Anyone else in the mood for some fruit? I sure am. That has turn into my dessert of choice. When I grabbed some dinner last week, I got a couple of plums for dessert. Last night I had some strawberry shortcake and it was fine, but afterwards I wished I had a bowl full of strawberries instead. I don’t know what this change in my taste buds are, but Im glad for it being that fruit is much better for me. Only problem with this craving is currently have is that its hard to instantly give into it. And its good for me! Why is it hard? Becasue when I go to the super market later, Im gonna pick out some yummy looking fruit. I will bring it home and wash it and put in a paper towel to eat and take a good bite to only find out its not ripe yet! I spend a lot of time gently testing fruit to find an already ripe one, but I rarely can find one. I have to wait a day or two before getting the sweet nectar that I long for. Maybe I should just get some juice to hold me over.

I’ve been thinking about growing up a lot lately. The sermon on Sunday was geared towards parents. Sitting in my seat wondering if Id remember this Sunday someday when I have kids of my own. Wondering if I really could simply just tell my parents how I thought they could make better parents. This past week, no reason in particular I’ve been missing my family greatly (so much in fact that a country song about a father and daughter made me cry). Anyone knows that their parents are humans so they will screw up in parenting. That is something else I realized I traded when becoming an adult. I no longer solely saw my parents as these two people who would never let me down. Children should have that idea and comfort in their parents. But the older I’ve become it would almost be too great of an expectation to place on my parents expecting them to be same as they were to me as a child. They will not say the right things or do the right things every single time. Even so, I will still turn to them for advice on life because of the trust they have built in my relationship with them.

Officially, we are adults at age 18. Do our parents (or to many of my friends, as parents) have only that short of time to help form who we will be when we are no longer under their care? That really is a very short amount of time, I never really thought about how short of time that is. Just thinking back on how the early 90s don’t seem that long ago to me, but it was almost twenty years ago. I believe parenting doesn’t ever really stop, but the most dominate time of influence you have your childs life is those first 18 years or so. 18 they start to go off to college or find themselves as an adult (I was the ladder). The role of the parents doesn’t lessen, rather, changes roles. My parents are still my parents, but I turn to them for different things than I did even a year ago. Those small windows of time have different seasons of your child being a small baby to toddler to a 5 year old going on 30 to a teenager and so on. All of those times seem to pass by in a blink of an eye (so Ive been told) and during those times of savoring this blessing you are to train up your child in hopes you can give them all you want to offer them.

To all the parents out there, kudos to you. To those of you trying to start a family, you are so brave. To parents of grown children, we still carry a part of the small little one you still think of us as, even if our mask looks like an adult. To my parents, thanks for the love and support I know I have to still grown up in.

The whole ride to the restaurant I was stressed out in what Jason had up his sleeve. This is when I realized I don’t like surprised that I know are coming. Maybe it was because it was so last minute I had no real time to prepare myself for this surprise. I am also one of the most jump people you’ll ever met. You don’t have to sneak up behind me to make me jump. I don’t remember being that jumpy as a kid. This isn’t to say that I don’t like surprises. I do. Mostly, because its seems to be rather easy for me to figure them out, which is half the fun of a surprise. Until the other day, I didn’t think of myself as someone who doesn’t like surprises. I’ve had surprised birthday parties in the past which I remember enjoying. Has the fun that a surprise brings something I grew out of over my years of becoming an adult? Even sometimes when getting gifts (I can see this getting me in trouble) and we have done this… we open a gift in fear we are going to hurt the gift givers feelings with our reaction. So as you tear the paper you are thinking how to express your reaction no matter what you really think of the gift. Now this is sounding shallow and I don’t mean it like that at all. Its not I don’t appreciate the gift, I do. Its more I’m afraid of hurting the person who gave me the gifts feeling. I’m most always thankful for a the thought of gift.

I just wonder if its all connected, that deep down I’m scared of hurting someone’s feelings. And in that, I an really scared of what someone else thinks of me which really isn’t what its about at all. The other night Jason just wanted to surprise me, in the simple joy that it was. But instead of thinking that, I was in fear I wouldn’t react the right way or let someone down. I guess its more learning how to push self away and focus on really what’s important. Who knew a surprise could stir such thoughts?

On another side of all this, when I get a gift that was made for me (like a photo album or mix cd) I feel like I’m getting to know the person more. The wedding was a close friend of Jason, so there is still room for me to grow in a friendship with the newly weds. What I do know of them makes me want to share this friendship Jason has with them. In sharing a part of me, my favorite lyrics and photos I took, is my way of sharing myself. Extending myself in form of something I hope they gain enjoyment from. We do this with most people in our lives one way or another. Share or not share, we chose who we give part of our lives to. We all have our own ways of sharing ourselves with others. Whether is through a gift or spending time with them, its an expression of who we are to them. Now its finding the balance of knowing how they express themselves to you. I know I have trouble reading people, so that something I can grow in my relationships with people close in my life.

My little brother is currently in the process of moving out for the first time. I have extended my help by sharing all the boxes I have brought home from work for myself. He doesn’t seem to have the same order of packing as I do. As in, he hasn’t put a single thing in a box to move yet. Sadly, in this decision to move out and sign a lease with a friend, he cant go travel with his band. He needs to keep his job, so he cant go on the road, so he had to quit the band and be a grown up. Lots of change at once going on for him. I hope he at least says good-bye before I leave the state.

One of my cats who is particular fond of me, Rizzo, has been having this problem of spraying areas of the house (yeah, ew). My mom says its because I’m moving and he’s upset. I reminder her that he does not know I am leaving, only that “his room” is full of boxes. In which my mom replies, same thing, his world is being turned upside down. I’m going to miss Oreo and Rizzo very much, despite the waking me up way too early or things of that nature.

I’m having to miss my 8th graders get promoted into high school. I will be somewhere in Texas during that time. I asked Hayley to call me so I can be on speaker phone when I hear my girls names called. They have been a very fun but challenging class over the past two years. At first, shy 7th graders who turned into loud, I don’t care what you think 8th graders. But I love them and their sweet hearts and amazing women I know they are starting to be.

Alright, before I get too emotional I’m just going to remind yall of my moving blog (which some can argue this entry should be on) since it seems many of you don’t know of it. www.ventiadventures.blogspot.com I got it mainly for when Carla and I are on the road, they have a cool audio blog option. So while I’m on the road that will be the best way to keep in the know of my life.

Getting a purity ring seemed to be the thing to do in my youth group. I remember being one or the first in my circle of friends. We had the same ring and it was a topic in the youth group. Our small group leader would ask us how we are sticking to our commitments, which for most of us was rather easy since we weren’t allowed to date. After the hype of it fell, I remember wanting a new ring. Not because I didn’t like the one I had or had changed my mind on this whole purity thing. With so many of my friends “into it” and having the same ring, some of what made it special was gone to me. I don’t remember when exactly, but I bought myself a new ring (my parents were only willing to pay for one that they thought was the first was still just as good) and sealed the deal again with a Frappuncino (I was like 14, the right age for drinking a Frappuncino). Somewhere over the years, I lost that ring I had bough, probably because it was a 6 and way too big for my finger but was that was the only size they had. So, in high school I searched again for the right size and a fitting ring for me. My original purity ring sat (and still sits) in my small jewelry box too small for my finger. It wasn’t till I was near the end of high school or out of it I found a circle of hearts I wanted as my third purity ring (sounds so wrong). It was again a little big, so it stayed on my middle finger to help not lose it. And I still to this day have it, but a couple of days ago it had to be taken off my finger.

This past week when I was at work in the afternoon I was doing a very common afternoon cleaning of the cold beverage station. Part of that is moving the blender, cleaning behind and under and the actual blender. Well, when I was putting the blender down from moving it, slammed down on my finger. I saw it happened but I didn’t feel anything but then my finger started to feel tighter. I realized my ring had caught the blow instead of my finger. But being not the most expensive ring, it smashed into a flat shape cutting off the flow to my finger. I started to pull it off and reshape it so it wouldn’t hurt, but it wouldn’t move. It started to hurt and turn my finger colors and panic started to come over me. I tell my manager what is happening and she says “just put butter on it and it will slide right off”. I put butter all over it, which didn’t make it budge at all. My finger,now covered in butter, has now turned to a dark shade of red/purple color. I ask my manger for something, anything to get this off my finger. She finally finds a pair of pliers and squished back into a circle shape and off my finger it came. One of my coworkers, totally oblivious to my panic asked why my finger was all red. His reply? “I hope it wasn’t a ring you really liked” I told him “Well, I did like the ring, but I like my finger more.”

So here I am once again without a purity ring. Wonder if workman’s comp covers such things?