I worked hard to get here.

I get the sense that many people view me as a political lightweight who has coasted into a life of comfort thanks to my husband Pat being a doctor.
The funny thing is, they come to this conclusion because they have driven by our house once, and probably heard through the grapevine that my husband works for St. Luke’s. Well, let me fill you in on a bit about how we got here.

While we are certainly living pretty well today – we were only recently able to create our dream home along Lake Superior – I’ve certainly paid my dues along the way. I grew up lower middle class in North Minneapolis.
My mom used to transcribe notes that court reporters brought in, while my dad had a car radiator and repair business.
My folks would work until 6 p.m. every night, while my brother and I would fix dinner and then do dishes. Daily  chores and helping run the house as a team were skills I learned by necessity in my early years, and they’re what I’ve taught my kids. When I was old enough, I’d drive my dad’s truck all over Minneapolis, unloading and loading radiators at repair shops. Though I had to pay my way through college, I felt lucky to be going at all. I'm the first one in my family to graduate from college.

So just about every hour I wasn’t in class, I was working. And I had just about every job, from patching potholes to selling hot dogs in the Metrodome. All I did was study and work.

I’ll continue this story in my next post, but hopefully you can already tell that my life and past is about more than a beautiful (if I do say myself) home along the loveliest lake in the world.