Who the hell is that?

I've come to the conclusion that I am a hypocrite. I have been feeling very angry towards my son and as I, once again, tried hard not to say something I finally decided to take a deep breath and think. Why am I being so irrational over something so insignificant?

My son wanted to learn guitar and has been taking lessons since early spring. To my surprise,  he signed up for chorus and band stating that he would need these in order to join Jazz band next year. A week into the new school year he was disappointed when the band class said he couldn't join because he didn't know how to play any instrument besides guitar. I wanted to show him not to settle if this is really a dream, so I told him to talk to his teacher about options. In turn the teacher quizzed him and told him he could skip band and try out for Jazz. I was proud of him. He was excited.

I spoke with his private guitar teacher who started teaching him Jazz chords which would help in tryouts. I noticed my son refused to practice. When I asked he said Jazz was 'boring elevator music'. I told him it didn't matter, he wasn't signing up for life. I said it would be good for him to experiment with different music and learn to play with others if his intent is to continue in music. And thus a feud was born.

I can go on and on over the thousand reasons for my anger; he's quitting another thing, most of the boys in the family are quitters and look where they are now, it's not about the music, blah blah blah. Because the fact is I know he's a kid. And I know he'll join and quit a thousand more things on his journey. But....he is talented and is letting his shyness and fear of failure get in the way. 

And that's where it finally occurred to me that I am a hypocrite. I remembered reading somewhere that the characteristics you hate about someone are usually the characteristics of your shadow self. And suddenly it's like looking at myself in the department store mirror under those hideous lights wearing a bathing suit in the middle of winter. Yikes! So I start to feel guilty about pushing him to confront his fears when I can barely confront my own. So I try striking a deal..."you try out for Jazz and I'll paint more canvases". No he says. And I want to clunk him on the head with the paintbrush...or wait till he's sleeping and paint swirlies all over his face.

My Mama finds this amusing; reminding me that our family crest shows two rams bumping horns. "You're alike" she says laughing, "Wait till he's a teenager." Arghhh....

Tryouts are tomorrow. 

Who knows what'll happen. 

I'll keep quiet. 

In the interim, I've got to take a closer look at this Shadow-self.