The Perfection of Imperfection

I have had a little bit of a revelation recently. When Pete and I first got married I wanted to do everything right, to be the "perfect wife". He had a job and I didn't and even though I was going to school and doing an internship I felt that all the housekeeping and homemaking should fall on me and I wanted to do that for him. (Not that he didn't offer to help, he did, relentlessly, but I was attempting to be June Cleaver and wouldn't let him).

I loved decorating the apartment, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry. For a little while my apartment ran like a well-oiled machine and I enjoyed knowing that I had made that happen. Then exams started, papers became due, and all of a sudden my well-oiled machine had some kinks in it. I would get so stressed out, still refusing Pete's help, thinking that if I were a good wife I could do it all perfectly and when I didn't I felt like a failure. This did not make me a great wife, this made me a weepy wife with a short fuse. Pete continued to to reassure me that I didn't have to be superwoman, and that I was the best wife he could ask for but I didn't believe him. I still had the illusion in my head of the wife I should be and I wasn't measuring up. Then recently it hit me. Being a good wife, and having a good marriage is not based on how fast the laundry gets done, or how great you cook, it measured by the amount of love, understanding, and respect you have for each other. I took a step back and looked at my life, and I have the most loving husband in the world who understands me and wouldn't want me any other way than just the way I am. My life is amazing.

So even though the laundry sometimes stays in the dryer longer than it should before getting folded, sometimes the bed goes unmade, and sometimes we order pizza for dinner when I am too tired to cook we have a great life! I am trying to be the very best wife I can be starting by realizing what really matters and being so much happier for it!