Time, slow down, slow down again.

the time is quiet and good, and I talk to you; Fine water flow year, with you; Prosperity is exhausted, and you are old.

This is the inscription of Baobei's article "Motherly love is always there".

When Miss Li sent me the baby article, I was talking and laughing with my colleagues in the office, opening the page and reading it carefully. Every word poked my heart, and the temperature of the text reached the most fragile nerve in my heart through the back of the paper. I can't help crying when I read it ...

I have been trying to be a good mother, but many things always lead to unpleasant results because of subtle factors. As a result, the "war" between our mother and daughter has always existed:

Baby got more than 8 points in a simple math test in the first grade. Looking at the roll of paper, she was already crying. I was still telling her: "What's going on? Can't you do it so simply? "

A little older. When I saw her absent-minded in class, I criticized her by name and showed no mercy. When answering questions, the article is beside the point, and she will scold a few words rudely. Sometimes she even cries and answers the questions completely ...

Am I a tiger mother? I didn't want to be such a person!

however, I don't remember how many times such things happened. All I know is that I think it's for the good of my child, but I don't know that this little bit of damage has left a mark on her heart, and it is irreparable, let alone impossible to delete.

After the child entered junior high school, he wrote in the article many times:

My mother and I broke up in discord ...

My mother slammed the door and left ...

My mother didn't ask me to be wronged indiscriminately ...

...

My impatience is not an excuse, nor is it an excuse for my child to procrastinate sometimes.

Last Friday, after school in the afternoon, I went back to the dormitory and waited for the children to go home. After a while, my little niece came back. I looked around the door for a long time, and the teachers who lived in the school left school one after another, but my children still didn't show up.

Wait a minute, the corridor of the school is locked, and the round ticket door connecting the dormitory with the school is also locked, but my children are still not in sight. I'm worried about whether she has too many books, which have not been tidied up and locked in the building. Worry slowly turned into irritability.

I quickly asked the administrator to open the door, and after a few steps, I saw my child walking back from the playground with a big schoolbag on his back and a small schoolbag in his hand. When I was in a hurry, I casually shouted: "What are you doing at school, so slow!" The child's little face changed in an instant, and he ignored me. He came home angrily, put down his schoolbag, lay prone on the table and cried.

what's the matter? I cried inexplicably, so I quickly asked, is it a contradiction with my classmates? Or was it criticized by the teacher? None of them turned out to be. It turned out that the teacher delayed the class. After school, representatives of various subjects assigned homework again. The children waited for everyone to leave before locking the door and came back. As a result, the door was locked, so she had to come back by a long way. And I wronged you. I dawdled at school.

I quickly apologized to the child and explained the reason, and this small storm subsided.

really, sometimes it's too impatient.

The gentlest, the most patient and the most understanding side are often given to the children in the class; The fiercest, the most unkind, and the worst side are reserved for their own children. How much injustice the child has suffered, how much have I understood, and how much have I understood?

Be kind to my baby while it is still possible. She is the object of all my love.

I just hope that time, a little slower, a little slower, can make me more patient, be more patient, and count the years with my children.

after many years, I hope to hold hands with my children and laugh together, and count the bits and pieces of today ...