I am job hunting again. I quit my care giving job because I have moved to The House of Bedrooms in the country and it is too far for me to go. I applied at a few local places for part time work, as my ‘real job’ doesn’t require me to work every day away from the house. I want to get out of the house and be around people, so applied to a local fast food restaurant. #5 is appalled. He may be embarrassed. I don’t know. He is 18 and does not communicate well at times with His Mother.
I was called in for an interview and of course am hired, just waiting on a background check. The young lady that interviewed me knew I am self employed by my resume, and wondered why I was applying for this kind of job. I told her that I wanted to be close to home, and the job is only about ten minutes away. I love to work with young people, and love the fast food setting. Probably because my first ‘real job’ as a teen was at a fast food establishment.
She asked me, “What are you most proud of in your life?” (She probably thought I would answer that I have been successfully self employed for over twenty years)….My answer: My children.
It’s true. I am so proud of each of them, all six. I tell them at least a few times a month I am proud of them. I do this because I know of a man who is close to sixty years old. His mom was a Powerhouse. She now has dementia and she does not know who he is, or what she accomplished in her life. He told me that one of his greatest disappointments was that his mother never said she was proud of him. That made me think.
My bio mom never told me that either. She only said she loved me twice that I can remember.
Therefore, I make a point to tell the children, (four of them are adults) that I am proud of them. They are so much better than I ever was. They are successful and smart and educated and I am proud of them for that of course, but I am really proud of them for who they are.
The two youngest teens drive me up the wall. The boys really do. They are not guilty of bad behavior, they are actually very well behaved. They just can’t or won’t relate to me.
But all of the children are kind, loving, caring people. I don’t know how they grew up to be such wonderful people but they are. They care about their friends, their family, their co workers, strangers, world events, their country…I could go on and on. They are the kind of people that I would like to be with friends with if I were their age. They are kind to people and slow to anger unless provoked. They are not mean spirited. They like to have fun. They make people very comfortable, even if one is a stranger when they come to their homes. They volunteer, and try to do for others if they see a need….Yes, I am really proud of them. Does that make sense?