It's (Almost) Always My Fault

This is not a post about how humble I am or how perfect my husband is. This is not about how we have the secret to marriage. This is a post about my knocking my head into the wall of truth I should have mastered by now.

My husband and I don't fight very often. We just aren't take out our high strung emotions by yelling at each other sort of people. Oh wait. That's a lie.  Only one of us is. Which is a darn good thing. When we do get upset with one another, for whatever reason, it doesn't ever end well until I realize one essential point:

It's probably my fault.

Not always or completely.  But probably at least 50% my fault.  Because I am not perfect, not even remotely.  I am flawed, biased, sinful, and unable to keep my emotions in check.  And that's when I'm not pregnant.

It's not because I'm a woman, or not particularly, it's because I'm human.  And guess what? I'm in a relationship with another human being.  Who has a whole person full of opinions, prejudices, intentions, and experiences I don't always understand, although trying is part of this life together.

So what are the chances that I might have misunderstood, misinterpreted, overreacted, or made a mistake myself? Very high, my friend.

Ultimately, the only person whose mistakes I can fix are my own.  The soul I need to examine is my own.  When I find myself listing my complaints, I should probably start listing my own sins. I guarantee you the list will be longer and more constructive.

I might not know the secret to happiness, but I know some which lead to unhappiness: blaming someone else, expecting them to change, not taking responsibility for your actions, and holding on to your pride, to name a few.

Does this mean the next time we disagree and my husband reminds me of this post, I won't throw something at him?
Probably not.  But maybe every once in a while I might focus on my part in a quarrel and fix it faster. One day, God willing , I might even avoid a few.

Today is: The feast of Sts. Cosmos and Damien
Finn is reading: King Arthur's Very Great Grandson by Kenneth Kraegel
Gigi is reading: whatever she can get her mouth on
Mama is reading: see above

And finally a picture of what "Tosto" looks like with two crazy babies