Isn't that a lovely quote? I mean really, it summarizes such a loving sentiment. Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and happy inside. Kind of makes you forget your family may or may not be filled with drama queens, fist fighters, law breakers, alcoholics or all-around shit heads.
But let's always remember the cardinal rule of families:
Everyone has a weird relative. And if you don't... then YOU'RE the weird relative.
Now that 2013 is coming to a close, it gives me time to reflect on what an interesting year it's been, and how fantastic it's been being surrounded by my family. Because if you're lucky enough to have a great group of friends, they're your family too.
Whenever it comes to my four kids and we're all in a room together, the pendulum can swing when it comes to how the mood is going to progress. We can be having a sweet moment at the dinner table and everyone is being actually kind and respectful to each other. And not even ten minutes later I'm trying to break up a melee between two daughters, each accusing the other of breaking all grounds of decency by wearing the other's underwear.
"Those are mine, you disgusting pig!"
"No they're not!"
"Yes, they are - you freak."
Then the challenge is made. A quick, calculated look from one to another. "Well, it's not like your name is on them."
Seriously? That's your litmus test? Because it's pretty safe to assume that unless any of us are named Victoria in this family, those undies are up for grabs.
Well, unless you're my 9 year old son. Pretty sure we'll always be able to determine which pair belong to him.
And even when my kids are threatening bodily harm over an xBox controller or giving each other the stink eye over who drank the last of the milk, I know deep down they love each other. And me. They just have weird ways of showing it.
A few weeks ago I shoveled the driveway, then walked back into the house and announced everyone had to put on their coats and shoes and come outside. I had something to show them.
Their speculation at what the surprise could be was intense.
"Did you get a new car?"
"Is there a package?"
"Are you pregnant?"
I rolled my eyes. "Good grief. Why would I drag you outside to tell you I was pregnant? You'd find me on the couch with a bottle of tequila, crying my eyes out."
Finally the five of us stood outside. They looked around, not sure what they were supposed to be seeing. After a minute, my eldest daughter said, "You shoveled the driveway."
"Ahhh, winner winner chicken dinner," I told them. "And let me be clear...that is the LAST time I am shoveling the driveway. I could slip and fall."
I noticed one of them rolling their eyes and looking at their sister with the "oh it's the ol' broken hip excuse." I narrowed my eyes and made my nostrils wide, hoping to emphasize my SERIOUSNESS IN THIS MATTER.
"I'm not kidding," I said. "From now on, whenever there's at least an inch of snow on the ground, I expect at least one of you to be out here shoveling. I don't care which one and I don't care if you come up with some type of schedule. All I know is that I will not be shoveling again. Any questions?"
They looked at me like I had just suggested a turd wrapped up in a crescent roll for dinner.
As we all made our way back into the house, my 11 year old daughter said to me, "I thought you were going to tell us that Channing Tatum was in our driveway, wrapped in a bow."
Ah, that's my girl. Always praying for beefcake.
I know most parents would hope that their children would willingly and lovingly offer to do chores around the house. In my fantasies I come home from work, and all four kids jump up and take my coat, my purse, and shove a cocktail in my hand. They fuss over me and have me rest my feet on the couch, while they set the table and get dinner ready. In my fantasy no one tells me my feet stink and they need money immediately.
But one thing I have noticed over the holidays is how sweet and gracious and loving my kids have been to other relatives. Especially when it comes to gift-receiving situations. It warmed my heart to see them with smiles on their faces and thank-yous come out of their lips on Christmas Eve. It made me think of all those years of pinching their elbows and hissing in their ears "I swear to god, if you don't say thank you in there and act like it's the best gift EVER I will take away every toy that's ever belonged to you and sell them on eBay" may have actually WORKED. I would look deep in their eyes to make sure we understood each other, and at some point one of my kids would say, "Yeah, I got it. Gosh, how much coffee have you had today? Brush your teeth. Gross."
In a few more hours it will be New Years Eve, and I'm going to be lucky enough to hang out with some wonderful friends. And yes, they are like family. Sometimes we argue and ignore each other and call each other on stupid antics. But most of the time, we are there for each other. We cheer each other on and embrace our collective weirdness.
So yes, over the years and amongst the legends ~ I may indeed be surrounded by drama queens, fist fighters, law breakers, alcoholics or all-around shit heads. Or I may not. That's what makes the stories good. My island of misfit toys is exactly what I need to feel loved and normal.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
