I knew that really getting into blogging would mean I’d have to get personal. This is one of those posts. This is one of the posts that have nothing to do with the kids… But instead the man that helped make them. Me and my husband are like day and night. Literally. He can stay up until sunrise while me on the otherhand I’m ready to call it a night by 10 p.m., maybe midnight on a good night. I am also the responsible one. I make sure my husband is up for work on time and out the door. No matter what shift he works. (Yes, I even wake him up for third shift) If I know he needs to be up at a certain time when I won’t be home I secretly set an alarm on the iPad and put it across the room so he won’t have a choice but to get up. Sometimes I wonder if I baby him too much. But our relationship has been this way for YEARS. We met as teenagers so old habits are hard to break. I remember when he ran away (one of several times) and as a child, I was desperately trying to find him a place to stay. So yeah the more I think about it I am to blame. I created this monster. So the needy factor is part of his personality. While me and him both know he’s capable he just doesn’t because he knows I will. It has to make him feel good when I pick up the socks he has strewn all over the place or maybe he just really enjoys when I ask shit like “Do I need to train the dog to be a seeing eye dog (*waits for his puzzled response*) since you clearly can’t see this big ass hamper right here?” To be completely honest it can be annoying AF at times. But not much will change unless he wants to. And it’s my job to accept that. Have u ever seen the movie ‘War Room?’ There was one part in the movie where the older woman basically told the wife that she had to accept her husband and it wasn’t her job to change him.I believe that line whole heartedly. But that doesn’t mean it’s an easy pill to swallow. I’m quite sure there was a scripture that accompanied the lesson but I have no clue what it was.I am not a staunch Christian who can throw out a scripture when in need of one (so hopefully they don’t require one at the pearly gates entrance). The closest thing to a scripture I know is the Lord’s Prayer and the only “church” songs I know by heart are on God Property’s CD. Nonetheless I am a praying woman. I pray for my husband and I pray for my marriage. Marriage is nowhere near easy. I have to tell myself that a lot. There have been times where I have been downright angry, furious and fed the fuck up. That’s also another big difference between me and my husband. He is so laid back while in certain situations I am the firecracker. If I don’t like something you will definitely know it. But honestly we both are still learning when to pick and choose our battles. I once thought that so much would change once we got married. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything essentially stayed the same except for in the eyes of Uncle Sam. One thing that has changed — my overall attraction to him. There is something about a man wearing a wedding ring. (No sidechicks do not nod your head in agreement) I find it to be such a turn on to catch random glimpses of my husband’s wedding ring. There is a wow factor that just sets in — like “Wow, this man married me and promised to stay with me for better or for worse.” Sure, he is a spoiled brat, which is something I must learn to live with unless he miraculously wakes up one day and decides to get un-bratty. But since the latter is probably not going to happen I have come to terms with the fact that I created this monster and will love him for better or for worse.