Can't live with em, Wouldn't want to live without em.

“Mom, have you ever smoked weed?”
“Yes.”
“Mom, were you ever a heroine addict?”
“Twice. Next Question.”

My mom and Parker left for the Poconos Friday night, leaving me home with Cat and Sam for the weekend.  They just got home today.  I was laying on the couch, not feeling so hot with a sore throat.  Sam was sitting on the edge of the sofa, dressed like a pretty boy, obsessed with his new hairstyle.  Mom and Parker came in and sat on the loveseat.  We played catch up for a few minutes, and then just sat and talked to each other for an hour or two. It’s days like this I’ll never forget.

Most people look in on our family and think we have an odd relationship with each other.  I’d say it’s no odder than everyone else’s.  My parents separated when I was eight.  It was no shock, my mom and dad are polar opposites.  My mother grew up in a small row home in Philly with her six brothers and sisters.  SEVEN kids my grandparents had.  My grandfather is a carpenter, and had his shop out in the backyard.  This left my grandmother with all of the kids all day long.  My mom’s whole family is incredibly laid back, and still to this day remain close to each other.  I love family holidays with them, they’re the funniest people I’ve ever met.  My dad’s family is much different.  He grew up in southern Virginia, and was raised a good Baptist boy with his younger sister, Kate.  My grandmother kept her house in ship shape and everything was very organized, still is to this day.  My dad acquired this attribute from her.  She's got the best southern cooking...unfortunately, he didn't get that one.  I love this clan all the same, but this all being said, you can see how conflict would arise in my house, with my parents being the way they are, and four impressionable kids running around.

However, it was a relatively normal divorce.  My dad moved out and my mom kept the kids.  He remarried shortly after to my step mom, Shelly.  She’s also got two kids, Jack and Allie.  Allie’s going through a gothic pre-teen stage right now (dyed her hair black, put red stripes in, etc.).  Parker played her new favorite song for me today, a screamo song. My mom walked by.  She said “play it backwards and I’ll bet it says 'I am the devil'".  For a long time we would all go over every other weekend and Christmas Eve to spend time with them.  Now that we are older and more of us are starting to work and do our own thing, the number of weekends spent at dad’s house have dwindled.  We do see him though, he stops in at work occasionally and by our house everyday.My dad's family is much different then ours.  They're much stricter, and my stepbrother and sister don't have nearly as much freedom as we do.  The thing is....if you respect authority, my mom in this case, you earn more freedom.  They definitely don't earn it.

We love each other more than anything, we just have an odd way of showing it.  Even three seconds ago, I left my room to go tell Parker something, and Sam ran and hid in my closet while I was gone.  I had just walked in and climbed into bed, when he opened the door and said “Goodnight, Jordan.” Needless to say, my sore throat is now much sorer, and I believe I told him to go to hell numerous times. I called Parker today to ask him his favorite color for a shirt I was going to buy him.  His response was “I show no discrimination against the rainbow, I like to treat all colors equally.”  Who thinks like that?

No matter how much we fight, how many bad names we call each other, or how many times Sam jumps out of my closet, nothing can ever change how much I love these people and the impact they’ve made on my life. These kids are crazy, and we have the best time together. Years from now, there’s not one holiday I won’t remember, no practical joke I’ll forget, being called a bitch on a regular basis will not slip my mind, and I will never, ever let the day my mother told Parker she was a heroine addict twice relapsed be lived down.

Ever.

She's not by the way.