At bedtime, the race is on. As soon as the pajamas are on, my four year-old declares, “Race ya!” He expects to win, but he still wants me to try. I think he wants me to almost win.
Some days, I can oblige. Other days, he protests, “You are too slow!” That’s when I cannot provide the adequate challenge he needs to feel significant.
SOME days, I can actually run to his bed. And I do. And I win. And he cries.
I’m sorry if it seems mean. I just don’t want him to see me as lazy… There’s no need to wonder where he gets his love of challenge.
Lately, I feel just like my son. The race is on! There is so much I want to get done.
I feel like it all needs to be done “yesterday.” I love the challenge of it all. But, I’d like to “win,” too.
Winning the race is getting it all done. Crossing stuff off the list. Getting on top of it all.
There is the problem of the speed limit enforced by RA. Mostly, I think I am doing so well “under the circumstances.” I JUST DON’T WANT TO STAY UNDER THEM. It’s uncomfortable under there.
At least I am enjoying the challenge.
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