Opposites Attract

Thank you, Paula Abdul, for giving us the iconic song and the reminder, with the so-cool-at-the-time animated cat, that opposites attract (I bet you are singing that song in your head now—and if you’re not, then you’re probably much younger than I am and it’s worth googling). And just like Paula Abdul and the cartoon cat, my husband and I are in some ways total opposites!

Some of the ways are cute…like he was a science teacher and I was an English teacher. He keeps up on current events and I watch movies or have my nose stuck in a book (this could not be any truer right now). He focuses on tiny little details and I see the big picture. He can recall dates, times, places, and people and I can tell you how something made me feel and not remember one single other detail!

Other ways, well, aren’t so cute.

Like the day I sat in the car with three sweaty rowdy kids in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

It was the day before Easter (look at that, I remembered a detail!). The weekend before I was in bed most of the time with a migraine, which left hubby and the kids to entertain themselves. Then Monday rolled around and it was fast and furious all week long. By Friday, we were hitting the road to travel two hours away for a last minute unexpected work trip that had come up. On Saturday we spent the entire day wrangling and wrestling the kids during an outdoor high school sporting event. We were excited to go, but it was a long day there and a long drive to get home. Not to mention we had to be back home in time to get ready to attend a community event that Saturday night.

But first, Wal-Mart. 

When we left our out-of-town destination to come back home, by my calculations, we would have just enough time to make it home and regroup before the babysitter arrived and we would have to leave again. Just enough time to decompress. Just enough time to regain my sanity. When we were about 20 minutes away from home, my husband pulled the car into nearest Wal-Mart. He told me two things: 1) he needs to run in real quick and 2) it would be easier if I wait in the car with the kids. The kids. Three of them. At the time they were age seven and under. And we had already been gone the whole day. And they were hot, and sweaty, and tired, and irritated, and ready to be out of the car. And frankly, so was I. 

But I waited. 

I waited for about 20 minutes before I was really irritated. By this point I was chewing at the insides of my cheeks, eyebrows narrowed, eyes straight ahead. I was hardly answering the kids anymore at their whining of “how much longer?” All I could think was “why?” Why a trip to Wall-Mart? Why now? What could be so important? How could someone be so selfish they leave the entire family in the car for this long? Couldn’t we just run this errand tomorrow? Or on Monday? What’s the deal? Why put off something until today? He had all last weekend when I was down with the migraine.

Then I waited some more.

And not so patiently. By this point, I was just mad. And there was no more whining from the kids as they were all on talking probation so no one was allowed to talk. 

Finally, he emerged from the store, quickly stashed something in the back of the vehicle, and apologized for taking so long. I really don’t know what else was said on the way home because I was in a bad mood. The kids were in a bad mood, too, because I had been…well, not so fun to be around. And I pretty much stayed in a bad mood that entire night…even after I got ready for our next event, even after the babysitter arrived, even by the time I went to bed that night. 

The next day was Easter. I remember this because of the gift my husband and kids gave to me that day. Underneath the elaborate bow, underneath the carefully chosen wrapping paper, there was their gift to me. I watched their faces of anticipation as I made my way through the tissue paper to unravel what they had worked so hard to put together. 

And there it was. A framed photograph of the kids printed in black and white. A photograph my husband had taken the weekend before when he put them in their nicest clothes and dresses, fixed their hair, drove them to a nearby park, and took their picture. A photograph that sat on a disk all the next hectic commitment-filled week until he could take it to be printed. A photograph he patiently waited in line to get even when he was hot and sweaty and tired and had another commitment that evening.

As I kissed his face, as the kids each hugged my neck, as I could feel small tears roll down my warm pink cheeks, there sitting at his feet, was the gift I had prepared for him. A new beach towel I had picked up when I was out getting things for the kids, rolled up, placed in his otherwise empty easter basket.

Opposites attract, but sometimes not in very cute ways. 

Now I realize, I am not often the antagonist of my own story, but I have learned in life and especially in marriage, I am not always the good guy. I would also like to tell you that my heart softened so much that day that I was never irritated again by our differences. But that would not be telling the whole truth. 

A few weeks ago, as we were planning our summer vacation, I found myself biting the insides of my cheeks, eye brows narrowed, eyes looking straight ahead. We needed to put pen to paper and nail down our summer travel plans. My husband suggested we sketch a map and indicate how many hours lie in between each destination so we could figure out stops and drive time. I thought, that’s a great idea. I literally took out a pen and paper while he methodically laid out various colors of sharpies and some chart paper. Two hours later (I’m not exaggerating), he had his map sketched across TWO pieces of chart paper and it was color coded. And he had the nerve to interrupt the movie I was watching to show me!

The truth is, opposites might attract but that is not what keeps us together. I have to work to understand, I have to work to be patient, I have to work to see things differently. I have to be patient when I am waiting, I have to be understanding when I don’t see things the same way, and I have to be willing to do things in ways I wouldn’t typically do them. I have to remember I was first attracted to the man that plans special gifts with elaborate wrapping, but I fell in love with the man that makes me wait in the car so he can pull it all off.

I’m not going to lie, there are still sometimes I think, why do we have to be so different? Times when we are going over our finances, times when we are discipling the kids, heck, even times when we are trying to figure out what’s for dinner. There are times I wonder, why can’t he just do things the way I would do them?

The truth is, I don’t think that’s the way marriage is intended to be. And honestly, I don’t think any family needs that many beach towels!