I thought for sure that once I reached a certain age or hit a certain milestone, I too would be so together, so calm, so grown-up. It was only a matter of time. I was sure of it!
So far, it has not happened. I am still waiting to feel grown-up.
And though I am far from old, I have passed a fair amount of ages and a whole lot of grown-up milestones.
I turned 29 last week. I've graduated from college, gotten jobs and apartments, I got married, I have 2 children. You guys, I am totally a grown-up. Seriously. Bona fide grown-up. I even get to vote and sign my own legal documents and stuff.
And yet I still feel like someone needs to come over around 10 o'clock and tell me that it's time to go to bed. And remind me that I need to eat more vegetables. Make sure I take my contacts out before I fall asleep. Why is no one checking to be sure I did my homework???
The more I discuss this with friends, the more I'm starting to suspect that the way I feel- that I'm faking my grown-up-ness, that I'm still just a kid playing a very high-stakes game of house- that this is really the way that EVERYONE feels.
Could this be true?!? That all of those people who I was SURE were so together, and calm, and grown-up, were really just faking it too? That we're all just faking it till we make it? If we ever do, in fact, make it. Hoping that one day we'll wake up as responsible and as grown-up and as wise as we always hoped we'd be??
Or maybe it's just me. Maybe you guys are all REAL grown-ups already, and I'm just a late bloomer. Or a non-bloomer. Only time can tell, I suppose.
David and I often talk about what mystery milestone is out there that will make us feel like REAL grown-ups. David turned 30 last year. He reports that he still feels like a fake grown-up, so that can't be it. For a long time we've joked that it must be buying either a minivan or a house. Large grown-uppy purchases must be the thing that turns you into a real grown up!! Right??
Well, just to see, we went on ahead and bought a minivan last week.
|A husband! A minivan!|
|Two children in a minivan! I must be a grown-up! I'm almost sure of it!|
And, for the record, WE LOVE THE MINIVAN! It's vantastic! We looked at like two SUV's and turned up our noses. No. thank. you.
We want a freaking minivan. With sliding doors and a third row of seats and enough room to buy a baby elephant on impulse and take it home with us, no problem.
We keep putting stuff in it and yelling things like:
"There's room for EVEN MORE stuff!"
"How did we live this long in our tiny sedan?!?"
"Go ahead, bring BOTH strollers!"
"Henry can't even reach Maggie in this van! YES!"
And, from me ONLY, not David: "We could TOTALLY fit another kid in here, no problem!"
But, despite our deep and abiding love for the minivan, it has not made me feel any more like a grown-up. And if it hasn't, I have no idea what will.
We still haven't bought a house, so maybe that could be it. Or maybe it's having a third child? The fourth?? The fifth??? Five kids is the max we can fit in the minivan, so hopefully it'll be one of those. Otherwise we're outta seatbelts. Not to mention cash and sanity.
(Also, RIP Lars, our beloved Mercury Sable. You were a good car, and we will always love you. And although the gigantic car repair bills you produced did make me feel sort of grown-up, it just wasn't enough. May you always rest peacefully in that giant parking lot in the sky.)