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?