Tag: adulting

The Childish Stage

The first half of life is learning to be an adult-the second half is learning

When I was away last week, I didn’t look at the news. I didn’t scroll through Twitter. I eased into my mornings. I savored delicious food and I reveled in long, meandering conversations. I didn’t look at my phone immediately and at all times. (This is partly because I recently read an article which was an interview with Good Morning America anchor, Robin Roberts. Robin said that someone recently told her that if you look at your phone first thing in the morning, that’s like inviting 100 screaming people into your bedroom. That resonated with me. I like my bedroom to be my quiet, peaceful place.)

Being childlike isn’t just about being silly and playful and goofy and blunt. Being childlike is mostly about paying attention to the immediate. Being childlike is following your whims and what is capturing your fascination, mostly because it is just so interesting and captivating to do so. Being childlike is being enthralled with the process of being alive.

I think the second-half of adulthood is when you really hone in on what actually matters to you. You wake up to the realization that you are on the downward slope of the mountainside of your own life. And the climb that you trudged on the upward slope of your early adulthood is sort of a blur. You don’t remember a lot of the upward climb. You were so busy running up the track and following the signs that were dictated as directions for you, and for everyone else, to follow and to follow quickly, as if on a race. On this downward trek, in your second half of adulting, you aren’t convinced that you need all of the baggage that you climbed up with, and collected along the way. A lot of this baggage isn’t even your own. So on the downward slope, you drop a lot of stuff that you realize isn’t necessary for you to carry, and you take frequent stops along the way to just notice and take in everything. Everything. You meander off of the beaten path more, because life can be really interesting off of the beaten path. And you make no apologies for it. You become like a child again and you remember what those first wondrous steps and breaths of life really must of felt like, and you realize how amazing and wonderful and awe-striking this second half of adulting will be. Learning to be a child is wonderful.

“Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” – Luke 18:17

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Finish Strong

Fast approaching, is the end of the first half of my adult life, which I mainly devoted to taking care of my family. My daughter has decided to start college in the summer term, so by the end of this June, 26 years of parenting and 12 years of supporting high school activities, sports, and guiding our four children into their own burgeoning adulthoods, is about to come to a close. All of us parents know that we will be parents for life, but the hands-on, main focus, every day sort of parenting which I have done for most of my adult life, is coming really close to coming to its own close, in a matter of a few short months. I’ve brought this up on the blog before, but it bears repeating. I am now constantly reiterating to myself a mantra that I oft repeated to our kids, throughout their childhoods. Finish Strong. Whether it was pertaining to a school year, a class, a sports season, a race, healing from an injury, an essay, an exam, etc. the directions I gave were simple: Finish Strong.

So, during these last few weeks I have been busy putting celebratory dates on the calendar. I have been busy with planning, and spouting lots of last minute advice to my daughter with hopes that I am not forgetting anything important and pertinent. I have been busy savoring the last high school tennis season (actually the last high school sports season which I will ever attend regularly). Overall, I have been busy with working on the finishing touches and flourishes of the final chapter of Volume 1, of my own Adulthood Saga.

At times, my busy mind has veered into trying to goad me into making a firm outline, in order to carefully plan Volume 2 of my Adulthood Saga. My Inner Control Freak sometimes goes into panic mode, and she makes me feel like we had better get going, in order to be well-prepared, organized and energized for Chapter One of Volume 2. My Inner Control Freak is telling me that Volume 2 is right around the corner and it has got to be great, fulfilling, amazing and ready at the start. “Focus on the Future!!’ she screams. But my wiser, calmer, most intuitive self, says, “Woah, Nelly. Let’s just breathe. Let’s just focus on the tasks at hand. All that you need to do right now is to Finish Strong. Volume 2 will take care of itself, in many, many ways, just like Volume 1 did, when you reflect back on it.”

I am proud of Volume 1 of my Adulthood. The protagonist is an interesting character. She has grown a lot. She has lived a lot of her goals and her dreams and her plans, and yet she has also been open enough to take some new directions that life’s storms and surprises have imposed upon her. She is about to put the finishing touches on the first half of her adult life. She is proud of her accomplishments, achievements, and evolvement. She has learned from many mistakes, and she realizes that she is strong, and resilient and open-minded enough to learn from the future lessons that are bound to arrive in Volume 2. Mostly, though, the protagonist, while closing out the first volume of her adult life, is in savor mode. She is savoring what she has created for herself, what she has co-created with others, and she is grateful. So very grateful. And in that spirit of thankfulness, and brimming with love and awe, she is doing what she must do. She is finishing strong.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Adultiest Adults

I love this tweet. Never has this fact been more evident than throughout this damn pandemic. Right??? Here are some of the Comments to go along with this tweet:

“Peak adulthood is realizing that your parents were just winging it, too.” -@mjonesonline

“Oddly comforting, isn’t it?” @allisonching1

“Middle age is looking around for an “adultier adult” and realize everyone else is doing the same but they’re all looking at you. Because you ARE the adultiest adult present.” @getoffmylawn585

I recently did some self-reflection on this annoying thing that I do to my kids lately. It’s not charming, or “loving mommy” of me at all. (but honestly, I don’t see myself quitting it, anytime soon) Whenever my kids (ages 17 and up) have to do something exasperating that I used to do for them, such as calling customer service lines, and then waiting in the queue for 3.8 hours, and then having to speak to someone who doesn’t seem to understand English, and then being afraid to complain about this fact because it might get them “cancelled”, I just say this, with a quirky little smirk on my face:

“Welcome to adulthood!!” (and then I do this irritating laugh)

When my kids have to pay for something ridiculous, like paying an extra fee and some taxes for a permit for something that is required for a class that they’d rather not have to take in the first place, or when they complain about having to pay for things such as “batteries that aren’t included”:

I reliably chirp, “Welcome to adulthood!!”

Talk about being forced into a club that you never really wanted to join in the first place. And then looking around and going, “Wait, these are “the adults”?!? Seriously?!?”

On our walk last night, my husband and I were having a conversation, trying to make sense of the new round of COVID variants/mask rules/vaccine requirements/infection rates/school and work plans, etc., that seem to be all new, just for this week. Detaching and listening to our conversation, I had to giggle. We were repeating “news”, “conspiracy ideas”, things that we had “heard” in grocery store lines, work mandate memo updates, rumors from friends and neighbors, things that we had read on social media, etc. All of what we were saying to each other was completely convoluted. All of it contradicted each other. All of it was overwhelming and scary and frustrating and maddening. And of course, we both said all of it, with an air of solemn, all-knowing authority.

Welcome to adulthood.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.