News flash, right? There really are no laugh-tracks when having an argument with your spouse. It doesn't matter how funny or witty of a comeback you think you bring to the fight, the episode isn't over in 30 minutes or an hour with a whole week to forget about the heat of the moment and come back with a cooler head. Life doesn't happen in episodes. The hard part, at least for me, is remembering not to give into the temptation to fight like I'm living in a sit-com.
And, sadly, last night was not a win for me. E is a really good man. We've worked hard in our imperfect marriage to communicate better and do a better job of showing each other respect. And I confess I sometimes don't do a great job of the latter. Well, both, honestly, but the latter probably more so. E has recently run into an issue that, should he consume caffeine in the afternoon or evening, he has very disrupted sleep that night. And by that I mean nightmares, thrashing about and kicking in his sleep and sometimes waking up screaming. (He's not even a veteran so war-time PTSD is out!) Obviously, I feel for the person who has to deal with this issue. It's not good to have one's sleep disturbed and I don't want him having to deal with such nighttime terrors. But I'm not a fan of getting caught in the crossfire of his thrashing about, which has happened a few times.
Well, last night, E drank a large glass of iced tea with dinner. And, true to form, around 1 am, he started kicking violently in his sleep. It's not like he touched me at all, but it was enough to wake me up with a start. I nudged him until he woke up enough to hopefully reset the dream. Another key detail in this situation is that when I am pregnant, as I am now, I am NOT a heavy sleeper. Every other time in my life, I can sleep like the dead. Not so when I'm with child. By about 2 am, I had still not been able to fall asleep again, though my husband was next to me, snoring away. I was ticked. I was livid. I felt like my sleeplessness was something he did to me. And as I lay in bed stewing in my anger, I started plotting how I would get his attention when I reached the 1-hour mark of sleeplessness. I completely realize how all this stewing and fuming only kept me more awake, but there is nothing like "righteous indignation" in the middle of the night to fuel one's fire. I was almost looking forward to the 1-hour mark.
Well, when that mark hit, I sprang into action. I closed the bedroom door and turned on the overhead light. As my husband came to, I stood beside the bed in my best scolding posture and proceeded to read him the riot act. I told him how I had been awake for an hour and that he needed to understand just how selfish he had been in choosing to drink caffeine at a time when he knew the likely result. I scolded him for not thinking about my sleep needs and how his selfishness had to end. Has he lay there quasi-shielding his eyes from the light, he looked at me and calmly said, "You're right. I didn't think about that. I'm sorry."
In countless fights and arguments before, E has often defended his choices. And I have asked him to please be willing to humbly admit when he might have done something wrong. And last night he gave me exactly what I had asked for, he calmly admitted to what he had done and apologized. I said thank you, turned off the light, and returned to bed keeping my back to him.
I expected to feel vindicated. I had anticipated hearing the sit-com laugh-track in my head as I returned to bed. I expected to feel like I had won. After all, I had put my husband in his place. And on top of that, he remembered not to fight me on it. Bonus! But I didn't feel vindicated, or witty, or like a winner. I felt cheap. And as I thought more about it, I realized that what I had done was not patient, or kind, or gentle; it was not love. E works hard to provide for our family and needs his sleep just as much as I do. His nightmares were obviously making good sleep hard to come by last night and I didn't exactly do him any favors. At best, I made it worse and had actually plotted to do so. I had intended to bring a sort of injury to my husband. I was ashamed. I knew I had been right to be upset over his choice of beverage, but this is not how I was supposed to turn the other cheek. This was not how I was supposed to return injury with kindness, something about which I had spent a lot of time chiding my husband. And I could have clearly expressed my thoughts in the daylight hours of the morning allowing him to get some decent sleep. I did not return to sleep for a while. Clear consciences make for much softer pillows. When our daughter woke up at the ungodly hour of 5 am, E kindly went and took care of calming her down as best as he could. (Free will in a 1 yr old is a pesky little thing!)
This morning, I apologized to my husband several times for my lashing out. And he kindly accepted my apologies and even offered that he understood my reaction. He showed me real kindness when I had obviously not shown him the same kindness. In fact, he was more quick to accept my apology than I had been to accept his earlier this morning. This was a real serving of humble pie for someone who has taken it upon herself to lecture her husband on being more quick to accept fault within himself and forgive other's transgressions. It was a real gift of grace, not only to be shown forgiveness from my husband, but to recognize the gi-freaking-gantic beam that had been lodged in my own eye.
So, while my list of sins to take to confession grows ever-longer, I hope I will hold onto this lesson.