Quaint

I've experienced a facial (and sometimes verbal) expression quite a few times when I describe my life and family.
It's what I've decided to describe as "Isn't that just quaint?"

I have pretty traditional marriage. I took his name. I get up in the mornings and make his lunch. He is often the decision maker, with my input of course.

Our family is close, physically and emotionally. If you get one of us, you get all of us. Like it or not.

Having grown up in a dysfunctional home, the transition into this family was not an easy one. Poor Kevin did more than his fair share of diplomacy. As he got to know my family, especially in the past few years, he totally gets it now. I think he's a little surprised at how functional I actually am .

As I watch my father-in-law care for all of our yards while we are at work, my brother-in-law dropping whatever he is doing to help Kevin, and my mother-in-law making dinner on just the night that I need her to time & again, I realize that my life is how it should be. I won't complain any more. (it's a lofty goal, let me try. hahahaa)

Years ago, families stayed together. Many generations all lived under one roof. While I would have to be heavily medicated or dead to withstand that, I can see where there was great comfort in it.

The truck broke down over the weekend. Last night, after everyone has worked a ten hour day, three men are out there working on getting my truck running again. Why would anyone judge that?

Surely, I often imagining myself swinging my arms helicopter style and silently screaming "PERSONAL SPACE!! PERSONAL SPACE!!!" I have had more than my fair share of "You Did NOT Just tell them That!" moments. I've had to breathe deeply multiple times before saying "Yes, this is too the restaurant where you like the salisbury steak"

But as I saw my in-law family stand in solidarity with my bio family at my dad's memorial, I knew that the balance had shifted.

My life is not quaint. It is my life. And there are many people in it, like it or not.