Continuing on with the challenge, and at #4.. Your Parents...
They are complete opposites of each other.
Daddy is a stay at home kinda guy who loves to watch his TV and is most comfortable in his own chair.
Mommy is (as was described by a theater person) like a drunk bumble bee... buzzing around all the time from one thing to another always on the go.
When it comes to their kids they are always there, and always supportive.
I've been thinking about what I was going to say when it came to writing about my parents, and no particular thought came to me.
Do I write about who 'they' are? Or how I was raised? Or is this gonna be like some cheesy day time talk show blog about how I blame my momma for my crack addiction?
Instead I thought I'd pick on a memory or two from my childhood (before age 17) that would best illustrate some of the above.
I never really knew what my 'da' did for a living when I was young. Most likely because I didn't really care, surviving in that selfish stage of childhood when it was all about me. Instead remembering only the great cakes he brought home from Sarah Lee.. the ones with the crooked frosting that they couldn't sell in the stores (and no he didn't work for Sarah Lee.. at least I don't think so???)
Pay day Fridays he would bring chocolate bars home for us.. and that was a pretty cool treat for us back then.
We used to watch old movies and I would tickle his feet for a penny a minute, which was raised to 10 cents a minute when I understood the value of money.
However the strongest memory I have with my daddy was a once a week event that took place when I was a young teen living in Ontario. I had early morning piano lessons that he would drive me too, and on the way to school we always stopped in at McDonalds for an egg McMuffin and an orange juice.
I always thought this was so special and it was like a secret between just me and my daddy... I have since learned that my baby sister also got the same treatment... although knowing this doesn't take away from the 'specialness' that I felt from back then.
My 'ma' was a stay at home mommy until I was in middle school, I think... or was it high school... I don't remember... I just remember she worked at the building next to the high school splicing those educational films we all watched in school from way back when.
Now... I say she was a stay at home mommy because I don't really remember if she did work or not when my sister was younger... don't forget I was in that 'it's all about me selfish stage.'
Mom was always on the go, still is, doing something, having us do something. Life was always moving for us in our home... and that is okay... I have some pretty good memories.
Mom was always and I mean ALWAYS doing stuff with us and for us that picking out a one particular memory is hard for me...
Mom was the one who taught me how to drive. My first time ever in a car after receiving my learners was at night, in the rain and she had me turn left onto a semi busy street. AND we didn't live in no small town!
I have some great memories from when I was a kid with my mom camping at Darien Lake in the States every summer for quite a few years in a row. Just my mom and us three kids as my dad had to work (besides he hated camping.. bugs and the outdoors were not for him).
But one particular memory that stands out of my mom is a time when she dropped me and my best friend off at middle school. I was in grade 7 and just oh so cool. As we neared the school we asked to be dropped off at the corner furthest from the building. I mean after all someone might see us get out of my mothers car!
No, instead she drove as close as she could get which was in the teachers parking lot right by the door where all our peers were. We tried to make a hasty retreat and near about died of shock and embarrassment when she got out of the car and stood on the door frame and started yelling her goodbyes to us and waving.
Although I thought I could have died at the time, it wasn't long before that made me laugh thinking about it.. yup.. that was and still is my mom.
My parents are still together, and continue to be a big part of my life.
For that I feel very lucky.
Do I blame my mom for my crack addiction?
We all gotta have dirty laundry to make life interesting :-)