Growing up, my brother and I lived with my parents and my mother was a secret hoarder. She refused to throw anything away, although thankfully she didn’t like the newspaper so we never had stacks of those sitting around. We were poor and she had grown up even poorer so everything was kept “just in case”. That is, unless she thought she could pawn it for money such as my clarinet and the first ring a boy ever gave me. That’s for another post though. The one thing she could never get enough of was food. We would visit the homes of church members who would give us bags of food to get through the week. She knew a lady who worked in the cafeteria at a school and she would save all the leftover white and chocolate milk from the week for us. My mom would freeze it and pull it out as we needed it. She collected food stamps and went to the welfare office monthly to get the big block of cheese, powdered milk and peanut butter. I had never eaten at a fast food restaurant until I was in 2nd grade and won a book reading contest where the prize was driving for lunch with my teacher to the local McDonalds. I ordered a Big Mac lol. What I am getting to is that I’ve become my mother as far as food hoarding, although I have gotten much better over the years as I realized my problem. If I don’t force myself to take a step back and use the food already in my house – in other words when I get lazy and do not feel like making anything but I don’t want to order out – I can find myself at the grocery store spending a couple hundred dollars on food we don’t really need. Then I feel guilty like I have to eat it all so it doesn’t spoil. It’s exhausting being me with all of my quirks and bad habits picked up from my family. DW is much more patient than she was in the beginning. Thankfully she saw underneath the issues and stuck around. God, I love that woman. Which reminds me that I need to do another post about her horrific day yesterday. But back to this post. I find myself on this dreary Saturday morning looking around at all the clutter I have shoved into the corners of my house. Most of it is from my mother, which is sad. I get exhausted looking at everything I need to sort through but I’m going to do it. Does anyone else carry their parents issues with them?
My Favorite Device Ever!
My Favorite Book Series Currently