My Feet Ache

Feeding six people is a lot of work. There's prep and cooking and clean up. I honestly don't know how people with large families do it. I'm sure there's a routine to it that I can't develop in a week. 

I'm not complaining. It's a wonderful kind of aching feet. I wouldn't trade this time for anything. 

It's easy to see the true character of a group of people when you are feeding them. 

Sad to admit, but I'm not overly proud of the manners of my family. 

I'm not complaining, but making observations. 

My husband has been absolutely perfect during this week. He's done dishes and taken care of laundry when I just needed to sit. 

My nephew is a typical teenage boy. He's not very engaged in what's going on around him. However, anytime I've asked, he's jumped right in and helped. He's taken care of most of the trash. 

Now let me share my observations. 

As a general rule, there hasn't been much help beyond that. Dishes are left on the table or cabinets. Nobody has offered to help with meal prep. There has not been one thank you. 

It's easy to see how our childhood has infiltrated this family and it makes me sad. 

Even when we go out for meals, there's no appreciation. Everyone orders with a "Give me your..." and there's not one thank you muttered. 

That's hard for me and I have bit my tongue a lot. 

Again, I'm not complaining. It's an observation of my parents influence on this group of people. 

I'm not at elevating my status above anyone. However, I do see the good and positive influence in my life and how I have changed since initially moving away from them. 

It does make me understand why my parents thought I acted like I was better than everyone else. It wasn't because I did, but because I acted different than them. I became more like my husband than them. 

How crazy is it that I see growth in myself during meal times when my feet are aching and my back hurts. 

I know by Saturday night, I'm going to miss these meal times. I'm going to miss the tired feet and crazy schedule.