Sinking

Sometimes I feel like I'm functioning just a knife-edge away from mutiny, and that all I can do is to keep the crew (inmates, whatever) happy, whatever the cost, because if they lose it, then we're all down the tubes.

This is not a good long-term parenting strategy.

As captain/first-mate of the ship, I should wield some authority. But that assumes my crew is formed of rational adults who chose the job. In fact, the inmates almost in charge of the asylum are immature, irrational, and incapable of the simplest actions of self-preservation (eating food so that you don't go ballistic, for instance; sleeping during the night so that you can function reasonably during the day; using the bathroom when your bladder's full, for pete's sake). Not to mention the fact that they didn't ask to be born, not that anyone has thrown that one up at me yet, but it's only a matter of time.

So empathetic parenting is only part of the battle. There's also the part about teaching them to be reasonable human beings, doing things that are judged to be civilized and acceptable to the rest of society.

Sometimes I'm hanging on by my fingertips, wondering how I'm going to get myself out of this one, wondering who would win if it came down to just sitting it out, wondering why, with all my years of education and experience more than they have, it's not easier.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.