Super fast forward; Eli is 2.5 and a force of nature. He started pre-school and I freaked out. He is still working on speaking and I freak out. But most importantly, he is happy and profoundly adored and likes to puts things in order--his dinosaurs and balls and blocks. Lines are needed and requested and enjoyed.
This year at work I have an all boys class. 11 Of the sweetest, loudest little human beings on the planet. My voice is literally obliterated by the end, and I say, " Listen to my words!" like 47 times a day. I know alot more about construction workers who wield swords and dinosaurs that "eat your face." I have learned to instruct my guys to say "excuse me" when passing gas and burping and popping each other in the mouth--accidentally, of course.
I'm trying to lighten up. I can't agonize over every possible possibility. I can't make every lame, lazy person give a crap about their contribution to society. It's not my job to be every body's friend or even tolerated for that matter. Deep breaths and careful words are going to be my weapons of choice.
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