Just a Little Patience

When I was a young mother, I read an article about tolerance levels. The article claimed that there is a simple litmus test for a caregiver's ability to cope with...well, care-giving. According to this piece of media, an adult should expect children to act like children. When this expectation is met through means fair or foul --wanting to be held or drawing on the newly decorated formal dining room wall with mom's newest (and most expensive) lipstick-- the adult reaction would be to laugh. If the adult cries or screams or yells, the adult's expectations did not match the situation, and the grownup is clearly not taking care of herself or himself.
My gut response was "hogwash". Children cannot walk around randomly vandalizing living spaces (or violating mom's personal space). Any sane, rational, caring person would morph into a screaming meemie under those circumstances.
And then there came a day when my preschool child painted the bathtub (and toilet and bathroom walls and my BRAND NEW ROBE) with my sparkly, RED nail polish.
I am not entirely sure what factor pushed me into reasonableness, but reasonable I was. Maybe I had eaten well or slept enough. Maybe I had time to myself. Whatever the reason, I did not yell. I did NOT laugh either, but at least I did not feel murderous or like a maternal failure or as though this episode proved my son's lack of humanity. I calmly explained to him that these were not appropriate uses for nail polish. I made him help me clean.
I felt far from happy, but I was in complete control of my reaction.
Fast forward to teaching.
During my first year, I did not lose my patience. No matter what my students did, I felt calm, collected, and in control. I saw a low homework turn in rate as an opportunity to work on communicating, collecting, and calling. I saw too much talking as an opportunity to tighten up my procedures. All I saw was opportunity.
This patience has waned over the years. Often I find my vision of opportunity blocked by disappointment in student choices. Why can't they just listen? What is so hard about just working? Isn't learning a choice?
It felt better to see the opportunity. Even though I was less experienced at the time, I felt more effective. I was giving more of myself, but I felt less used and less depleted.
Have you felt a shift during your career? Is it natural, or is there something I can do to increase my patience? Please write the tips and tricks you use for coping in the comment box below.