I recently said to a friend, after getting the low-down on some bad news she received and us both lamenting on how awful 2019 has been to many of us, “I know a year could be much worse, but I can’t imagine living through it. 2020 has to be better. It has to be.”
I realized I absolutely can’t start 2020 with that kind of mentality. Thinking “it can’t possibly be any worse.” Is certainly a recipe for disaster. Of course, there were shiny spots in the year and as I reflect, I need to be more grateful for those.
We’ve been teaching the CEO a lot about gratitude, as 4 yr old CEO’s sometimes don’t see the whole picture. But sometimes, 40 yr old’s with bloodshot eyes, don’t either. It’s time to pull back the grey clouds hanging over southern middle Tennessee and give thanks for 2019. After all, this year gave me an actual angel watching over me. How many people can say that?
What I’m thankful for in 2019:
I am thankful that most of the people that see me back a stock trailer or our meat wagon know that it could be worse. They also know that I’ve gotten a lot better in the last year. I finally learned to use my mirrors, dad. Get off my case.
I’m thankful for my hair stylist. She only minimally makes fun of me for coming in eight months after my last highlight.
I’m thankful for people that don’t make fun of my 8-month old highlights.
I’m thankful for my children’s teachers. If I was expected to home school my children, I would be in the Pen. And when my parole would come up, I’d ask if my children were still school age. And when they say yes, I’d say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll stay here. I look good in orange.” You have the patience of Job. I have the patience of, well, a child. You will never be paid enough.
I’m thankful for a husband that doesn’t rub my nose in my shortcomings. I told him, in the sweetest wife tone of course, he could do a load of laundry every once in a while. He decides to wash my brand new, very very dark blue pair of jeans in hot water with his pig poop-stained pants. And I jumped his ass. The poor kid can’t win. (Although, now that I think about it, maybe he did it on purpose, because he knew I’d jump his ass and not let him do any more laundry. I’ll investigate and get back to you.)
I’m thankful for our customers. Who knew there would be such a demand for local meat? You make it easy to get out of bed every day. Wait, I think I’m supposed to say my kids are the reason it’s easy for me to get out of bed every day. Technically, their throw-up noises are what get me out of bed. But that’s out of sheer fear, not because I love them. I love you, customers. And you don’t make throw up noises.
I’m thankful that our neighbors have a good sense of humor when they see a pig (or 10) in the road. I think most of them slow down enough to open their car doors and scratch them behind the ear or throw them their morning donut. And I swear when we get the pigs back in, they’re mad at us for taking them from their human friends. We’re boring parents. We don’t throw them donuts.
I’m thankful there are still meat eaters in this world. I’m thankful the Impossible Burger has more chemical ingredients in it than on Donald Trump’s “sun-kissed” face. I used to pick on customers that liked their meat “well-done”. I don’t anymore. I’m just thankful they still eat meat. No matter how burnt it is.
I’m thankful for the appliances that DIDN’T breakdown this year. In my old man voice, “They just don’t make things like they used to.” Including; furnace, microwave, water heater, dishwasher and dryer. But at least the fridge didn’t breakdown. And that thing runs 24/7. Go figure.
I’m thankful for daylight standard time, as it allows the Pilaroc team to have more dinners together. Except that means that I have to actually make dinner. Which means I have to buy groceries. Which I forget about. Maybe I’m not grateful for standard time. Oh, wait. I do get to sit on the couch with the Herdsman and drink wine more (I drink wine, he falls asleep sitting up with his mouth open). So yes. I do like standard time.
I’m thankful for my kids. They’ve all really grown up this year. In school and on the farm. And they might even turn into society-contributing adults someday. I’m not holding my breath, but it could possibly happen.
I’m thankful our butchers don’t fire us. We’re demanding. And although they are sweet to my face, I know when they get to our beef, lambs or pigs, they’re saying to themselves, “I shoulda called in sick today.” We ask a lot of them and they never bat an eye. Thanks, butchers.
I am thankful for wine. I’ve always liked wine but since my recent trip to wine country, I’m, like, really sophisticated now (said in my best Cali-girl accent). I’m glad that I’m an adult and can drink as I please.
I am thankful for our fat, lazy Basset hound. He reminds me to slow life down and to not care about my weight. Or where I use the bathroom.
You know those people that just lift you up. Always with the right words or inspiration at the exact right time to get you through the day? That’s not me.
I’m not a motivational quote spewer. I absolutely have no idea how to give pep talks. Kind words don’t flow from my potty mouth. I don’t wear shirts that say, “Dream. Believe. Achieve.” I wear shirts that say, “It is what it is”, “Needs More Coffee” and “Pees in Pools”.
Being uplifting, grateful and kind are not in my wheelhouse. Wasn’t bred into me. But I want my daughter to be like that. I want more sunny, cloud-free days for her…and me. I want the glass half full for her instead of the more realistic, “just drink the damn water”.
So, for 2020, that’s what I’m pushing for. To be more positive. Inspirational. And cheery. Less realistic. More dreamy. And absolutely more grateful. I have an awesome life: I see my kids more than I could ever imagine. My husband is semi-great. And I get to play with meat and animals all day. What do I have to complain about? One year of positivity. I’ll try it for a year and report back on the benefits.
And if my kids end up becoming the next Jeffrey Dahmer, then maybe I’ll get a shirt that says “Proud Mom of Serial Killers” just to show how much I support them. “Dream. Believe. Achieve.”, kids. Anything is possible.
