I guess I kind of missed it. That big dramatic moment when all of a sudden I wasn’t a teen any more, I wasn’t even a young adult, you know, the moment when I became a full fledged adult – a grown up.
I’m not sure why I expected it to come with a big fan fair, but I did. I thought that I would have this huge epiphany, the skies would clear and Brittney Spears would emerge (from a delapitated old tour bus, because let’s face it – she marked my youth and cloud parting is reserved for the Big Guy). There would be music, and handing over of my Cosmo collection and I would slip into my first pair of high waisted, bubble butt mom jeans.
Adulthood and Parenthood would then arrive.
It didn’t happen like that. And I guess, for the most part I’m kinda glad. Ok, so I’m completely glad, I’m just also surprised.
I don’t really feel any different. I thought that being an adult would feel somehow different. Taller, more stern (although I do feel like a Mean Mom some days), boring and maybe even a little blah. I guess that’s what it looks like from the eyes of a teen, but standing here with the eyes of a “grown up” and the life of an adult – it’s nothing like that at all….
I like this grown up life. I always hoped I might but often worried I wouldn’t.
More than once in my teenage years I heard “Your older than your ___ years”. I spent much of my time with adults because the kids my own age frustrated me, and I even had a dear friend tell me once, that I was an “old spirit”. I came out ready to advance my years, hungry for real conversation and meaningful moments, (sidenote: I did have fun and was a kid, but as I aged my preferences ran to the older) so this easy transition shouldn’t have been such a shock, but it really was.
I think that friend was right. Being a wife and a Mom, running a home, (living with stress) working our budget, groceries, cleaning and general adult life make me happy. They make me feel complete and whole, like I’m finally where I belong.
Don’t get me wrong, there are days I long for my youth. For the days of bubble baths without interruption, for long leisurely meals that didn’t involve cutting someone’s meat, having only my own rear end to wipe, when the only thing I had to pay for was penny candy, and that penny candy really was A PENNY! I’d give up the stress in a heartbeat and take back the ungrey hairs (they keep growing back when I puck them – I don’t get it. Shouldn’t new hair be baby hair, be dark brown hair?).
But that’s about it. The rest of what comes with this grow up life makes me happy. It makes me feel like I have a purpose and like someone might just need me.
So, I’ll trade in my Cosmos for a subscription to Today’s Parent. I’ll download the Imagination Movers and watch Brother Bear. I’ll bake cookies, and buns, clean toilets and vaccum floors. And I’ll even drive a Mini Van (the Mom-mobile ROCKS! I can get so much stuff in there!). But I’m keeping my bubble bathes, even if it means I have “visitors” every 10 minutes, I’m not EVER going to wear the “Mom Jean” because sexy is necessary at any age past 18 (and by sexy I do not mean baring it all but the nipple. That is sleazy and we do NOT do the sleaze!) and I might still buy penny candy, even if it’s not for me, and even if it’s actually quarter candy instead.
Because being a grown-up’s not that bad, in fact, it’s pretty great!