I have a long distance friend who keeps up with my blogs and personal Facebook page. Every so often we chat via messenger on the overnight. I had that pleasure a few nights ago. After catching up on life's happenings, I told her about the event we're doing in May and how much work I needed to get done in a short period of time, our upcoming big paint project, DIY Dog Mom Projects I wanted to get done in the near future, and other stuff.
"Do you ever take a break? For as long as I've known you, all you do is work, work, work. I get tired just reading and listening to all the stuff you're doing and how busy you are. And, it sounds like Lisa isn't much different."
This has always been a standing joke between us. The amount of hours I work, how little sleep I get, the amount of caffeine I consume, the projects I've got lined up and our crazy Dog Mom life and everything between.
My friend says I'm workaholic. She's never known me to be otherwise. It's my nature. My work ethic. It's in my blood. Being a workaholic doesn't just apply to paid jobs. It's my every-single-day.
Lisa is the same way. She works outside of the home. It doesn't matter how tired she is or if she's sick, she gets up and goes to work. Her workday doesn't end when she gets home. If there's stuff that needs to be done, which there always is, she does it. The same holds true for the weekends.
That's how we were raised.
Back in the day, and yes we're both old enough to say that, things were different. As teenagers, we didn't have a lot of down time. We weren't allowed to sit around the house doing nothing. If we did that for too long, our parents were more than happy to load us with extra chores.
Speaking of chores, that happened daily. Weekends included. The housework, yard work, projects around the house, and whatever else came up, didn't fall entirely on our parents. We had to help.
We didn't get paid to do those chores. The work we did inside or outside of the house was part of our responsibilities and our contribution to the family and household.
If we wanted extra stuff beyond what our parents provided us with, we had to buy it. When we were too young to be employed, we searched high and low for side jobs. Babysitting. Mowing a neighbor's lawn. Cleaning a basement or attic. Hauling brush or boxes. Yard work.
We both started working at the age of 15. During the summer months we worked full time and while in school we worked on the weekends. We walked to work or rode our bikes.
Nothing was handed to us. When our parents took us out for ice cream or to a lake for the day to swim, it was a treat. Neither one of us went on week long vacations to Disney or Myrtle Beach.
On my end, even vacations were work. In my very early teens, my parents bought a piece of land up in Pittsburg, New Hampshire. It was 3 1/2 miles into the woods. For a couple of summers, long weekends and week long vacations were spent clearing land.
That's not to say we didn't have fun. We did. The both of us have many fond memories of spending time outside creating our own adventures, at the camps of our grandparents, scenic rides, picnic lunches, and trips up north.
All of the above set the stage for who we are now. We work hard for what we have. We take care of the things we own. We pride ourselves on the work we do, our home, our family, and our daily life.
It's not easy being Dog Moms to 4 furry kids. The housework is never ending. There's always something going on. There's work, baking biscuits, writing blog columns, Bodacious Biscuit Love, DIY Dog Mom Projects, emails, desk work, laundry, etc.
And, just when I think I'm at the tail end of completing housework, the kids have taken most of their chew bones out of their toy boxes.
Five minutes after I sit down to take a break, Lobo wants to get up on the bed or sofa or Coco needs to go out.
Most of the time, I'm working on a few things at the same time.
Multitasking.
We don't get days off. Ever.
I can't remember the last time Lisa and I sat down, in the evening for family snuggle time and a bit o' Netflix and made it an entire hour without needing to get up for this or that.
It's just what we do.
Our grandparents did it. Our parents did it. We do it.
No one else is going to pay our bills, take care of our kids, clean our home, bake biscuits for us, etc.
It's all up to us.
It has to get done regardless if we're sore, tired, sick, under the weather, or worn out.
Workaholics?
Old fashioned?
Being raised in the 70's and 80's?
How our parents raised us?
Sure. It's a melting pot of foundations.
We're kinda proud of that.
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