Adulting
Part of me wants to go back in time and slap my arrogant eighteen year old self silly.
The eighteen year old who thought she knew more than her parents. Yeah, that one.
There's a lot more to this "adulting" than I realized. People post jokingly (or in even serious desperation) about it on Facebook, and there a probably a gazillion click-bait articles angsting about it. But honestly, it's more than understanding how a checking account works and that you need to get your oil changed in your car. It's more than figuring out how to menu plan and then shop for a week's worth (or more) of groceries. It's definitely more than learning to wash your whites separately from your darks. Yes, all of these are important. No, you are not really an adult if you can't manage those basics.
The real adult stuff? Coping with the relentless downpour of tasks that you just can't leave undone. If your family consists of more than just one or two adults, that downpour becomes a flood. A flood that rises and ebbs, but still leaves you constantly stroking your way through deep water.
I've always been an overachiever I guess because I decided to load up my plate with several big fat layers of adult responsibility. Five of them, specifically. But apparently five kids was not enough for my ambitious nature because I had to add homeowner, writer, piano teacher, pet owner, and newsletter editor on top of the standard homemaker bundle of chef/nurse/chauffeur/maid/teacher.
I'm so tired.
Just dead tired.
I've had a horrible cold for several weeks now. The tick nightmare is still ongoing. (Curious what my week has been like? Revisit my last post. The cleaning and the tick-tweezing are regularly repeating. I feel like I'm stuck in the Groundhog Day of Tick Hades.) But normal daily life still has to go on too, ticks or no. Meals need to be made. Homework needs to be supervised (like creating logic puzzles that look exactly like the example--for the love of Pete, why???? Who comes up with these "creative" projects? B spent hours and hours and there were tears and hair pulling on my part, and it finished on her birthday with me frantically designing tables in Word that more or less looked right for her to fill in.) I'm still driving so much that I visit the gas station every other day. (Usually QT. They have the cleanest bathrooms. And I am drinking A LOT of soda to stay awake. I know where all the best bathroom stops are on my route!) Bills still need to be paid, friends have crises that I want to help with, my husband still would like some time to have me to himself . . . plus all the other fun homeowner stuff like yard work tossed in just to change it up.
And it doesn't stop. It just keeps coming. That's adulting. Keeping on top of it all.
When I figure it out, I will let you know. Til then, I'll continue faking it til I make it. Seems to work. I've got pretty much everyone fooled into thinking I know what I'm doing.
Except my seventeen-year-old. Because she knows way more than her parents. Just ask her. 😄
The eighteen year old who thought she knew more than her parents. Yeah, that one.
There's a lot more to this "adulting" than I realized. People post jokingly (or in even serious desperation) about it on Facebook, and there a probably a gazillion click-bait articles angsting about it. But honestly, it's more than understanding how a checking account works and that you need to get your oil changed in your car. It's more than figuring out how to menu plan and then shop for a week's worth (or more) of groceries. It's definitely more than learning to wash your whites separately from your darks. Yes, all of these are important. No, you are not really an adult if you can't manage those basics.
The real adult stuff? Coping with the relentless downpour of tasks that you just can't leave undone. If your family consists of more than just one or two adults, that downpour becomes a flood. A flood that rises and ebbs, but still leaves you constantly stroking your way through deep water.
I've always been an overachiever I guess because I decided to load up my plate with several big fat layers of adult responsibility. Five of them, specifically. But apparently five kids was not enough for my ambitious nature because I had to add homeowner, writer, piano teacher, pet owner, and newsletter editor on top of the standard homemaker bundle of chef/nurse/chauffeur/maid/teacher.
I'm so tired.
Just dead tired.
I've had a horrible cold for several weeks now. The tick nightmare is still ongoing. (Curious what my week has been like? Revisit my last post. The cleaning and the tick-tweezing are regularly repeating. I feel like I'm stuck in the Groundhog Day of Tick Hades.) But normal daily life still has to go on too, ticks or no. Meals need to be made. Homework needs to be supervised (like creating logic puzzles that look exactly like the example--for the love of Pete, why???? Who comes up with these "creative" projects? B spent hours and hours and there were tears and hair pulling on my part, and it finished on her birthday with me frantically designing tables in Word that more or less looked right for her to fill in.) I'm still driving so much that I visit the gas station every other day. (Usually QT. They have the cleanest bathrooms. And I am drinking A LOT of soda to stay awake. I know where all the best bathroom stops are on my route!) Bills still need to be paid, friends have crises that I want to help with, my husband still would like some time to have me to himself . . . plus all the other fun homeowner stuff like yard work tossed in just to change it up.
And it doesn't stop. It just keeps coming. That's adulting. Keeping on top of it all.
When I figure it out, I will let you know. Til then, I'll continue faking it til I make it. Seems to work. I've got pretty much everyone fooled into thinking I know what I'm doing.
Except my seventeen-year-old. Because she knows way more than her parents. Just ask her. 😄
Comments
Keep your sanity in it all, please! I think you're doing great! Hugs!