independence.

I never actually realized how independent I was (am?) until I got to college. Surrounded by so many of my peers who had never had to provide for themselves, whether it be making meals or grabbing them from the dining hall, I couldn't help but look back at my childhood and being impressed with the way my parents raised me. I remember hearing with disbelief of friends who didn't do a single load of laundry themselves until they got to college, and instantly recalling how my mom taught me to do laundry as soon as I was tall enough to reach the knobs of the washing machine as long as I stood on the toilet that was right next to it.

Now, I always attributed this and the other things my parents taught me throughout my formative years to my being the fourth of five children and them being two full time workers. And in some ways that definitely did play a part, but at the same time my parents were intentionally raising five independent children who could do their own laundry, write their own checks, and order a couple pizzas for the family for dinner when necessary.

Bonus story: When Matt and I were on Long Island for Christmas, he asked our Aunt Theresa (oldest of my mom's six siblings) which of the seven kids was the laziest. Her reply: "Oh that's easy. Your mother. She was always getting other people to do her work. That's why you guys grew up having to do so many chores!" L. O. L.

This was hilarious to us. We've only seen our parents as constant workers, whether at their jobs or at home, so hearing our mom did the least work as a kid was really quite a treat. But the fact is, we know how to care for cats and dogs, we know how to change diapers, we know how to set up doctors appointments and show up on our own, and (if you count H&R Block) we know how to do our taxes.

So this post is really just boasting of my own independence and how proud I am that I can so much for myself, but it's also a testament to how well my parents raised me and my siblings, and I really admire them for that.

At this point in the post you're probably saying to yourself, "Wow I always knew Mary was so cool and know I think she's even cooler! But why did she put a picture of Christmas stockings for this post...?" Well, first of all, yes, I know, thank you. And secondly, you'll notice how flawless and beautiful the writing on Matt's stocking is, and, comparably, what a hot mess mine is.

It turns out that when my mom was writing out my name with the glue and then putting the glitter on it, I was very eager to "help" and I ending up somehow smudging my name when my mom had warned me not to touch it multiple times. Because I was too impatient to sit around and let someone else do all the work.

Well, Merry Belated Christmas and Happy Belated New Year!