what i remember most was the potted meat sandwiches and vegetable soup suppers…

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately and I’ve ended up seeing the world a little differently…

I’m a self proclaimed work-alcoholic…I struggle with free time – well struggle isn’t the right word…but I don’t know how to enjoy free time because I’ve been so long doing what I’m doing…why one may ask…well to make a good life for myself – simple…simple concept, simple plan, simple answer…I demand a good life…if that means sacrifice of seeing friends, supper dates, hearing the word no more than yes, or snuggle time with my pups – that’s what has to happen…

see I’m an grown woman without kids, I can design my own life…

is it occupational imbalance or am I merely setting the bar high…tough call…I think I’m setting the bar high…or damn it, am I in an unbalanced state – no pretty positive the bar is high…why stress yourself more with another challenge one asked…well to make a good life for myself – simple…simple concept, simple plan, simple answer…

when I sit on my couch at the end of the day exhausted, joints aching, brain fried and eyes burning, I can look around, pet the lil monster pup and breathe a sigh of relief that what I’ve accomplished has gotten me to this couch…

I had a co-worker ask me once, ‘why do you care so much’…hell I often ask myself that question sometimes daily…I have no answer…it’s just me…I think I’ve watched my parents work so hard all their lives for what they provided for our family…I remember the days seeing them get called into work, I remember the picket lines they stood on, fighting for a better life, I remember the night shifts, I remember the tired eyes, I remember the early mornings…and I remember the potted meat sandwiches and vegetable soup suppers…and I thank every day that they did that for us…

I’m learning that no matter the education, no matter the messages, no matter the intent – there is no better method of learning and shaping behaviour than observing, modelling and mirroring…my parents, god love them raised us perfectly…I know I’m biased but I know that from the time I raise my head off the pillow in the morning till the time I lay my head on that same pillow in the evening, that everything in between is to enable me to live the life I want…I know the same about my siblings…I see it in their faces…I see it in their families…I hear it in their voices – we are cut from the same cloth and yah our parents must be proud…but funny enough, by being proud of us, my parents are exuding proudness in themselves…

I often think, when people become parents do they receive a manual of what the hell to do with us…in all the years in our house, we never found it…I think our parents raised us the way they felt was right…a good-hearted family, working their asses off to feed their kids…and with that came the house, the car, the other things that made the house our home…whatever we had, they worked for it…they worked long, hard and damn good…could they write a book – OMG for sure…would it teach others how to do it the same way…no, I don’t think so – like I said you can’t teach others how to live their lives, you can simply show them what worked for you…no guarantees…but a little guidance goes a long way…

a whole lot of love, a whole lot of effort, a little arguing, a whole bunch of tiredness and a hell of struggle to get through some days – that’s my life in a nutshell…

struggling is fine if it’s a small portion of your day, week, month or year…struggling, sacrificing, compromising to get that better life is okay…with that said, don’t forget to live the life you’ve created…that’s the imbalance thing…that’s my a-ha moment this year…my parents found the balance a few years ago…i see them now living the life they’ve created…that’s the goal…i’ve got a few more years to bang out yet, but it’s coming…

I was getting ready for work the other day and was struggling to find a bobby-pin…now I remember buying this package of bobby-pins and thinking ‘now why in the name of jesus do I need 50 bobby-pins sers’ley 50!’ and my ramble went on ‘why can’t they just make a god damn small package, who loses 50 bobby-pins’ – fast forward about a month, the package has a mere 4 left in it…now my first instinct was where in the name of jesus have 46 bobby-pins gone…and then I stared and I had a moment…again with the reflection, what’s happening to me!!

something struck me and call it weird but I envisioned this package of bobby-pins representing something more than an item to hold my hair up and to calm down the fly away strands…the near empty package mimics how I’ve been feeling lately with the people and things that come and go, in and out of ones life…we start off wanting and yearning for friends and materials, the more the merrier…there’s too many to count and then as time goes on and life happens, we begin to lose those that meant so much to us at some point…but that’s okay, there’s still some left and then the package gets smaller and smaller – a few get lost, a few get broken, a few you have no idea where they went, but you have a certain number left…and those few left mean the world to you, cause you need something to calm down your fly away strands…you need something to help with the imbalance…

I’m living this more and more as my world expands, my inner circle changes…my wants and needs are wanting and needing more…I’ve seen this with my parents and they always preached that you need people around you that lift you up…there are too many negative influences in the bigger world to make your inner world unbalanced – finding that balance is key…

my fly away strands needed a lot of calming down these past few years…I actually let a few people in to pass me those bobby pins but I’ve also shut some people out…why do we do this as we get older…my 40’s are teaching me so much about who I am as a person, who I want in my life, who I need in my life and who I’m willing to let be part of my life…experiencing things that you would have never dreamt of is sometimes a rewarding experience…I got some pretty amazing news this year…well really two bits of information that have me over the moon…it’s not a big thing and would mean nothing to most reading this but alas it’s my moon…

like the song says “Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no size two, but I can shake it, shake it like I’m supposed to do, ‘cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase, all the right junk in all the right places”…now I’m not a runner but so far this year, I feel like I won an Olympic gold medal in long distance running…that seems to be a brutal race – I was in that race and jumping jesus I won…now instead of a gold medal, I bought myself a mccain cake – not no size two cause of treats like this!

I met a girl named karma many years ago and that bitch has been hiding in places I can’t find…but karma came out to play recently and she let me win that medal – she was two steps behind me and she let me go over that finish line first…wow, karma – thanks…who taught me about karma – my parents…see the manual again – where is the god damn parent manual…

a whole lot of love, a whole lot of effort, a little arguing, a whole bunch of tiredness, a hell of struggle to get through some days and a little taste of karma – that’s my life in a nutshell…

oh and it wasn’t about the potted meat sandwiches and vegetable soup that made a difference in my life, it was the fact that we sat at the dinner table – the five of us eating the potted meat sandwiches and drinking the vegetable soup as the world stood still for that hour, we always shared stories of the day and dreams of tomorrow…that’s my life in a nutshell…oh the days and the sandwiches we shared – that’s what makes me, me…still dreaming of the tomorrows…

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2 thoughts on “what i remember most was the potted meat sandwiches and vegetable soup suppers…

  1. all we ever thought during those suppers was these three amazing children will excel and surpass us in their lives and now in our 45 years together we are proud to get to see they have proven us right we love you all mucho dad

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  2. Love this blog. This reminds me so much of growing up in my house. My parents must have subscribed to the same parenting magazine. It really was the small consistent things in our childhood that grounded us. The predictability of knowing mom would be at the door after school and remind me to actually hang up my jacket and not put it on a chair. My dad falling asleep with the remote control gripped tightly in his bear paws stuck on the news channel. Oh the good ol’ days.

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