The pressure I feel to perform better across all aspects of my life is breathtakingly overwhelming.
My family, I suspect, like most others, does the post-work, pre-dinner dance that goes a little like: What do you want for dinner? I dunno, what are you thinking? [from the sidelines]: Pizza! Nachos! Chocolate! Chicken nuggets! Let’s go to McDonald’s! Swiss Chalet! Montanas! Cookies! Can I have dessert? Will there be extra? NO SWEET… Continue reading what the hell do you want to eat?
Quicker than you can say “bicycle”, we were at the back of the store to pick out a helmet and asking someone to get the bike he’d selected ready for us.
My heart breaks as I’m biting my tongue to try to not to rush to F’s defence; letting him cry it out when he’s done wrong and had to be disciplined; watching him try to fix things for himself.