The most unexpected part of being a grownup is….
Things like this still happen to me:
After all these years, I’m still the dingy blonde I was in my youth. Naively positive. Mostly oblivious. Probably shouldn’t be allowed to drive a motorized vehicle. But I’m entertaining, so there’s that. *sigh*
As a teen, I assumed my adult life would be like my mother’s: stressful, disappointing, lonely, desperate, scary. I thought that’s what happened to moms. Dads moved out and got to live the life they wanted, while moms were left to work three jobs to raise the kids.
I’m so grateful I realized that belief was wrong. Her experiences do not have to define mine. I’m happy. The opposite of what I expected of adult/wife/motherhood. But exactly what I deserve.
Speaking of being grateful…
I’m the First Ever Guest Bard over at The Well Tempered Bards! To have my words there, so completely safe and honored, is mind-blowingly cool. OH, and Lizzi drew the most magnificent picture to accompany my poem! It’s STELLAR. You have to head over there and see! We make quite the team.
My dog brought a baby bunny in the house. It wasn’t hurt. I was able to wrap it in a towel and keep it safe and warm until I could return it to the backyard. But not without petting its tiny ears and making lost of *squeee* noises.
The new season of Survivor started. (Yes, I still watch it. Shaddup.)
Can you tell I like TV?
I’m looking forward to not only Friday night with friends, but also Saturday. It’s gonna be a really fun weekend. (another two-fer. Two nights. Two thankfuls. WORD)
My crazy-ass husband was out of town recently. I spoke to him over the phone so early one morning the sun hadn’t even risen yet. I was still in bed. You know what he’d already done? Run up the stairs of his hotel. 48 FLOORS. TWICE. What kind of pod person does shiz like that? He’s nuts. (shhh. I’m really proud of his drive and determination. Don’t tell him)
I’m thankful my ankle is healing really fast. It’s sore and I don’t have full range of motion yet, but I can walk on it with just a teeny tiny limp.
My sons are constant source of amusement. Yesterday was my 9yo’s first time to do STAAR testing in school. When he got home, I went to sign his binder and found…well, just look below. To the right, he wrote,”Test. Worst day EVER!” Underneath (scribbled out by me) were the words, “crap it”.
Has anything surprised you about being a grownup? Are you a total ding-bat like me? Do your pets bring you “gifts”? What are your favorite TV shows?