The hardest part of being a parent.
Apart from the terrifying thought of outliving your kids*.
Is maintaining composure, patience in the face of them and their chaos. Yesterday my eldest and I fell out. Today, to her, it was like it never happened.
And yet.
I can’t stop thinking about it.

We’ve been talking about being kind to her brother. “Yes but he doesn’t help me!” “I know that, but then if you don’t help him, he won’t help you and then you won’t help him and forever and ever you won’t help each other.”

Except, do I as a parent hold myself to this standard? The other driver cutting in the line that I could let in but normally don’t.
I can’t stop thinking about it.

*And all the other stuff, obviously.