“That’s not fair!”
I hear this refrain so often I’m thinking of tattooing it on the boys’ palms. That way they can just wave their hands in disgust whenever the world (meaning Jeff or I) deal them some cruel blow.
Like going to school on a “snow day.”
Or rewriting a paper with a bunch of mistakes.
Or going to bed at seven o’clock.
Or practicing piano while the brother plays with Bay Blades.
Or having to wipe your own bottom when you are six years old.
There is no end of unfair tragedies that befall the boys, especially Zach. When I try to point out that these events or rules don’t actually meet the criteria for unfairness, it goes something like this:
“So you see, eating vegetarian for dinner is not actually unfair.”
“Yes it is.”
“Because it’s not fair.”
Debate team material he may not be. Politician on the other hand…
Still, I never give up trying. We are going to Costa Rica for two weeks, leaving next Monday. I’ve pointed out that it’s not unfair that his friends have to go to school while we’re gone anymore than it’s unfair that we will have to homeschool through the summer to cover all of the material for the year. (see how i slipped that in there on them?)
All choices come with consequences, I say. Some are good and some are not. It doesn’t help to compare the negative consequences of your situation to the positive consequences of someone else’s.
Whatever. I’m talking to myself.
And you. Thanks for that, by the way.
I really wish my kids were more grateful for everything they have and experience. I wish they were like those other kids – you know the kids I’m talking about. Someone else’s kids. Who seem so dang grateful and content all of the time. Why didn’t I get, I mean raise, kids like that?
It’s just so unfair.