My Dad
My dad is quite possibly one of the best, most ridiculous people I have ever known. Seriously. He has a love affair with bad puns, passed on to him from his father. He makes not just bad puns, but also bad jokes in general, jokes he knows are bad and immediately apologizes for, while already making the next one. He put up with me screaming at him over math homework for a good five years solid (third grade through eighth grade) and was always patient with me until I'd yelled and cried myself out, and then actually helped me with the stupid homework. He's incredibly intelligent. He's a lawyer, and he just knows things, things that have nothing to do with law. He encourages my dorkiness super enthusiastically and I love him for it.
Whenever I fight with my dad, he's always the one that takes a step back at the end of things and makes the first apologies. He's always willing to own up to the parts of things he thinks were his fault.
He's said that he sometimes expects more from me than is reasonable, and that he sometimes still treats me like his little girl. That's neither here nor there-- I want him to expect big things from me, and I want to be his little girl (at least, about half the time-- the other time I just want to grow up already, which is usually when we fight, and hey, it's usually my fault).
He takes this total delight in everything his kids do-- me singing, Caleb drumming, both of us reading and writing and generally throwing ourselves at school. He's fantastically supportive, honest to God. I know he sounds like this ideal, perfect parent, and he's not, but he is amazing as far as taking care of and encouraging his kids. I've never doubted that my dad's enthusiasm for the things I do is genuine.
He's incredibly, expansively loving and if I take one thing away from home and out with me into the world, I swear that's what I want it to be.
Whenever I fight with my dad, he's always the one that takes a step back at the end of things and makes the first apologies. He's always willing to own up to the parts of things he thinks were his fault.
He's said that he sometimes expects more from me than is reasonable, and that he sometimes still treats me like his little girl. That's neither here nor there-- I want him to expect big things from me, and I want to be his little girl (at least, about half the time-- the other time I just want to grow up already, which is usually when we fight, and hey, it's usually my fault).
He takes this total delight in everything his kids do-- me singing, Caleb drumming, both of us reading and writing and generally throwing ourselves at school. He's fantastically supportive, honest to God. I know he sounds like this ideal, perfect parent, and he's not, but he is amazing as far as taking care of and encouraging his kids. I've never doubted that my dad's enthusiasm for the things I do is genuine.
He's incredibly, expansively loving and if I take one thing away from home and out with me into the world, I swear that's what I want it to be.
My Mom
My mom is like some sort of exact blueprint for me, except more artistic, more intelligent, and generally better at quite a few things. She always gets me into new TV shows, she faithfully read the Harry Potter books (so did my dad, no fear guys), and she makes fun of me in internet speak. Lolz, anyone?
We have constant, snarky conversations, and through all the years when I wasn't sure who my friends at school were, or how to figure it out, my mom was there, always. We have incredible conversations, sometimes about nothing at all, that I'm always itching to write down just so I won't forget them. We watch HGTV together and make fun of the people making over their homes, especially when everything is worse afterwards than it was before.
My mom is also the person in my family who keeps me firmly rooted in the real world-- the fact that yes, I will need to be able to do dishes, do laundry, check my oil, cook dinners. For years and years she's been slowly but surely preparing me to actually live (horror of horrors) on my own.
My mom and I are so similiar that we often end up fighting, but our fights usually just sort of...disappear, because soon enough we have something we just have to talk to each other about (oh my gosh mom, did you hear Joe the Plumber wrote a book?!).
Besides being me, but better, my mom is also incredible with arts, crafts, and general arts and crafty things. Ask me who helped make Colin's magnets. I cannot take sole credit for those puppies.
She's sweet, and sarcastic, and completely incredible. She hates it when her kids fake cry (it actually gets to her, makes her sad, which in turn makes her shout at you to stop, and my brother and I find it hilarious), she's fantastically intelligent, and she spends lovely amounts of time with a family I love, telling stories I can't get enough of.
My mom's not afraid to take the serious things seriously even while snarking away about Britney Spears (hey, you have to be informed about celebrities to make fun of celebrities), and I think I have basically been surviving college applications on the strength of conversations with her.
P.S.: In order to dispel any notion, after reading this post, that I'm some sort of nice, or remotely cool, person, let me tell you what I just shouted at my little brother: Learning is fun, dorkwad!
We have constant, snarky conversations, and through all the years when I wasn't sure who my friends at school were, or how to figure it out, my mom was there, always. We have incredible conversations, sometimes about nothing at all, that I'm always itching to write down just so I won't forget them. We watch HGTV together and make fun of the people making over their homes, especially when everything is worse afterwards than it was before.
My mom is also the person in my family who keeps me firmly rooted in the real world-- the fact that yes, I will need to be able to do dishes, do laundry, check my oil, cook dinners. For years and years she's been slowly but surely preparing me to actually live (horror of horrors) on my own.
My mom and I are so similiar that we often end up fighting, but our fights usually just sort of...disappear, because soon enough we have something we just have to talk to each other about (oh my gosh mom, did you hear Joe the Plumber wrote a book?!).
Besides being me, but better, my mom is also incredible with arts, crafts, and general arts and crafty things. Ask me who helped make Colin's magnets. I cannot take sole credit for those puppies.
She's sweet, and sarcastic, and completely incredible. She hates it when her kids fake cry (it actually gets to her, makes her sad, which in turn makes her shout at you to stop, and my brother and I find it hilarious), she's fantastically intelligent, and she spends lovely amounts of time with a family I love, telling stories I can't get enough of.
My mom's not afraid to take the serious things seriously even while snarking away about Britney Spears (hey, you have to be informed about celebrities to make fun of celebrities), and I think I have basically been surviving college applications on the strength of conversations with her.
Together
Together my parents are a semi-ridiculous entity that I absolutely adore. I take so many of the things that I like best about me and that, more than likely, other people actually like about me, from them. My sense of humor, my interest in politics, my plain old intelligence. Honest to God, I love them, and if I've given them some kind of bad reputation with the Rogers student body, I swear that was a mistake.
I don't think they read this, but if they do, a message for them:
Mom, Dad, I wrote this sappy mess thinking you'd never read it, so I demand you not hold the unconditional love in the above post over my head. That would just be wrong guys. Really, really wrong. So hold your tongues.
I don't think they read this, but if they do, a message for them:
Mom, Dad, I wrote this sappy mess thinking you'd never read it, so I demand you not hold the unconditional love in the above post over my head. That would just be wrong guys. Really, really wrong. So hold your tongues.
P.S.: In order to dispel any notion, after reading this post, that I'm some sort of nice, or remotely cool, person, let me tell you what I just shouted at my little brother: Learning is fun, dorkwad!
This is so sweet. When I grow up, I am going to tell my kids to be just like you, Emily. Truly.
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