Day 3/30: My parents.

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Day 3/30 on the 30 Things Blog Challenge from Cherishing Hope is- "Describe your relationship with your parents".

The fam at Christmas last year (the theme was ugly Christmas sweaters- Dad didnt get the memo)

 



If I was writing this blog back in high school, this would be an entirely different post. My mother will tell you that I won the "worst daughter ever award" for about 2 years straight. She's probably right. I went through a phase where I called my parents by there first names. In my defense, I didn't realize it hurt their feelings until someone finally came forward and told me. I thought I was hilarious and, you know, I was a teenager so obviously I knew everything (or nothing. Whatever.)

 

Now, though, I can usually understand that my parents really care for me. Even when they dont agree with my decisions, they are just trying to look out for me and protect me. As I have gotten older they have also become more understanding of the fact that I have to make my own decisions and decide who I want to be and what I want out of life. Although, I'm still trying to convince them that I need more tattoos. They had a hard enough time with the first one.

 

I've always been convinced my dad was some hybrid mix of God and Superman. When I was little, my mother and I flew to California by ourselves (well, Brea may have been there. I can't remember). Something happened so that with our flight and, if memory serves me correct, without us even calling him, he had already made arrangements for us. That's my dad and his super human abilities for you!

 

If you ever have the chance to meet him, let him tell you some stories. He's been skydiving. He's walked on hot coals. He's studied with an Amazonian medicine man. Ask him about the cracks in time. Ask about his trip to Japan. He's literally the coolest, most adventurous Dad a girl could have. I only hope to someday be as adventurous as he is.

 

My mom is the more practical of the two. She thinks through everything. She has a heart the size of Memphis (that's pretty big, right?). She is the one who tries to buy you groceries when you go to her house complaining about being a broke college kid. She always wants to hear about your day and trade stories. We argue from time to time. Somehow we are exactly alike and completely different all at once. She likes to keep her feet on the ground. She doesn't like big crowds. I probably cause her a million heart attacks. She tells lame jokes and then thinks she is hilarious (oh! That's where I get that from!) She's kind of adorable.

 

Sometimes, I swear there are no 2 people more different than my parents. They seem to agree on one thing though- they sure care about Brea and I.

 

I couldn't even have dreamt up a better family.  

 

 

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