And read this:
When the boys were smaller I made certain assumptions. I assumed they cried and made noise for a reason. I assumed they didn’t know or cared when mommy needed quiet, or a drink. I assumed they didn’t know how to eat at a dinner table unless I helped them and showed them the rules/customs. I assumed they needed to feel good to behave well. I assumed they had not been through the years I have and therefore, didn’t know everything like I do. I assumed I needed to provide guidance, love, and to help them meet boundaries. I assumed they were children.
Somewhere down the line I threw my assumptions into a McDonald’s drive-thru window and started expecting my eleven and ten-year-old sons to act like adults. Naturally, I was irritated that they didn’t automatically meet my expectations out at dinner with friends. I was irritated that they couldn’t anticpate when I would find a particular noise so annoying my nerves would glow an intense red. I was irritated they played with toys, laughed, sang, or ran around the house when I WAS WORKING MY GOD STOP I’M WORKING RIGHT NOW CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WORKING!