Growing Up

I recently read a blog post over at Scary Mommy's website. She had a guest blogger who wrote a post called, "How to Act Like A Grownup." She begins:

"Do you consider yourself grown up?
I don’t, not really. Yeah, I’ve got a husband, two kids, a dog and a house. But deep down, I still feel like a kid."

I read this beginning and completely identified with her. Rarely do I ever feel old enough or mature enough to have a house, a husband, a graduate degree, a KID for crying out loud! But, I do. And, I'm beyond grateful for these blessings. But, I still just feel like a kid myself. Sometimes I have to pinch myself as a reminder that I am a mommy, a wife, a homemaker. I'm not the 17 year old I once was who could sleep in, drive with blaring music and the windows down on a summer night, who could depend on Mom or Dad to pay that bill or make that appointment for me, etc. I miss those days!

The blog post continues with a discussion of how we have to grow up and take care of our responsibilities, that if we could just stay on top of the laundry, the dishes, the clutter, the chores - that we would be much happier and better parents. The author says we just need to actually become those responsible people we dreaded becoming when we were younger.

Now, while I have always understood this and know this to be true already, this is not where I feel the pangs of growing up. Of course I don't like to do any of these chores. I hate having to be responsible, but I also know that there's no way around it. This was not some epiphany for me, like it seems to be for the author of the above-mentioned post.

But, what I HAVE discovered is that taking responsibility and "growing up," means sucking it up when it comes to putting my needs and wants WAY behind Banner's. I had this epiphany at the zoo last weekend when I was soaking wet with sweat and had to change Banner in the small restroom while managing my camera dangling from my neck, the diaper bag hanging on my shoulder, the twisting, turning toddler on the pull-down changing table, the wet swimsuit sticking to Banner's body, and my composure which was hanging by a thread. You have to understand that I absolutely HATE being hot and/or sweaty. Hate it. Sam once learned the hard way as he put his arm around me in the early days of dating... he nearly ended up in the water when I shoved him from the Riverwalk pathway. (Oh, and my whole family was with us to witness it. Sorry, Sam!) But, I digress. Anyway, the point is, after reading this post on Scary Mommy, I guess it was fresh on my mind about being a "grown up." And, it was at that moment in the bathroom that I realized what being a grown up, or maybe being a parent meant to me.

There are numerous times a day when I have to say to myself, "Amber, get over it. Move on. Suck it up. You're a parent now, and this is what it means." I think this when I can't sleep in anymore; when I have to get Banner in and out of his freaking car seat in the 100+ degree weather while I'm schvitzing in the heat; when I make dinner and Banner doesn't eat it but I have to be calm and think of something else he'll try; or months ago when Banner would nap in my bed with me and I couldn't move for fear of waking him. I think this when Banner wakes up in the middle of the night crying; when he splatters food all over the floor; when I can't participate in conversation because I'm chasing my boy all over a non-babyproofed home; when I can't finish doing anything because Banner's up from his nap.

Don't get me wrong. Parenting is not all horrible. Not even close. I know it sounds like I'm being negative about it. I'm not. I'm being realistic. It's hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either doing it wrong or they're lying. I'm just admitting to the growing pains I've felt becoming a new kind of adult, a grown up with a child. This is what it means so many times a day - forgetting about what I really want (like taking a long shower with the shower door actually closed, like eating a meal slowly while not concentrating on cutting up someone else's meal, like leaving the house without thinking of every.single.thing I need to take with me to ensure I'm fully prepared for any kind of meltdown, accident, or incident, like enjoying a late dinner and NOT worrying about how late bedtime is going to be, like resting or relaxing when I'm not feeling well or am in pain, like pooping in private (yes, I said it), like eating something and not having to share it or explain why I can't) so that I can do what's best for Banner. There's no such thing as a quick errand, a restful night, a loud, blaring singing-session in the car, a worry-free night out. Those things just don't exist anymore since I became a parent.


So, growing up has been taken to a whole new level. It's not only about getting the sheets changed or the laundry put away. It's about doing so much more and getting so little appreciation. It's about giving up so much more and getting so little recognition. Yet, go figure... even though so much of it all sucks - this growing up thing - this parenting thing is totally cracked up to be what it is. I mean, if it weren't, who would do it? I've become a grown up, and sometimes that really sucks. I'm not 17 anymore - even if I feel like it or want to be. There are so many times when I'm giving myself that pep talk to "just grow up, move on" when I realize I have no choice, that I'm the only one who can do this (change a diaper, cook a meal, calm my baby, put him in his car seat, etc.). And then, I realize I wouldn't want anyone else in my place. I WANT to be the one doing these things. The pay off, the reward is like no other in the world. Watching this little baby grow to learn, to become a part of his family, to make friends and to make discoveries about his world, to give me kisses and hugs, to hold his daddy's hand, to be funny and silly and entertaining, to be happy and healthy - there's really nothing like it. And, for that, I'm beyond grateful and lucky to call myself a responsible grown-up.