July 27, 2001 - Friday
Tonight Harry was teaching his father about patience.

I leave tomorrow morning for a conference at which I will be delivering a two-plus hour lecture, then moderating two more sessions with panelists and, unfortunately, when it came to be Harry's bedtime this evening, I still had plenty of preparation work to do. I went in to sing to Harry as usual, but my mind was clearly distracted and I couldn't help feeling that it would have been best if Harry just went to sleep promptly and I got on with my work. But, it doesn't always work that way and tonight Harry saw things differently. Actually, relatively speaking, it took Harry about as long as usual to fall asleep. It just seemed to me to be a long time and with each turn about the bed, each fidgeting movement, each little act that made it clear that Harry, again as usual, wasn't completely excited about going to sleep, I could feel my frustration swell.

Yet, Harry was not at fault here, and I could feel how misplaced my growing anger was. I couldn't be mad at Harry for acting in his usual way. I couldn't rue the opportunity to sing to him as I enjoy doing each night, especially when I will be away for three nights starting tomorrow. And, I couldn't malign him for keeping me from work when these moments with him are the ones I want to remember for life. But, in the heat of pressure and pending anxiety, those things are hard to overcome. Fortunately, Harry is a good teacher.


Comments, opinions?