The question is…when is the first moment you knew you were a grown-up?
Now, before you read mine, think in your head…what was yours? Even if you never considered the question before, consider it now.
Like most people, I suppose I could give a number of answers to this question. My first night in college. The day I eulogized my brother. The birth of my daughter. Wedding day. Graduation.
I think, though, that my first instinctual answer is the right one: my first day of my first year teaching. I had never before experienced that do-or-die kind of moment, where years of hard work and dreaming reached their pinnacle, and you were just…out there. That’s what I’m pondering this week.
I’m also going to tell the story of Mom and Auntie in Times Square (Yes, really), and I have yet to share about my reunion. Those are coming forthwith.
Today I went to Kohl’s all by myself for two hours and I looooooved it. I tried on 27 bras and walked really slowly through every department. In addition, I hung out with Patrick on the front porch. I played Rummy 500 with Amelia, I cleaned out my closet, I read some of my book, I made a chicken dinner, and washed and folded three loads of laundry. I watched Murphy’s Romance while I worked on the laundry and cleaned out several bureau drawers. Later we had family movie time, and I utterly shirked like four other things I really intended to do today. I’ll get to them tomorrow for sure. In the past weeks, I think I ran out of energy, and today I chose things that put energy in and took energy out, in equal measure. And being able to sit here now and write this while Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire play in the background and the ice crackles in my gin and tonic definitely pushes the balance to the sunny side.