Difficult?


Yeah, so over on the cubLAWg everyone whines about grades, and I was whining about parking and what a travesty it would be if I had to do something so difficult as walking from lot 416 to the law school, rather than 402 (poor poor pitiful me).

But walking that far ain't got nuthin' on trying to wrap my skull around the rules of evidence. It feels like I keep trying to stuff 'em in, but they keep falling out the other side.

But you know what? Evidence, and Law School, ain't difficult. Nope. Unh-huh. Not a bit. Not compared to parenting teenagers. Compared to that, law school is a piece of cake. Parenting a teen is a little bit like discovering a butterfly emerging from chrysalis on a meadow-clearing bulldozer on a windy day--you can't do nothin' about the meadow, but you can do something about the chrysalis, only then you've got to hold it gently as the butterfly emerges. You cannot help it emerge, but you've got to shield it from the windstorm long enough to let its wings spread and dry. Gently, safely, patiently, without crushing it, leaving just enough room to open and expand those wings... all while the butterfly doesn't want to be held at all and would rather leap off your hand into the wind, half-wet without wings ready. There are some days I hate parenting teenagers. It is the hardest task I know of.

Except...

Not getting to parent your teen. That I cannot even bring my mind to think about. I don't see how his parents do it.

And so, I complain about parking. Because complaining is easy. It is easier to complain about parking than think about everything else there is to think about that keeps me awake at night.



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