Thursday, January 16, 2014
I was talking with the owner and mentioned that if Tim and I could work our way back up to six figures a year I'd be satisfied. He shook his head and said no we wouldn't. If we made more money, we'd just spend more money. I tend to think he's right but would love the opportunity for him to prove me wrong.
Here's the real deal. I'm well over halfway through my life, probably way over half if the Leach genes kick in. My brother always makes the comment "Us Leach's take the express checkout." Sometimes that can be a good thing, just depending on the circumstances. My momma died suddenly from an aneurysm. Had she lived, would most probably have never recovered and would never have been the same ole Momma. My Diddy lived to be seventy seven, healthy (and stubborn) as an ox until the last ten days of his life. A stinking mosquito with West Nile took him out pretty quickly. I now consider myself a lucky kid. I lost both my parents early and thought it was so unfair at the time until I have grown into my fifties and witnessed so many friends dealing with their parent's declining health, dementia, Alzhiemers, Cancer, nursing homes and hospice. Not that I wouldn't have done the same thing for my own. Mine simply saved me from the grief of witnessing them decline slowly. My parents went out with a bang. Momma died in under one minute, we were out shopping. Diddy thought he had just caught a bug but by the time we got him to the hospital, was beyond knowing what was happening. (A good thing when you're seventy seven and contract West Nile)
So how in the world can I complain about our current situation? I simply can't.
What I can complain about is being a fifty three year old woman. My hair is going gray, so what? I just keep it short. It's this whole menopause thing that gets me. You would think after carrying kids in your belly, getting fat and swollen, then squirting them out a small hole you would have a free pass for life.
Tim always worked long hours so it was me, who carted the kids to and from daycare, then to and from school. It was me who finished their projects at midnight when they forgot to tell me something was due at school the next day. It was me who worked the Fall Festivals and it was me who video taped chorus concerts and award ceremonies. It was me who took a job as a lunch lady when they redistricted the kids for school.
Poor Tim probably wishes he had been able to be a stay at home dad. Instead he got to listen to me complain.
We finally got our last kid off to college this year so now he gets to listen to me complain about me. Nothing is good. I got a bum shoulder on one side, a bum knee on the other. I have carpal tunnel and way too much gray hair. My body has no happy medium when it comes to my internal thermostat. I sweat like a wrestler when I am sleeping, then five minutes later I'm freezing. I'm too skinny and he's too fat. I have to shave my face sometimes. It's disgusting being a menopausal women yet there are so many people to blame and blame them I do! Poor Tim.
How stupid am I that until last night I didn't know he was quoting W.C. Fields? I finally asked him where he got that from and he just shook his head, walked off and said it again.
We started out together poor in our late twenties. We raised three kids and reached an easy lifestyle. We fell from grace and hit rock bottom. We weathered the storm with help from God and tons of others.
We're back to where we started, poor but happy.
Boy can I think of a lot worse scenarios. I have a husband who is out of work but does any odd job he can to help us get through. He comes home every night. He spends hours on the computer every day looking for work and listens to me grip.
I have a brother, sister and brother in law who help us out continuously. I have two bosses who help me out any time I ask and often do. I went into work today to buy some heavy duty trash bags for cleaning out the garage. If I put my flimsy bags out on the street, coyotes and dogs rip them apart by morning. I was leaving out the back door when the bosses' wife walked in. I call her Margaret Drysdale when I need some help. (the banker's wife)
I asked Margaret if she could help me out and immediately she said "Certainly." I left with a hundred bucks in my back pocket to help pay our car repair bill and five heavy duty bags to clean out our disgusting garage.
Thanks to Margaret we're closer to getting a car back and can still pay the power bill. Thanks to my brother in law, the car they loaned us is running again and can quit bumming rides home from the peeps at work.
Here's my question? Is your glass half empty or half full?
Our cup runneth over and sometimes simply need to remind myself of that.
I was fretting about having today off, I feel if I'm not working I'm not doing my part.
The great thing about my life is everybody is doing their part to help us. I'm the luckiest girl on the planet.
I got so much done around the house today and even threw together dinner.
If you live right and try your best, good things will happen. Trust me, my life is a testament to this theory.
Now if someone could only help me with the night sweats, sporadic facial hair, skin tags and corns on my pinkie toes.
I wouldn't trade my life for anything in the world. You live, you learn. You help others and others will help you. You keep your wedding vows. For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part.
Nobody ever said life would be easy. If it were could you really appreciate it to its fullest?
The dryer just buzzed, the last load is done. The house is clean and I'm counting my blessings. Think I may need a calculator.
Til next time... the kid that won't go away from bothering Tim!