Who am I? Good question. I like to think I’m a work in progress… which is good for me because I have a lot of areas where I can improve. I wouldn’t call myself old yet, but I’m definitely not young anymore (sigh).
I should clarify; my age says I’m not young anymore, but things are different in my head. Don’t worry, this is normal. You’ll get used to it. Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about how things will be when I grow up – and then I snap back to reality and The Bomber needs a diaper, The Comedian has 4 pages of homework, Gadget is calling to tell me Murtaugh needs brakes, and I just realized dinner was done 10 minutes ago and is still crisping nicely in the oven.
I guess this is what they call grown up. Someone should have let me know this ahead of time. Somewhere along the line I thought that when I became a grownup I’d get some sort of mental badge that let me know I’d made it. Like “Hey, you’re here! Way to go! You’re officially grown up.” Unfortunately, this has never happened. I regularly second guess the decisions I make and struggle to keep everything balanced on a day to day basis.
This blog promises to be a random collection of my thoughts, trials, mistakes, internal commentary, my frustrations, and my successes. It’s really just a way to get out what I have inside in a hope to make things better for my family. If, in the process, I find other people who can relate to what I have going on, maybe we can help each other become real bona fide grownups.
Here’s to a bright future together!
We can relate. Why is it that I am considered old and yet, in my head, that “hot” guy at the bar might just come over and hit on me… then reality (or lack of drinks hits) and I realize that is NOT going to happen. But for some reason, when not hit bluntly in the face by what is true, I believe that I am still 26 and have my whole life ahead. And that I am not actually at the bar, but sitting in my house watching the 3rd NCIS of the week.
I realize that I am a “Maaaamma” (but a young one) who LOVES watching the little guy, tries her best not to tell her kids constantly that just because gravity exists, doesn’t mean that towels and everything we owe belongs on the floor, attempts to understand that those same kids aren’t really kids anymore and could be almost living on their own (where their places would be a disaster and it would be acceptable), and strives to be awake when the significant other arrives from 12 hours of work, have dinner still hot but not dry, work for college classes finished, grandson in bed after reading him a book, house clean, laundry finished, and some e-mails answered for work between sending out bills.
And, wouldn’t have it any other way, except maybe fore being 26 again. I would have much more energy and I would be able to stay awake at the occasional campfire later than 12 midnight.
Glad to know that I am not the only one who feels like I am not *really* an adult yet. I sometimes look at my 2 kids and think “who in the hell let me have kids?” or “how did this happen?” (I know how the kids happened….I mean how did I go from being 17 to being married for the second time, two kids, full time professional job, and a house to take care of). I wouldn’t trade it for anything but sometimes it just doesn’t seem real.