"You don't know what it's like..."

"To be poor."

Someone said this to me once.  And you know what, they're absolutely, positively, 100% correct.  I do not know what it is like to be poor.  I thank The God above every night that I don't.  But, I do know the value of solid day's work is and I do know how to go at it HARD and not to stop until it's done.  If that meant I had to work 10 jobs to do it and never sleep a wink, I'm stubborn enough to do just that!  Especially for Jacob.  So I promise you this - if I were poor you'd never know it!

I don't think we were a rich household growing up on Maple Street.  We had food (though I still to this day won't touch cooked canned tuna fish to save my soul).  We had clothing (Edna always had more!).  We had extras. My parents both worked - in my time anyway.  My dad as an Electrical Engineer for Consumer's Energy (as it is now) and my mom as a nurse in a doctor's office (later as a sew-er in a factory).  When I was very young and the older kids were home, I'm sure money was tighter but, the burden eased a little more as each one moved out on their own.  And you know what - not one of us EVER moved back. 

I guess, in some ways I was spoiled.  Sure, I had expensive shoes and jeans (only 2 pair that I washed every other night) because my mom gave me $100 for school clothes and I bought 2 prs of jeans and $100 shoes that I worked after school and babysat to pay for.  Sure, I got a car before I graduated high school - with money that was saved FOR me -with the stipulation that I had to be able to pay insurance and upkeep all by myself!  Maybe at that time  I was VERY into material things and I wasn't as educated in the value of a dollar but, at 15/16/17 years old, I don't know anyone who wasn't, do you?  Besides, most of us grew out of it - most.

Growing up, my mom was pretty particular.  Our beds had mattress pads, and sheets with pillowcases that matched (usually she ironed the cases which I NEVER understood!).  And we even had covers over the pillows!  We had blankets for our beds and spares or extras if we needed them.  We had towels and washcloths and we NEVER, NEVER, NEVER had to go to the dryer looking for something!  You know - now I find a bed without a mattress pad EXTREMELY uncomfortable!?!  We were NEVER allowed to sleep without a pad AND a fitted sheet.  NEVER on a bare mattress!  And we HAD to have a top sheet! Poll:  Do you know how to fold a fitted sheet?  Yes, yes I do.  And king sized ones at that!

As kids in my parents house, we were responsible for getting our laundry to/from the basement for washing and sometimes it would be stacked on the stairs for us to put away when clean.  My mother NEVER-EVER put our laundry away.  We scrubbed stains on a washboard with Felsnaptha soap.  The bar was stuck on the top of the washboard.  We sorted by color with piles all over the basement.  My long blond hair always got caught in the cuff buttons on my daddy's work shirts and my sister Valerie would have to free me!  Laundry was done on Saturday.  If your laundry wasn't down.  Your laundry wasn't done. My brother would pay me to get his laundry down (and to clean his room).

We were responsible for raking the yard, mowing the lawn, taking out the trash and shoveling the snow.  We set the table.  We cooked.  We baked.  We did dishes.  We did laundry.  We ironed.  We cleaned house - dusting, vacuuming.  There were 6 of us to make light of those tasks.  And we did.  Every Saturday!

We actually cooked for the whole family.  We never had pre-made, pre-baked, prepacked, prepared foods.  If we had Salisbury Steak - the sisters made it.  If we had lasagna the sisters were boiling noodles.  Rolling out cookies, cakes were from scratch and bread raising on the heat registers in the winter.  We ate a lot of fish, venison, rabbit, squirrel, pheasant, etc. until my dad was too sick to hunt.  We popped popcorn and had sandwich nights but, Shit-On-A-Shingle was never allowed.  Dad ate enough of it in the Army and said he wouldn't touch that Shit again!  Oddly, my mother never made us birthday cakes!  Thankfully, I always had Karen to do those for me.

Dinner was at 6.  The table was set.  The lefties - one on mom's end and one on dad's so they didn't bump elbows with the righties.  Fork on the left, spoon on the right if you were a lefty you switched your own.  My dad sat by the TV to listen to the news and my mom by the kitchen.  We had to hold our tools properly and mind our manners.  No slurping soup.  No noise with straws, mind your please and thank-yous, please pass me this or that and we said our prayers before we dared to touch a fork! 

There were 6 of us.  We've had the same house for 43 years.  My mother still has the same carpet in her house she has had for all of my life and shockingly there are no visible stains.  There are no crayon or marker marks on my mothers walls - there is a spray mark of undercoating from my brother's car that he sprayed at one of us (prolly Val) and a grease spot where my mom threw a boat of gravy at my dad's head in the dining room though.  Oh, and a mustard stain on the ceiling too.  And we won't talk about "The ketchup packet incident".  And my sister, Karen drove a brand new Pontiac with my name scratched in the back window for a time (oooh!  That was such a pretty green rock I used when I did that!).  Our clothes and shoes always fit and they were always clean.  My mom would hem them up and let them out.  She patched knees and sewed buttons.  We kids joke about the amount of bleach my mom used on our whites - it was common while pulling your socks or underwears on in the morning to pull the band right off or to poke your thumb or finger through them.  We weren't allowed colored underwears because she couldn't bleach them - and if a colored pair snuck through, well they were white when you got them back! 

My dad didn't get into women's work (as I call it). He tried to bake a mayonnaise cake once and it tasted like white glue.  He liked those spice cakes!  He shrunk some of the sisters clothes and got himself banished from the laundry.  He worked and fished, and hunted - maybe not in that order!  The inner runnings of the house was my mom's responsibility.

To this day, I don't buy white canvas sneakers because if I get one scuff, I can't stand it and I have to wash them.  I do bleach our whites but, haven't lost a band yet.  I wash coats, hats, bedding, frequently and I have PLENTY of spares!  I can't wear shoes without socks, a belt without a shirt tucked in, and I send my dishcloth to the laundry after each use.  I will not wear white after Labor day and yes, my shoes do match my purse (it's real easy when you only wear brown shoes!).

You know - we were up visiting a friend a while back and Jacob stepped in doggie dookey - I didn't know how to get the poop off of his shoe.  Do you believe that!?!  My friend had to help me out.  Since Kelsey arrived, I've become an old pro at the dookey scrape but, we never had pets like that when I was a kid.  My mom always made them disappear...somehow.  But, even with Kelsey, I have to have the hair vacuumed almost daily - especially by her crate/bed.  I would like dookies to be picked up daily though my husband thinks I'm nuts.  I clean under and her bowls as often as I can.  And I just bought a carpet steamer!

I think of these things now as an adult and I'm kind of glad to have been raised with so many standards.  We were taught to take care of our things, to put them away, to keep them clean.  If you do these things, your stuff WILL last longer.  I think of the standards that were set so long ago maybe make us appear to be rich or maybe if some followed those standards they wouldn't seem so poor..?   Ya think?