Today I was temperamental.
If you look this word up in your trusted dictionary, you’ll find that it means moody, mercurial, erratic, unpredictable, and even peculiar. I like to think that I’ve mastered my own moods after all this time and effort, but really, I’m just terrible. I’ve been known to pout if my schedule changes, if I’m too cold, or if I don’t get my way. You should see me in airports. You should see me when I’m tired. You should see me when I’m hungry. Goodness.
My husband gets the worst of it. He turns to me after one particularly mercurial situation in which I fumed over not getting my way, and he calmly says:
“Well, this hasn’t been your finest moment.”
I tell him that I’m honestly trying to be spirit-filled and full of joy like everyone else around me. I tell him that I’m just too sensitive and not like other people who can withstand all manner of discomforts. I wish I were stronger, but today was not my finest moment.
He doesn’t seem so bothered by it all. He’s moved on to blessing me by doing the dishes and folding some laundry. This is really happening right now on the very eve of my terrible pouting.
Sometimes, all you have to offer the world is your own broken down self, full of pouting and demands. It’s the honest you, and you find you are still loved.
So if today was not your finest moment, you weren’t alone. And we still love you.