Yesterday was emotionally rough but it had less to do with diet and more to do with the work of getting older. It seems sometimes that the quest to improve and grow and change never lets up, and I get tired of it. It didn’t help that when I returned home last night, for the second week in a row, Steve had only prepared a meal for Claire (Wednesdays are his night to cook) and it smelled delicious, again. This time it was spaghetti. Unlike last week, I wasn’t quite as patient. I was tired and hungry and didn’t want to wait until 9:00 P.M. to eat and so the warm, nutritious vegan meal I had imagined remained a figment and I was irritated. To quell my hunger I ate a protein bar, dried mango and home-roasted sunflower seeds which I scarfed as if it were a final meal. By the time Steve finished his online class, I was in bed reading and completely uninterested in eating his salad or interacting with our sleep-deprived teenager who’s been taking finals all week and treats her mother, the-source-of-all-suffering, discourteously.
How do you teach your offspring that procrastination can make a task more difficult?
Our little student has been uninterested in any of my studying suggestions this week and growled when I asked how she discovered, the night before her final exam, that she didn’t understand a math block. Seems to me she might’ve noticed sooner. But then, why should I expect my 14-year-old daughter not to procrastinate when the woman who raised her is adept at it. I mean really, I’m in the second-half of my life and started eating for optimal health 17 days ago!
Can’t she learn from my mistakes?
Perhaps she can but it will occur on her time table and not on mine because as she gets older, she too will get wiser. It’s part of the . . .
age = wisdom
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