Fix you? Fix me.

I just scratched the back of my hand on a sheet metal screw.

This is the thing that drives me the most nuts...Zhenya is attracted to our air vents. He gets in trouble every single time and he goes back for more. Like a moth to a flame.

What is the payoff for him? He's got to be getting something out of it or he wouldn't go back to them time and time again.

I have to keep furniture on top of them so he can't get the covers off. The leg of his crib normally sits on top of the vent in his room. I didn't like the crib there so I moved it the other day thinking perhaps he had forgotten his naughty obsession.
Nope.

I just got done pulling a boatload of toys out of the duct. Why would he stuff all those toys in there? I'm just irritated. And bleeding.

I have a choice to let petty things like this drag me down. It's not the only petty thing on my mind. They distract me from my true purpose. Perhaps I'm more like Zhenya than I would like to admit.

I know that I should not dwell on minor irritations. I can not control the actions of other people whether they are 4 years old or 44. But I can't seem to help myself. I gotta fix things. I never learn.

So I'm going to attempt to treat Zhenya and others the way my undoubtedly irritated loving Father treats me...with large doses of grace and unconditional love. That's probably the only way to fix things.