Influence

There's always something interesting going down on Lynn Rush's blog.
Sometimes she tests your movie trivia. Sometimes she sends you on walks down memory lane. And sometimes she makes you bust a gut laughing at her Friday Funnies.
Yesterday, she blogged about The Noticer Project that began on Michael Hyatt's blog.
The idea is to call out five people who have influenced you in your life as a way to recognize them. (Actually, he calls it a challenge, but I found the only challenge was narrowing it down to five people. So, of course, I cheat a little bit.)
Here are my five biggest influences.
1. Dana Harris. Of course, I'm going to list my husband. I think it would be ridiculous not to acknowledge the influence he's had on my life after being married almost 15 years. My husband has taught me faith and endurance. Often, I find myself envious of the courage he has displayed in the face of his alcohol addiction, and I admire the strength he has shown in lifting that "higher power" down from its pedestal and allowing God to move in its place.
2. Molly Harris. My 14-year-old has taught me patience. The first time I held Molly I didn't feel that warm, fuzzy feeling all new moms are supposed to feel. I believe the feeling in my heart was, "Oh crap ... ready or not, here life comes." For a long time, I felt unworthy to be responsible for something so fragile. I felt ill-equipped to handle 3 a.m. feedings, chronic constipation and unbridled colick. (Here's where Molly reads this, slams her computer shut and says, "Mom? Do you have to talk about my bowel movements on your blog?") I wondered when, oh when, would I feel those warm fuzzies new mom's always talk about. It didn't happen for a long, long time, but when it did, I cried. (And she said, "Geez, mom, you're such a bawl-baby!") :-)
3. Elizabeth Harris. My 7-year-old taught me that not all blessings are expected. Her presence in my life has shown me that accepting the unexpected surprises we are given can have lasting rewards. I had finally established a comfortable groove in my marriage and motherhood when I discovered I was preggers with Boop. Knowing how long it took to find the fuzzies with Molly, I wasn't ready to do the baby-mama thing all over again. But then, when she was only two weeks old, she smiled at me, and despite the fact that she had just peed on me at 2:30 a.m., I knew her and I would get along famously.
4. My sisters: Kim, Kelly, Kristi and my twin cousin, Jill. (Yeah, here's where I start cheating on that five people.) From these four people, I have learned how to laugh at myself (mostly because they spent so much time laughing at me when I was little). When I was two years old, I fell down the stairs in our split-level home and got rolled up in the runner (those plastic rugs with pokies on the bottom). Knowing I was uninjured in the ordeal, my family laughed at the sight of me trapped in that stupid rug. Even though I used to get angry whenever I heard one of them retell this story, I eventually realized how goofy it would have looked. (And how if my parents had had the sense enough to video tape the incident, I'd have won $100,000 on America's Funniest Videos.) And Jill, although she and I only managed to see each other once in a blue moon, the way we found the stupidest things to laugh at (screaming willows -- what is that?) has taught me to always find the humor in dull, depressing or otherwise rotten situations.
5. And lastly, my parents have taught me responsibility. (I'm not quite sure if they'll consider that a compliment or not, though.) Whether it was 110 degrees or four feet of snow, my father rarely missed a day of work. And my mother, who worked full-time up until a few years ago, still managed to find time to raise four daughters, make it to their extracurricular events and do all of the things traditional moms are supposed to do. I never realized how hard that stuff would be until I became a parent and had to put my own interests on the back burner to care for my family.
I'm grateful that each of these people are in my life. It's hard to imagine WHO I would be without you.
Now, who are your five?