Really, only one thing: criticism.
I was going to write a pretty thoughtful entry about something I think is true about parenting. I think it would have been a great little post, especially for those who parent small people. Maybe one day I'll write it.
But just as I started to type, SJ asked a question or something that made me want to figure something out. So I figured it out and sent it to him and while he was appreciative, he also asked if there wasn't a better way to figure this thing out. A reasonable question, particularly since it turned out he was right, but it Set. Me. Off.
Like, I'm so mad I can't even change the TV channel. And it's a pretty terrible hockey game (also making me mad) so that's saying something.
I'd like to think it's my birth order, or maybe just the nature of All Humanity, that makes any questioning or coaching feel like an assault on my character and person. But I think it's just pansy-ism. And perhaps that pesky Passion for Me that makes any hint of weakness in Me a bit ...passion-wrecking. Which is understandably upsetting for a person who took so long to trip across a passion.
I'd take hints on how to get over this, but frankly, they'd just make me angrier.
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