I drove my parents crazy

I feel deceitful. I have managed to trick the universal forces that my mother set in motion with the infamous words, “I hope your children are just like you!” I am blessed, and a little sneaky, to have basically escaped this curse. Most of the time I have three manageable, kindhearted, easygoing children.

And then there are the other days. Days that make me wonder what I did to deserve this. Those are the days when my childhood flashes before me and it all becomes clear. I remember the days of driving my own parents crazy. There are certain personality traits that make a child loveable, that draw adults to them. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have any of them. I was at the opposite end of the spectrum. I didn’t have looks, so I learned to rely on my personality, and boy, did I have a lot to offer! I was extremely picky, exceptionally whiny, painfully shy and gravely serious.

I know I was whiny, because I actually remember my mom telling me, over and over again, to “STOP WHINING!” I hated everything my mom made, except sweets. I was sure that all adults would kidnap me, and prevented this from happening by staying in the house at all times. My parents would tell me “It’s okay if someone takes you, because they will bring you back.” I don’t remember laughing much, and took myself and others very seriously. I was afraid of my own shadow, and was without an ounce of hand-eye coordination. To top it off, I thought I was an adult trapped in a child’s body. I couldn’t understand why my mom would make me leave the room for adult conversation. My parents nicknamed me “Memorex,” because not only did I love listening to adult conversation, I would repeat it word for word at the most inopportune times.

I imagine my parents developed qualities of patience, endurance, longsuffering and mildness every day of my childhood. So on those days when I am ready for a nervous breakdown, I have to laugh, think of myself as a little girl and thank the stars that my children are not even close to the child that I was. Hallelujah!


What did you do as a child that would have drove your parents crazy?

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Patience!

I am the queen of impatience! I would like to live in the faraway land of instant results, have-it-now, don’t-make-me-wait . . . but so far I haven’t found it. To my dismay, what I have discovered is that eighty percent of life involves the one quality I am lacking: patience—the ability to not act hastily and persevere with joyfulness. The other twenty percent of life involves actually doing: seizing the opportunity and acting.

The positive side is that I am consistent: consistently impatient with everything in my life. I was impatient to grow up, to get married, to buy a house, to have children. I am impatient with people, money, time, my kids, my husband, my family. So what do I gain from my impatience, besides gray hair? Truthfully, nothing! There is not one situation that my impatience has made better.

Here are some words that go hand in hand with patience: enduring without complaint (not a chance), tolerant (nope), tranquil (no way). So what’s the opposite of patience? Irritable (for sure), resentful (okay, but I’m trying to show forgiveness), restless (ninety-nine percent of the time). Is this a HUGE flaw for me? Yes, and the sooner I acquire the skill of patience, the sooner I can move on to another.

So what good things come to those who wait? Peace of mind, better relationships, lasting friendships, a calm heart, spiritual and emotional health, and respect. These are all things I desire. Impatience is waiting for something to happen while life passes you by. It robs you of joy and contentment. Patience is about enduring without complaint, working hard and savoring every moment along the way. So even though I wear the “impatient” crown well, I would much rather be the queen of : what’s the rush, take your time, it’s worth the wait!