many wins too. 

It is in self-reflection that I manage the consequences - mainly guilty, pain, and doubt - of the poor hand I again played in the game of life.  On every mistake, however,  a small move towards improvement is made and with that, I can find some peace. 

Tonight, I tell myself..."there is hope, Giselle. there is hope." - still ravaged by the thought that my impatience had caused sadness or confusion to my children. 

For tonight I will lie down in the arms of Morpheus and ask him to take this away. 

"Tomorrow is another day." - he will whisper in my ear. 

He always seems to be right. 

***

Giselle