She posted about how one day she didn't have much motivation and didn't want to get out of bed or shower or anything. One day. One lazy day. And she was freaking out and calling herself a terrible wife, and saying how she'd had such a hard time that day.
The second post was a few hours from that same blogger. She posted about how well she and her husband eat. How she can throw random ingredients together in the crock pot and end up with a beautiful and delicious meal. How her potato soup is the best. How she is a wonderful cook.
This really struck me the wrong way. I have been feeling every day like she was in her first post. Every single day. I think I am married to the perfect man. He never leaves socks on the floor, never leaves dirty dishes in the sink. He's organized and studious. He is practically perfect in every way.
I had all these dreams of being the best wife I could be. I was a pretty good girlfriend, an okay fiancee, but now I leave all my clothes on the floor, because I hate putting laundry away. I sometimes (usually) don't make the bed until I get back from class or work. I let dishes pile up, and when I actually do try to do them, I make a mess. I am very easily distracted, and not motivated to work hard in classes I don't enjoy. I try to cook healthy, homemade meals for us, but sometimes we just end up with hamburger helper. I am a bad influence when it comes to grocery shopping because I want to get something to feed my cheesecake obsession. The potato soup turns out watery and disgusting.
Her post wasn't bad. She later talked about how she got over that feeling of being a failure. I know this wasn't her goal in writing, but it made me feel a hundred times worse. If that one day made her a "terrible wife," what does the last two months make me?
With valentine's day coming up, I want to brag a little about husband. He's wonderful. He is so patient with me and all my imperfections, puts up with my overreactions, and can handle me when I get overly emotional, which is a lot. When I get feeling down, he always tells me how lucky he is to be married to me. Which, while I don't understand that most of the time, is something I absolutely need to hear. He's super handsome, and he smells nice, and he'll eat the disgusting failed potato soup, and tell me that it's really good, and that I did a good job. He is silly, and he can always make me laugh, even though I'm doing my best to pout. He's snuggly. He wanted me to clear that up. My last post made it sound like he doesn't appreciate snuggles. He didn't like that.
Basically. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone. I'm a lucky girl.
I think I'll keep him.