Admitting I am wrong is not something that comes easily or naturally to me. Perhaps it has something to do with my descending from a line of people who tend to believe they are most often right. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that usually...well, I am right. Ahem. Moving right along.
I can liken my marriage to a favorite c.d., a faithful old mix of my most favorite songs. Songs that are familiar, comfortable. Feel good music by which I can dance my way through life. My husband and I groove through in the dance that he and I have perfected over time. Then, just like with that faithful old c.d., my husband and I hit a scratch. Errrrrr...music stops. Like today.
Part of our Sunday routine is my preparing the menu/grocery list and his going to the store to retrieve the items on said list. Nap time for the little ones rolled around in the middle of my making this list (as it usually does), and Addyson decided to pitch a fit today. Instead of immediately squelching her tantrum (because, come on, every dad knows how to do this), Andy gave a little try, then waited for me to do something about it. At least that was my clouded perception at the time. So I grew bristles. Bristles the likes of which you usually only see on the teddy bear cholla. Sounds cute and cuddly, right? Guess again. Get too close to one of these little suckers and OUCH! Well, Andy was unfortunate enough to get jabbed with a few of my prongs today. My attitude went from bad to worse when his response to me was just to bristle right back. Seems normal, right? Well, sadly it too often is...normal I mean.
Why should it be though? I am sitting here now thinking about what I jerk I was. Seriously. Was it that big of a deal that he didn't fix the situation to my satisfaction? How sad that in that moment all I could think about was myself, and the fact that he wasn't behaving as I thought he should. How quickly all his other good deeds went by the wayside. Both days this weekend, Andy got up with our daughter (who seems to be closely related to the rooster), so that I could sleep in. This morning, as he does every Sunday, he got the two little ones dressed and ready for church (after feeding them breakfast) so that I could get ready myself. Awesome, right? So you think I should be able to cut him a little slack, and loose my nasty attitude. I know, I think so too.
That's why I have decided to make the proclomation here on my blog for all to read. Andy has some wonderful qualities, and I like to think that a good deal of the time I am able to bring out those qualities. Sometimes, though...I clearly do not. So from now on I will work my hardest to behave in such a way as to bring out those fabulous qualities of which he is chock full. In doing so, he in turn brings out my most redeeming qualities as well. Because let's face it, while the Teddy Bear Cholla sounds cute, it's just not.