Well, I had to yell at my kids a lot today. It isn't my fault though; my husband told me I'm not sweet. This is why marriage is sometimes an impossible situation:
Adam was editing a wedding video last night on his laptop, while we sat in bed. I sat next to him reading. I heard him say, "Oh, she seems like such a sweetheart" so I leaned over to be the judge of that.
"Am I sweet?" (I know, I know. This was my fatal flaw. I was desperate, alright?)
"Well, you're over there saying a complete stranger is a sweetheart. What about me? Do you think that about me too?"
"You're great, honey. I love you."
"Yeah, but am I sweet?"
"Well...I don't know. Sometimes, I guess. You are a lot of things. There are a lot of really great words that describe you, but 'sweet' isn't really one of the words I would use about you."
"So, you lie then?"
"Well, you told me when I made dinner the other night for your brothers that I was really sweet. And you said it was 'so sweet' of me to spend that time with your kids helping them with homework. You even call me 'Sweetie'."
"No, I wasn't lying. That was sweet of you to do those things. And you are my Sweetie. But you're mostly other great things. Not so much sweet."
What??? No sex for you! Come back, one year!
He didn't mean to be hurtful. He didn't even know he was being hurtful until the next day when I told him. I am obsessed with being sweet.
There is a woman in our church who has this saccharin voice, all high-pitched, and what-not, never yells, probably never even gets mad. She has a bazillion kids, homeschools, and doesn't even have a single gray hair. She's just there to uplift, and comfort, and teach with hand-colored, laminated pictures, hold little children on her lap, and smooth the back of her hand across their little cheeks....and make me want to BARF! Excuse me, I mean, she's so sweet.
I constantly hear about 'sweet' women. My husband's ex-wife is so sweet. She may not have been the one, but she is sweet. Can't deny it; I love her to death.
My last boyfriend's ex-wife was so sweet. I wouldn't work out for him. He wanted a sweet woman. I was smart and all, and "almost pretty enough", but just not sweet enough. He decided to hold out for sweeter. (I think he's still waiting.)
Once I told my first husband that a baby was ugly. (It was, sorry.) He got mad at me for not being sweet. "What kind of a woman says that a baby is ugly?" he asked with a look of scorn and utter disgust. "An honest woman," I replied.
I keep trying to be sweet, but I guess it's not working out for me. On days when I really, really focus on being sweet, I end up absolutely exhausted and just wanting to scream at anyone who crosses me. Kind of like how I feel after a long day wearing high-heels: I sure look hot, but all I want is to take them off and go barefoot.
So today, mentally griping about how un-sweet I am, I snapped at my boys to stop laughing. Stop laughing? Yep, pretty much kicks 'sweet' in the butt. I snapped when they woke me up sixteen times from my coveted 30 minute nap. I snapped when they broke the balloon we needed for the science experiment. I snapped when one wanted raisins AND an orange for a snack. Good grief. All I want is to be SWEET, darnit! Stop making it impossible!
I CAN BE SWEET!!! So, SHUT UP!