Consistently Fun

My mom read one of my blog posts recently and texted me, “We’re not very consistent parents, are we?” I don’t know if it’s because of how she was raised, or the fall-out from the craziness with my older brother, but she tends to be very self-conscious about her parenting skills.

Looking back on MY childhood, sure there were ups and downs – most of which I’d chalk up to my being a bratty teenager or dealing with depression, sometimes both – but there was nothing explosive. My parents were always there for me, always supportive and loving. Not only did they support me emotionally, but I can’t imagine how much they spent monetarily on school supplies/tuition and dance & singing costumes/classes, or how much time they put into helping me with homework, learning lines, sewing my costumes, taking me to and from classes or rehearsals. This is partially why I could never be a parent. I see how much mine did for me and I could never live up to that. I’m way too selfish, but at least I know it.

My parents might have wanted to get Dairy Queen before supper, or go to a movie before I finished my homework, but, in the end, I got everything done. I turned out OK (at least I think so!). They might have let me watch R-rated movies before I was 17 (gasp!) or let me hang out alone with my boyfriend (shock!), but I’ve got a good head on my shoulders, and I owe it to them. I’ve got my mom’s creativity and my dad’s organization. It’s a weird combo, I know, but I can’t help but appreciate both sides of me.

I don’t get to visit nearly enough, but I love seeing them. We always get up to something fun – trying on bins of costumes, painting, getting elbow-deep in fabric, hydro-biking, sight-seeing. They’re the ones who inspire me to do crazy, adventurous things (like skydiving). They’re the ones who introduced me to one of my favorite places of all time (Yosemite). They’re the ones that took care of me during break-ups or when my cat passed away. They’re the ones I can always turn to when I need to talk things out. I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve such a loving family, nor can I find the right words to express just how much they mean to me and how much I love them.

My parents’ consistency doesn’t lie in what they say to me (i.e., going out to meet people vs. taking time for myself), but in how much they love me.