Volcano to Zen Master: My PhD in Patience🌋🌋🌋🧘🧘🧘

What have you been working on?

Patience. The word itself sounds like a soothing cup of tea, doesn’t it? But anyone who’s been in the trenches of marriage and parenthood knows better. It’s less about sitting peacefully on a lotus flower and more about dodging Legos while trying to explain to your toddler why “no” really means no – for the 157th time that day🙃.

Once upon a time, before marriage and kids, I wasn’t exactly the queen of patience. I could probably best be described as a volcano, simmering below the surface, ready to erupt over anything from a slow-moving cashier to a misplaced remote. Then came marriage, and as if on cue, I was given the biggest test of my life: a husband. Now, don’t get me wrong – he’s a great guy I choose him, but let’s be real.

Just when I thought I had mastered the art of politely suggesting that dirty socks belong in the laundry basket, not on the floor, along came the kids. Three little bundles of joy, and with them, an endless stream of “why?” questions, spilled milk, and tantrums in the grocery store. You see, there’s a cosmic law that states the moment you’re running late for something important, your kids will suddenly transform into human sloths. And you – the former volcano – are expected to smile and somehow coax these little creatures out the door without losing your mind. Enter patience.

It was in these chaotic, toy-strewn moments that I realized there was no room for my temper. I couldn’t keep erupting like I used to. So, what was the solution? Simple: I had to become a student of patience. Now, let me tell you, this is no ordinary school. It’s the kind of place where the exams are every day, and your teachers are under three feet tall and seem to thrive on pushing your buttons. My PhD in patience is still a work in progress, but every day I get a little closer.

Humor is my secret weapon. Because if you can’t laugh at the fact that your toddler just used your brand-new lipstick to draw a “mural” on the wall, you might actually cry. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? Those frustrating moments are just part of the bigger picture. When you realize that the child who just threw spaghetti across the room will one day leave for college and you’ll miss those messy dinners, it gets a little easier to breathe through the madness.

Here’s the thing about patience: it’s not about being perfect or never losing your cool. It’s about trying again and again, even when it feels like you’re getting nowhere. It’s about finding humor in the chaos and realizing that every moment – even the tough ones – is fleeting. So, I continue to practice. Someday, I might just get that PhD.

Patience is a muscle you’ll never stop flexing,
Like waiting for Wi-Fi, when your bar’s perplexing.
You’ll think you’ve got it, then chaos will dance,
But just breathe, dear parent, and give it a chance!

Funny how life works – just when you think you’ve nailed patience, life throws you a curveball. But with enough laughter and a little grace, we’ll all pass the test… eventually.