Tuesday, July 30, 2013

On Being Stubborn, And Angry

Last night, I came home from the gym with intentions of making a smoothie.
It was going to be kale, spinach, a peach, a couple of strawberries, a banana, and a touch of orange juice.

But, it never happened.
Because the smoke detector chirped.

Michael said something to the effect, "Oh, I need to call your dad to come change that battery."

I put the kale back in the fridge.
I thought, "What? You think I can't change a battery?"

I get the step ladder out of the garage.
I manage to get the old battery out.
I put a new one in.
I heard chirping.
I tried to open the smoke detector back up, thinking maybe I put the battery in backwards, because I wasn't tall enough to actually see what I was doing.
It won't open.
I punched it.
It started hanging by a cord.
I smashed it into the ceiling.
It fell.
I picked it up and threw it across the laundry room.
It chirped.
I forced it open, turned the battery around, and put it back on the ceiling, thinking I had won.
It chirped.

At this point, I was so angry, out of time, and I had to abandon the mission and get ready for work.
I was FULL OF RAGE I'm telling you!
I had to turn on the praise music for my shower, because I seriously wanted to break some glass or punch something.

Why do I do this?
Why must I be so stubborn?
Why do I hate to ask for help, or directions, or admit that I don't know how to do every and anything?
I'm such a MAN.

This morning, when I got home from work, it chirped.
That stupid smoke detector beat me.

What I hate the most?
Michael was right.
We do need to call my Dad.

I'm thankful we live in the same city, and my Dad is cool with being perpetually on call for house fixing type things, and I pay him in whole bean coffee. But still, I do hate it. I hate asking for help. I hate needing help.

This is the number one thing I think I would struggle with, if the roles were reversed, and I was the paralyzed one.

I'm so hard headed. I would probably end up on the floor every day, trying to do something my own stubborn way, instead of the smart way - just asking someone else to help me for a second.

Now... my Michael has his moments...
Like last week, when he volunteered to feed the cat.
Brokaw came to the rescue, though - happily abandoning his stuffed elephant.

Where Michael is a million times better than me is... he RARELY loses his cool. There are so many ways I wish he would hurry up and rub off on me!

Chirping smoke detectors, cat food all over the floor... yeah, we're a real inspiration over here! Haha.

7 comments:

a898de1a-f979-11e2-b3b7-000bcdcb8a73 said...

When did you get a cat? Or is it that Brokaw steals all the thunder? :)

Dana Brown Ritter said...

The cat is 13 years old! Brokaw definitely steals all the thunder, for sure!!! I call Katie our secret cat because she is stealth.

Cheri said...

I think our husbands have learned patience and we are still learning. I get very frustrated and yes, I hate to ask for help also. I wish my dad was still alive to help me. Count your blessings!

Melissa Wood said...

I love your blog. Didn't it feel good writing that?! I know it did! Love it. Thank you for taking the time to share with us.

Kristen said...

So I have this theory that each of us is born with a certain personality trait/*ahem* sin (if we're talkin straight here) that we struggle with the most. Mine, without a doubt, is fear. I'm a major, weirdo scardey cat who worries to the point of making herself her sick sometimes, and I have struggled with that since I was a little girl. As you probably know too, being in the Word is the only thing that seems to calm the crazy down.
Anyway. You know what's funny? I have a feeling my little girl is going to struggle in the same way you do. Already, she HATES to ask for help or look like she doesn't know how to do something. She gets jealous so easily (AND SHE'S 5!), and will StRuGgle when she has to be corrected. And yet, she's fearless about many of the things that scared me to death at her age! I may need help from people like you as she gets older-- Sheesh!
Yet, if she turns out half as self-aware and kind as you are, Dana, she'll be just fine. Stubbornness and all. :)

Debi @ DebiStangeland.com said...

This is totally awesome. Just to let you know how much I relate we have a joke in our house about throwing the cheese. That would be a giant 2lbs. block of cheese. Guess who has her moments too? Thanks for making me feel not so weird and alone. Rock on sister!

mella's messages said...

I'm sorry, Dana. I hope you are able to laugh about this now, cause it made me laugh. I know exactly what you mean. Why is it so hard to ask for help and to feel like we can be the mocho-super-hero-women who can do our husband's jobs and our's and still keep sanity? Oh man, now I have pregnancy hormones on top of it :) It's wonderful though. I don't regret those one bit. Why also do we not like to take our husband's wise advice? Especially when I am in a "mood" I hate to take someone else's word on something. I have to figure it out myself...usually to my own failure, and a "you were right, honey" in the end. God's grace is so amazing, and I am so grateful He doesn't give up on me, and just loves me the way I am - though is still working on me.