When I was a kid, I used to feel frustrated at my parents for what I thought of as their lack of consistency in certain areas.
Looking back, I realize it was stupid little things that bothered me.
Why hadn’t I played one sport that I could excel at all through high school?
Or taken an instrument for years at a time, so that I could really master it?
Why had I hopped around from a private school, to a public school, and finally been homeschooled?
We talked often about moving when I was a kid or about my mom working. I would get used to some of my parents ideas, and then get really disappointed if the idea fell through.
I vowed to run my own family like clockwork.
Consistent schooling, consistent extracurriculars, consistent peers, consistent expectations. No confusion.
It’s all very, very laughable now.