tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703220098202512144.post6077236877102877194..comments2013-05-27T10:00:26.093-04:00Comments on A Life Unexpected: Does Practice Really Make Perfect?JTMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11484296768114310334noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703220098202512144.post-40635531065901666322010-09-02T10:58:08.201-04:002010-09-02T10:58:08.201-04:00Here's a little secret about this Mama: I oft...Here's a little secret about this Mama: I often feel like waging my own tantrums - to clench my fists in a terrific fit of tears and screams. Sometimes, over small things like cold coffee or another pile of dishes in the sink. Sometimes over big things like financial uncertainty and social injustice.<br /><br />When my son is deep in the throws of a tantrum, I am reminded of our similarities. He is scared, frustrated, unsure of his ability to control himself and the world around him. He and I are feeling similar things, he just hasn't been conditioned to control his response. <br /><br />I'm a little envious of his ability to blow off the steam - to just get it out until he falls in a heap of exhausted boy mush. But...I also feel for him. I understand that this is just the beginning. Today he is frustrated because his train tracks keep coming apart. When he gets older, he will endure a broken heart, a lost love, an dissolving dream. <br /><br />When I am intentional and empathetic in my response to his tantrums, I find that we connect on a deeper level. My compassion drives my reaction. I am able to control my frustrations and act with more patience. I am able to see my boy as a small person who is finding his way through a world of confusing rules and mixed-messages. <br /><br />When I can control myself in the midst of his tantrum, I can see beauty in his freedom to rage and sadness in the reality that this is just the beginning.Hungry Dog Heaven - A Dog Barkeryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01203560763587780927noreply@blogger.com