I didn’t expect to be here.
When I thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up, it was not HouseWife, Farm Dweller, Struggling Entrepreneur.
I was to be a trend-setter, successful, popular, quasi famous. A designer, perhaps some kind of artist (commercially of course, because i had been told that “You can’t make money from Art”) I was to be educated and experienced. pulled together and professional. Dressed for success, so to speak. I couldn’t see any children at all in my future, let alone a husband.
I was so wrong. God had other plans.
“I’m jealous of your life.” my best friend from high school said to me, after 5 or more years of losing touch.
“WHAT?!?” I had been thinking the same about her. She had it all, I thought, an exciting career. She got out of the house every day and spoke to actual adults, face to face. No kids to tie her down, and a husband she was planning on leaving for another man.
But she was unhappy.
I realized that there are days when I want to change things, things about my life I don’t like, things I am discontented with, but I am not un-happy.
And I am surprised by that.
I didn’t particularly have a great time through childhood, and I wondered, still do, if I can overcome my parent’s, my family’s mistakes in my own children. There have been days lately where I realized that my kids are great kids, and they are doing fine.
I wanted to sob with relief.
You’ve heard me complain about the state of my house, the permanent construction zone. It’s messy, disorganized and badly laid out, but you know what? We built this house with our own two hands. Every nail hammered in with love and hope for the future. It looks like a shack, but it’s *MY* shack, paid for with our own blood, sweat, and tears. Nobody can take it away. I have also come to realize that my house is more than that; it’s a home. And wherever we go together as a family, we’re always home with each other.
There are other days when I am at my worst, physically, emotionally, wearing slovenly clothes, like a stained T-shirt I slept in, stretched out bra (if any), wool sock in 16 colours (to use up the yarn ya know), and maybe I’ve worn this charming outfit for two or more days.
That’s usually when Ron walks in the door from wherever he’s been, could be work, could be a quick trip to town, takes one look at me, with THAT look, and says “I love you…” as he gathers me in his arms. I can see in his eyes that he means it, really means it.
On those days, like today, I am blind sided with gratitude. My life didn’t turn out like I wanted, nor expected.
And that’s okay.
Every day so far has been some kind of adventure, and I’m sure there is more to come.