Saturday, March 3, 2018

Teach Me, Teacher

I'm a patient person.  My tolerance level for nonsense is typically relatively high; slow or non-moving traffic doesn't bother me much; long lines in stores are a breeze.

I'm patient.  I have no problem waiting or listening and wading through the irrelevant information to get to the gist.  I appreciate that immediacy isn't a big concern of mine.

I'm patient.

I'm patient. 

I'm patient.

I'm patient. 

Well, at least I thought I was patient. 

Then, Wangari came into my life. 
At some point she turned two.
Then she made it to  three and a half.

And somewhere along the way, as she grew and developed and sprouted and yanked at my nerves and rebelled and didn't "mind" and talked and inquired in the endless way that she does, I learned that I need to work on being...patient. 

Pictured here shortly after overcoming pneumonia!  The elders where I'm from, now ancestors, would be pleased to know she pulled through.  They surely didn't take pneumonia lightly at all, and I was anxious and worried the entire time because of it!

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