I realised the other day, when hanging out with a group of awesome teens at a camp for heart kids (is ‘hanging out’ still the cool term for it? See, this is the issue, right there!), that at some stage in the past however-many years, I have become, at least in the eyes of younger folk, A Grown Up.
Clearly, this hasn’t happened overnight, and I am well past the youthful days of yore, veering quite speedily into Late 30’s (I refuse to admit I might be there already). But for the huge majority of the time I still feel like Grown Up-Ness is quite a long way away. Clearly that is not the case.
So I have decided to make a list of things that make me feel like I have it together as a Grown Up, to remind myself that I am indeed there, at least on some days.
- Matching underwear. There is something about managing to find vaguely coordinating smalls in the morning rush which gives one a boost. Plus, if today is the day I find myself requiring emergency hospital consideration, am sure the healthcare wonderworkers will appreciate my attention to detail. This happens very infrequently though (the matching smalls, not the emergency care, thankfully).
- Lipstick. I am being brave and trying out some new colours at the moment. Matte ones, even. That’s Serious Lipstick. It’s a commitment, as I usually end up with that rather unattractive thin line around the edges as I forget I’ve put it on, drink the usual cups of coffee, and then do a double-take of horror when I glance in the mirror many hours later.
- Planting vegetables in pots on our tiny balcony. Unfortunately I usually end up killing said plants few short weeks later – I have no idea how or why. I have a number of friends who are very good with green things (another sign we are all getting older and becoming Grown Ups, I am sure), but even they can’t seem to help my hapless efforts. I’m learning to stick to seasonal plants, as then I don’t feel so terrible when they don’t last long.
- Buying autobiographies. I say ‘buy’. I very seldom actually read them. Having said that, David Hasslehoff’s notes on his life was a page turner. Seriously. Ah, the Hoff.
- Sending birthday cards on time. Not my strong point.
- Babysitting the Littles who have been made by my similar-aged friends. On purpose. I feel like a Grown Up, in charge of these Littles – right up to when we’re in the fort, discussing boogers and dinosaurs in depth.
I guess growing up is one of those things which just creep up on you. It’s only when you have a Much Younger Person address you as ‘Ma’am’, or you get lost in a conversation with said Younger People, confused by the liberal use of ‘cray cray’ and ‘like, you know’ peppered throughout, that you realise that you are, in fact, A Grown Up.
And on reflection, that’s not a bad thing at all.
Hope you have lovely Sundays, lovely callers!