Ode to Joy

 

Here is our oldest son (aka the Pied Piper) rocking his “black-belt” recorder test. If you do not know what a recorder is, let me explain: it’s this skinny plastic tube that makes unbearable noise early in the morning after you hear, “Dang it! I forgot to practice ‘Amazing Grace’!” B and I are singing our own ‘Ode to Joy’ now that his training is complete.

   

 

I need to vent

He criticizes everything I do. The first words out of his mouth are usually negative. He picks fights over ridiculous things. He acts like a dictator, ordering me around as if I was put on this earth only to serve him. He can make me feel small—like I’m not enough. I worry about going out with him in public—he can be so unpredictable. But then he smiles that special smile or gives me a kiss and guess what? I totally forgive him. Again. If he were my boyfriend, I’d break up with him. But I can’t... he’s my two-year-old son. God, grant me patience.