April 7, 2010

Confessions of a failing Super Oberg

Most people think that their mother is incredible and talented and can do just about anything.
The truth is, I don't just think those things,
my mom is all those things.
But not just my mom.
Her whole family is.
My mother's maiden name is "Oberg", and pretty much everyone within a 100 mile radius of Palmer, Alaska knows the Oberg family. 
My grandparents have been dairy farmers; they have had their own catering business; they have served two missions for our church (each lasting two years); they built their home; they also built another rental home on their property a little over five years ago...by themselves....and my grandpa is in his mid 80s;
Grannie can sew anything; Grandpa has built his own cars, planes, and tractors; 
they are both expert gardeners;
there is hardly a person in the Mat-Su valley who hasn't been blessed by their generosity and service;
and they have six kids, thirty-something grandchildren, and who-knows-how-many great grandchildren.
They are the epitome of superheroes disguised as senior citizens.
All of their children are following quite nicely in their footsteps
and their grandchildren are no exception. 
I just come from an amazing family of Super Obergs!

Having been born an Oberg, I have always expected (since the time I was a kid) to someday be a super cook, super seamstress, super gardener, super handy-woman and home-decorator, super athlete, and super mom of eight kids.
That's just what Obergs do!

Fast forward 15 or so years to the present,
and I am struggling to do my Oberg name proud (at least as of late).
Case in point:
Although my Super Oberg mom had me baking on a regular basis from the age of 11,
 I still can't make a decently-shaped pinch roll to save my life.

I'm not the worst cook,
but even my ego-boosting-of-a-husband can't deny that I have made some wildly unsuccessful culinary inventions lately.
 I butchered (and I mean butchered) a few sweater dresses I was trying to make for Kenadie the other day.
How can I share the same DNA as super-sewer Grannie!?

I think I am the only Oberg grand daughter who hasn't (nor has the desire to) run a half marathon. 
Actually, it's worse.  I've never even run a 5K!  
A 5K seems kind of challenging to me right now (and I am quite embarrassed to admit this).

My home decorating/renovating skills are pretty much non-existent.
My apartment, to put it gently, looks like "blah".

And to top it off:
I only have ONE kid, people! 

A SuperOberg should be able to run up Mount Kilimanjaro with five kids on their back (all wearing home-spun wool sweaters), build a barn at the top, and have a pot of beef stew (made with homegrown veggies, of course) ready by 6pm sharp!
In the Mount Kilimanjaro metaphor,
I only have one kid on my back
and  I think I'm somewhere close to the bottom of the mountain
complaining about a pebble in my shoe.

Either being a Super Oberg is just really, really hard
or I am just a little slow.....

 I'd like to claim the former,
but whatever the case
I am still determined to dig deep and pull out the Super Oberg-ness that I know (or hope) must be in there somewhere.
I am going to get into killer shape,
learn to sew,
become a handy woman around the home (and make it look pretty),
whip up the world's yummiest soup from refrigerator left-overs (how does Grannie do that!?)
and bake perfectly round pinch rolls.

Most importantly,
I am determined to at least become a Super-Oberg-kind-of mom to however many kids I have (because eight kids seems like A LOT more now than it did when I was ten years old!).

Oberg women may have a reputation for having the kind of voices that carry across ten acres
and practically burst a child's eardrum when being told to "finish those chores, or else!!!",
but Oberg women are also some of the most compassionate, nurturing, and loving women I know.
They are super moms.
I look at my Grannie who still makes Christmas gifts for all the grandchildren, feels weird if she hasn't made dinner for someone else at least 3 times a week, and teaches the Sunbeams every Sunday (who all think she's the greatest, by the way),
and I really hope that I got some of those Super-Oberg-mom genes.
If that is the only way that I ever fit in to all the amazing-ness of my family,
then I'll be pretty darn satisfied.
Besides, lop-sided pinch rolls still taste just as good, right?


Taffy and Tony said...

Holly, you've got me all choked up, saying exactly what I often feel (in FAR better words than I could ever say it). They truly are amazing, and I feel SO blessed to have some of that blood pumping through my veins. But in the words of my P90X, "Do your best, and FORGET THE REST." It took them years to perfect those talents, as it will us. And you also have to consider some talent trade-offs. For example, I coach volleyball, something which I love, am trying to be amazing at, and takes a lot of my summer time. So, chances are, my garden will never parallel my mother's, who lives in it all summer long. See what I mean? And I just thought of something you can do even better than GRANNIE! BLOG. (My bet--she doesn't know how to even FIND your blog!)

Tina said...

Okay, that post had me in stitches?! lol!! Your description of grannie and our moms sound so ridiculously crazy, but the crazy part of it is that it's all SO true!? You got it spot on! We sure do come from incredible women!? And there is certainly pressure on their offspring to live up to the reputation of being an Oberg!? :) It's barely 9am and I have bread dough rising in a bowl because I haven't made home-made bread since having Sullivan, and making bread is what Oberg women do, so I figure I'd better stop being lazy about it and get going!? Yeah, seriously, that thought has totally been going through my head all week, which is why this post is so hilarious to me right now!? Oh the pressure! But I like Taffy's thoughts...do your best, forget the rest! :)

Rachel Kenley said...

Oh Holly, honestly, you can't be as inadequate as I am. I HATE running and I can't even cook hamburger helper. So there. :)

George and Heidi Skinner said...

Ok, so I attempted to make homemade bread for the 1ST TIME ever....and it was just ok. They're kinda like bricks now (3 days later). Plus, it takes all I can do to run 2 miles. I did it a couple days ago, and thought I may very well die. And I did it in *almost* record time-about 25:00. Yes, I know...I'm that good. Don't worry about it! Lately I've been feeling kinda the same....for heaven's sake, I JUST now got my own sewing machine, made bread (and cinnamon rolls) for the first time by myself, etc etc. You're doing great Holly!!!

Adrienne said...

I felt the same way about my Mother! But one talent that I do know that you have probably over anyone else is your incredible talent of writing!!! I absolutely love your blog!!!!!

~Crystal~ said...

I wasn't going to comment originally, but I came back and was reading...and I just have to tell you something. You are freak'n amazing! For as long as I have known you (even all those years ago in Mexico), I have been just in awe of what you can do!
I remember you putting on your own play in mexico when you were like 9 or 10, I think. Wow! You were incredibly kind and friendly to everyone, never shy. You were my first, and best friend there. You always had a project going, like selling bread, or having a garden. I remember that in Alaska you were raising animals and you were on the FFA counsel (not sure exactly what it's called). You went out for Miss Alaska! You graduated BYU, in Nursing which is one of the toughest programs to get into! You look at everything with a positive attitude! You make jam! You are so, so on top of your blog!
To sum up, I gave up a long time ago thinking I could keep up with you. I just watch with amazement. I swear I'm not making any of this up. Even though we haven't been in complete connection all these years, I just know that you've been achieving excellence. 'Cause that's who you are. You are Oberg awesomeness! :)

Garrett said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Holly June said...

you just made me cry!
Thanks for being such a sweetheart.
Wanna move to Minnesota and teach me how to sew?

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