When people think of hard work each person has a different idea of what that is.
Hard work can be hard physical labour. Mentally taxing work can be considered hard work. Repetitive. Risky. Emotional. All different perceptions of what hard work is. What is “hard” to one person won’t be to the next. And most definitely each person will value things on different levels. Perhaps we would all be so lucky to ‘walk a mile’ in someone else’s shoes. Then maybe we would appreciate our own miles. Don’t they say to throw your problems in a pile with everyone else’s and you would likely take yours back. Fast.
You know what else is hard work? Adult-ing. Wife-ing. Mom-ing. Boss-ing. All of the above individually and simultaneously. Whatever combination you exist in…it’s hard work.
I really don’t think any of them need an explanation. We all know it. We all get it. But f….
I mean, adult-ing. Bills, taxes, jobs…maturity. Why does being a certain age mean I have to act a certain way. Why can’t I throw a tantrum when they are out of my favourite cereal. Why can’t I just cry when I don’t get to drink anything I want at any time of day. Wine. All the wine. Why do I have to wait for an “acceptable time”?
Being bossy may seem like something you want when you are a kid. But let me tell you. Boss-ing actually isn’t especially fun most of the time. Babysitting, er, I mean being a boss….ok, let’s come back to this another day. Although sometimes I feel like all I do all day every day for all the days of the year is boss people around. Put on your shoes. Pull up your pants. Don’t eat that. Sit down. Oh wait, that makes me a mom. That shit isn’t just a walk in the park. Actually. I’m wrong. It’s a total walk in the park. Jurassic Park. There’s no break from that stuff. And even when you are “taking a break”, are you really?! I know I typically don’t. That Mom business never really ever leaves your head ever. It doesn’t leave when you go for a run. It doesn’t leave when you are working. It doesn’t leave on your girls night out. It doesn’t leave when you are going to the bathroom. And if you have a secret to going in privacy, please…share below.
And wife-ing. Ugh. Should I even go there. ‘Cuz ya know, lately it seems that might be the hardest job of them all. In this house, winter is always a transition. A re-learning of sorts. My husband works is tail off for 70% of the year and then “just works” the remainder. So the just working period, while nice, is also different. We have to coexist and coparent differently than the majority of the year. Not a bad thing. Just a different thing. Okay, let me clarify. For most of the year he often is gone before the kids are out of bed. I usually try to get up and at least say hi to him before he’s gone. But sometimes plans don’t work out. I have a hard time sleeping anyways. Add kids and husbands into the mix and it just got a whole lot harder. Wait, not husbands. I only have one. So some mornings I have literally just gone to sleep…not getting up for a coffee-lacking good morning (Give me all the coffee!). I digress. He then isn’t home til way past dark aka bedtime. Now let’s be clear, I am not complaining. It has its struggles. Like any career in any family. I will be the first to (try to) point out all the amazing things that being a farmers wife offers the marriage. That doesn’t mean it’s always easy. I am also not a good farmers wife. I focus as much, or more, on my own business as I do on his business and helping him have success. I then also focus on myself and my health and happiness (or sanity), my children, my friends, my volunteering, our home, my family (I talk to my extended family every day. Hellooooooo Snapchat streaks), among other things. When does that leave time for the marriage. For being a wife. And I’m not talking doing everything for him, “fix his plate” kinda wife. That doesn’t fit in my life. But I do want to be a wife. It’s hard.
Thats hard work. Marriage. It’s hard. And glorious. And hard.