"With all your faults, I love you still..."

I am messy.

I tend to talk very loudly.

I don't pluck my eyebrows enough.

I have a potty mouth.

I get terrible road rage.
 (not get-out-a-gun-type rage, but enough that one of the girls I used to watch totally dimed me out by saying "Brie calls the other drivers retards". I was duly ashamed.)

I always forget to bring my water glass from the night before to the sink before I bring put a fresh glass on my nightstand before bed, and allow a collection to develop.

I am exceedingly overprotective of my son.

I am not always a good wife/mother/friend/sister/daughter.

I am addicted to my iTouch.

I am a horrible housekeeper.

I let my car get down to fumes before I get gas.

I would sometimes rather read a book then talk to people.

I have a thousand other flaws, too many to list on a blog.

Still, despite all of that...

I am married to a wonderful, patient, kind and hard-working man.

My son is sweet, happy, healthy and content. He wants for nothing and is loved by everybody.

I have a family- the type of family that I could call upon any member at any given time and they would be there in a flash, ready to engulf me in love.

I am surrounded by the most amazing group of friends, who warm my heart every day with their support and companionship.  

I have a place to lay my head, to call home, where my sweet little family goes to sleep together every night.

Despite all that is "wrong" with me, I have all of this. So, maybe there's not so many things wrong with me, as there are reasons to be loved that far surpass our flaws.

Aren't we lucky?