Sunday, November 18, 2007

"You are the most opinionated person I have ever met."

Yes, somebody once said this to me.

No, it wasn't a compliment.

It wasn't an insult... but it wasn't a compliment either. It was expressed in astonishment at the sheer number of opinions I had given in the roughly 2-3 hours I had known this person.

The really scary part is it's true; I probably was the most opinionated person he'd ever met. I'm probably the most opinionated person you've ever met too. The problem is I sometimes forget that my opinion about most things doesn't really matter. And though I'm positive there are a few people who actually enjoy having it forced on them - most don't.

I consider myself a passionate person. As a passionate person I sometimes get carried away sharing my passionate opinions. I know it's shocking! I may be passionate about the color of your shoelaces, or where you go to college, or even what you name your dog. But let's face facts - nobody want to hear it and it's none of my business anyway.

On some level I realize this and most of the time I keep myself in check. That is, the only person who has to hear about your shoelaces at the end of the day is my poor husband. Occasionally though, I get out of control. I have been known to get overexcited and maybe even start small arguments over trivial issues. (You can stop gasping in disbelief now).

During the heat of the moment I don't realize that it has become a debate.

My goal is simply to talk until I convince you that I am right... oh... wait... I get it now.

So if you or someone you love has, or ever does become the subject of one of these passionate shoelace tirades, I apologize. Please don't take it personally. Chances are great that on the way home my lovely husband will call me on my argumentative ways and I will feel ashamed and embarrassed by my disdainful my behavior.

Look at it this way - I care enough about you and your shoelaces to have a "passionate opinion" about them.

It's a big flaw, I know.
It's a lifetime goal of mine to overcome it...
and it may actually take me a lifetime so wish me luck!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

The grapefruit syndrome continued...

I was planning on writing an enlightening post outlining my thoughts about this inspired little story and how it applies to my life. My mind is swimming with thought provoking tidbits just screaming to be put into print... but I am tired today. Oh and also I have three children to tend: Number 2 is on a destructive rampage today. Number 1 is currently crying over a toy that was unceremoniously ripped from her possession. At least sweet baby number 3 is snoozing away:) In light of the situation I have decided on the short and sweet version.

This story could have been written about Nick and I. He is constanly over-looking my faults. He lets me rant and rave and say what I need to say and stays steady. As cliche as it sounds he is my rock. Without him I wouldn't have a calm, rational side. I know there are times when he has to think I am crazy, but he never says it. He just flashes that mischevious grin (if you know him, you know what I'm talking about) and keeps on loving me. Now how could a girl be expected to live without that?

Oh and you don't have to tell me that my short version was longer than most people's long version. It always is.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

The grapefruit syndrome

As a newlywed Sister Lola Walters read in a magazine that in order to strengthen a marriage a couple should have regular, candid sharing sessions in which they would list any mannerisms they found to be annoying.

She wrote:
"We were to name five things we found annoying, and I started off.
...I told him that I didn't like the way he ate grapefruit. He peeled it and ate it like an orange! Nobody else I knew ate grapefruit like that. Could a girl be expected to spend a lifetime, and even eternity, watching her husband eat grapefruit like an orange?"
After I finished [with my five], it was his turn to tell the things he disliked about me...[He] said, 'Well, to tell the truth, I can't think of anything I don't like about you, Honey.'"

Gasp.

"I quickly turned my back, because I didn't know how to explain the tears that had filled my eyes and were running down my face."

Sister Walters concluded:
"Whenever I hear of married couples being incompatible, I always wonder if they are suffering from what I now call the Grapefruit Syndrome"

I used to do laundry once a week

When My husband and I were first married I did the laundry... ok who am I kidding. He did the laundry, until I quit working to go back to school full time. Then I began doing laundry. There was no schedule, it was just done at my whim or when said husband got annoyed that he was out of clean underwear!

After our first child was born things got a little more serious. I had to devise a 'cleaning schedule' in order to get things accomplished. Monday was laundry day. I washed one load of our clothes and one load of baby clothes every Monday. Then we had our second child... and to my surprise the schedule stayed the same: I did laundry on Mondays. (Except during his first two weeks of life when he soaked through his clothes and my clothes every time he went).
At this point in life I paused to congratulate myself. Two babies under two and I still only do laundry on Mondays. Now that's impressive! Then the third child came along. Now I do laundry EVERYDAY.
So what I am wondering here is how did one little boy tip the balance? Family of three - routine starts, family of 4 - routine continues as usual, family of 5 - routine thrown out the window? This turn of events just baffles me. I guess I'll never figure it out. But I'm definitely not congratulating myself anymore. Maybe that's where I went wrong in the first place:) I am beginning to wonder what will happpen when we have the next one. I mean I'm literally running out of days - to do laundry that is! Maybe we just need more clothes... hmmm I'll have to ponder that one!