This was in the witching hour so patience was thin but it wasn’t an unusual reaction. We talk about frustration. Well, I talk about frustration because he can’t talk yet, and that’s part of the frustration. All the big ideas he wants to communicate, all the creative visions he can’t execute, all of the towers that come tumbling down. I feel his pain and rage to the core, humbled by this distillation, the cruel and loving life lesson we don’t get no satisfaction, not as a given without grit.
Your heart is going to break
Your head is going to split
Your soul is going to ache
Your body to the brink, and babe —
it’s OK.
You’re working so hard!
I’m proud how you keep trying.
Let’s take a deep breath ——
and build again.
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