Life's little twists and turns don't follow a specified recipe. I'm definitely okay with instability, amidst daily comforts, of course. This little bloggy is a firm example of random-ness. Truth defined by yours truly. Enjoy, or not, a peek into skewed opinions and spurts of subpar brilliance.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Wisdom teeth pulling. Bad wife.

My husband got them pulled today. He walked in looking like a chipmunk and I laughed. Then I realized I should be a 'good wife' and not laugh at him. He didn't appear amused and so, this blog entry.

I'm not that great of a wife, in the traditional sense, I mean. I'm no June Cleaver, nor am I Betty Crocker. I don't exactly dote on my husband, and I'm neither meek nor am I subservient. I am however, a strong woman who supports this man 100%. When he doubts himself, I don't let him. When he questions decisions, I don't allow for it. A pastor once called me the female Barnabas - the apostle/son of encouragement (translated "Bas"nabas - daughter of encouragement). I do proclaim to be an encourager by nature and am my husband's biggest supporter, which I believe is what makes our relationship ours. We support each other and understand one another, and fully accept who we are as individuals. Together, we make a solid team.

As I begin this Air Force Officer's wife journey, I can't help but question "what makes a good wife?" There's underlying strangeness in this bubble, of which I can't put my finger on quite just yet. Perhaps it really does just come down to my own insecurities. Besides, it's only been a few months of living this lifestyle, who am I to fully judge? My experienced vague weirdness though, although undefined, is probably why I've come to question if I'm doing things "right." Thus, the ponderings above. Thank goodness my husband doesn't expect traditional womanly roles from me. And he really shouldn't. He married me for me. My friends and family would never define me as a Stepford Wife, but more importantly, they'd categorically say I'm no 'sell out'. So why would I sell myself short and be a shell of who I am to prove that I'm a good wife? Who am I trying to prove anyway? I think Basnabus works for the both of us and although I'm no Martha Stewart, I certainly aim to be a Million Dollar Decorator. I love a fabulous throw pillow and can accessorize like no other.

1 comment:

Tara said...

Poor Mark!

And I would have laughed, too! When my husband was drugged for dental work, I laughed so much because he became ridiculous.

I'm an excellent wife.