Honey, I'm sorry. This blog will inevitably contain posts that may not portray you for the wonderful man that you are....so this is for you.
Men are infuriating, insensitive, unable to think like women and enjoy a simplicity that my brain cannot fathom. However, they are our rocks, our providers, our encouragers, our biggest fans, lovers, confidants and best friends.
In the time of my life when I am most frustrated with my partner, I have been bombarded with scary realities of other wives within my realm who are not graced with the leisure of forever criticizing their husbands.
I have seen a young family lose a father/husband. I have seen a friend lose the natural process of conceiving a child while her husband suffers the recovering effects of Leukemia. I have seen a 30 year marriage blown apart by an emotional affair, leaving devastation to a lonely wife. I've seen enough. Then today, a fellow coffee cohort relayed some potentially scary news about her hubby.
Lives and marriages are being tried, turned inside out and completely rearranged all around me and I refuse to sit back and continue to be un-thankful for the man that I have....
The man who loves me even though I'm irrational. The man who wants me even though I'm overweight. The man who works twelve hour days so that I can nurture and be available for our three boys. The man I criticize, yet finds an abundance of mercy to dispense to me. I love my husband.
To be honest, I've been a down right bitch...contentious, unreasonable and ungrateful. In the midst of our own petty discord, I CHOOSE to love and obey my God. I CHOOSE to love and reverence my husband. I CHOOSE to rearrange my thoughts as a response to all the rearranging I've witnessed. I CHOOSE to change rather than try to change him.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
A Little Boy Sang
We have been under a foot-deep blanket of snow for almost two weeks now. My patience and creative parenting skills are weakening with each additional snow day but I decided to focus on something positive rather than my ever-extending list of snow covered woes.
A dreamer, a grouch much like his mother
A voice, a talent unlike any other.
Unique to him, gifts given by God
But a solo? Really? This seemed odd.
He stood by the keys, in a room full of friend
Encouraged by his teacher to see it to the end
His voice sang out and amazement struck all
From his head to his cheeks the color of red falls.
A secret audition unknown to me
But the pride of his teacher let the news be free.
His God is smiling and I'm sure the bells rang
All because a little boy sang.
My son Trevor is like me in so many ways. He fears failure, heights and rejection. He's fun-loving, yet guards himself from others.
When I recieved the message from his music teacher that he had done an "amazing" solo audition for the upcoming spring concert, I was completely caught off guard. Not that he could sing, I knew that. I hear him singing in his room but I've stopped telling him how naturally inclined he is because he becomes embarassed and the music dies. However, after some thought I wasn't so surprised he hadn't told me about the big audition. I am practically frozen by the fear of failure. If I have a fantastic idea or a big dream, I keep it tucked closely inside until success is likely or guaranteed. Why I don't want those who love me there during the adventure, I'm not sure. I do know for sure that I don't want my son to mimic this fear. He is so open about his feelings, asking questions about the hard stuff but he hides his attempts from me...I want to be there for it all. The high prides, the fallen tears.
I spilled over him for his bravery, explaining I wish for a little bit of that as an adult. He took a step. A big one. He made others smile...I'd say that's success.
A dreamer, a grouch much like his mother
A voice, a talent unlike any other.
Unique to him, gifts given by God
But a solo? Really? This seemed odd.
He stood by the keys, in a room full of friend
Encouraged by his teacher to see it to the end
His voice sang out and amazement struck all
From his head to his cheeks the color of red falls.
A secret audition unknown to me
But the pride of his teacher let the news be free.
His God is smiling and I'm sure the bells rang
All because a little boy sang.
My son Trevor is like me in so many ways. He fears failure, heights and rejection. He's fun-loving, yet guards himself from others.
When I recieved the message from his music teacher that he had done an "amazing" solo audition for the upcoming spring concert, I was completely caught off guard. Not that he could sing, I knew that. I hear him singing in his room but I've stopped telling him how naturally inclined he is because he becomes embarassed and the music dies. However, after some thought I wasn't so surprised he hadn't told me about the big audition. I am practically frozen by the fear of failure. If I have a fantastic idea or a big dream, I keep it tucked closely inside until success is likely or guaranteed. Why I don't want those who love me there during the adventure, I'm not sure. I do know for sure that I don't want my son to mimic this fear. He is so open about his feelings, asking questions about the hard stuff but he hides his attempts from me...I want to be there for it all. The high prides, the fallen tears.
I spilled over him for his bravery, explaining I wish for a little bit of that as an adult. He took a step. A big one. He made others smile...I'd say that's success.
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