Is The Lesson In Patience Ever Over?

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Life is constantly trying to teach me patience - waiting for the pot to boil, the traffic light to change, the check to come in the mail and my mother-in-law to refer to me as her daughter-in-law instead of her son's wife.

I started to learn "how to wait without tantrums" when I was a child. I had to learn to wait patiently for parties, for vacations and for time-outs to be over.

Now, however, I think it would be easier to learn "the art of waiting" when you're grown-up. Because time goes by so fast, you wouldn't have to wait so long.

Marriage is probably the biggest lesson in patience. I didn't know how to cook when I got married. When John and I shopped for our first groceries, I bought a bunch of cold cereals. He bought other stuff. When I asked him what he wanted for breakfast the next morning, he said something about eggs soft, sausage crispy and toast dark. When John asked if breakfast was ready, the spatula flew out of my hand and just missed him. It was clear then that I had to learn to cook or learn better aim.

Children are the second biggest lesson and the lesson's at least eighteen years long - "I didn't do it. He did", "Yes, my homework's done", "That's not fair. My friends don't have to be home that early".

I think houses are the third biggest lesson. I know they're the most expensive ones - painting, carpeting, appliances, furniture, leaks and termites. No matter how much we spend on our house, it's always going to be a fixer-upper.

Cars teach some patience, but driving teaches more. In LA it's a three-credit course required for sainthood. Mother Theresa couldn't have driven ten miles in rush-hour traffic without calling out God's son's name at least once.

Usually when I cut my hair, I regret it. While it grows through all the awkward stages, I learn humility. When hats were in fashion, they were stylish solutions for bad hair days. Now I usually opt out for a quick fix - another haircut.

The later I am, the more red lights I have to stop for. The more red lights, the more stressed I get. No more! I'm going to think of red lights as opportunities to change gears and relax - especially when I see a police car in my rear-view mirror.
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