Bringing Home the Bacon

As we’ve already learned, this year has seen me transition into the role of “full-fledged grown up.” [jump for joy!]

But let me tell you: adulthood is not what I pictured.

See, as a kid of 6 who longed to be a farmer [because, you know, baby ducks are cute…and what the hey, it sounded like fun], I imagined that even in adulthood my parents would be there to make decisions for me. I mean, they made most decisions for me at that point in life, so naturally that was an indication of what would happen for the rest of my days, right? Wrong.

And, when I matured into adolescence, I remember people asking me: “Where will you live when you’re an adult?” Well, I would naturally scoff and tell them, [pre-teen hair flip] “Wherever my husband wants to live, duh!” See, I abandoned the silly notion that my parents would make decisions for me as an adult, but instead adopted the idea that my big, strong, sure-to-exist-by-the-time-I-was-20 man would be calling the shots. Wrong again.

Yeah. Adulthood isn’t quite shaking out how I thought it would.

I’ve talked to quite a few friends recently who have gone through similar mental adjustments in the process of growing up. See, I never imagined this stage of life looking the way it does for me right now.

How do I say this…? I always thought I would benefit from the freedoms of adulthood without having to worry about the responsibilities.

Obviously I knew that adulthood brought with it electric bills and car repairs and loan payments [oh-so-many loan payments]. But I didn’t think I’d be the one having to worry about those things.

Instead, I thought I’d just get to take advantage of the good stuff like having a kick-butt apartment and not having to go to school and making [relatively] lots of money.

I wanted the freedoms but didn’t imagine that I’d have to take on the responsibilities.

We can go ahead and blame this on my obtuseness or my millennial-ness or whatever. Obviously there was some logical disconnect there. But honestly, I always imagined that by this stage of life there would be someone else around to take care of those not-so-fun responsibilities.

I’m glad that hasn’t been the case. Taking on both the responsibilities and freedoms of adult life on my own has taught me so much. There is a sense of self-confidence that comes from knowing that I can reasonably deal with the task of, you know, keeping myself alive. Handling all these responsibilities has also given me a greater sense of dependence on God to provide where otherwise I have relied on others.

And yeah, I get to enjoy the freedoms of adulthood, too, which has been great. It’s my prerogative to make some of these decisions for myself. If I want to have bacon for dinner, ain’t nobody gonna stop me!

But you see, I’ve learned an even greater lesson than that. These were responsibilities I would have had to learn to deal with no matter what. If I were married or if I had moved back in with my parents [assuming, of course, that my family actually had a home…we’re loveably nomadic in that way], I still would have had to take on the responsibility of adulthood. It’s not something you escape just because other people share in the burden. The lesson of handling adult responsibilities isn’t a lesson that is exclusive to those living on their own.

Are there days that I wish I had someone else figuring it out for me? Absolutely!

But I have to stop and realize in these moments that there are so many people figuring it out with me, and that’s a beautiful thing.

It’s a beautiful thing when Gina and Rachel send me recipes each week for things like cronuts and brussel sprout tacos and root beer ice cream that I never would have thought to try otherwise.

It’s a beautiful thing when I can call my parents and get their advice on whether or not my car will survive the cross-country road trip I am planning this summer, despite the 250,000 miles it already has on it.

It’s a beautiful thing when Kelley and I have to scrape together our rent money each month and pay our adorable Italian landlord so that we can continue to live in our kick-butt apartment.

It’s a beautiful thing when I get to figure out life as an adult alongside dozens of other friends also figuring out what it means to walk faithfully through this season of life.

5 Signs You’ve Become a Grown Up

The turn of the new year has brought lots of changes to my life, such as graduation from grad school and a move to a new apartment. As I have navigated these changes (with the grace of a swan, mind you…. maybe a drowning swan, but a swan nonetheless!), I have slowly realized something: I am a grown up.

For a long time now I’ve been talking about the nebulous future of “adulthood” as if it would never arrive. I’ve struggled against growing up with the ferocity of Peter Pan staking his claim on Neverland, only to turn around the next day and giddily put on my heels and pearls as I head to the office for my exciting big kid job. A living conundrum, I tell you!

So, how did I come to the grand realization that adulthood had already been thrust upon me, you ask? Well, I’m glad your curious mind wants to know!

Here are five sure-fire ways to know you are an adult:

1. You cook meals at home more often than you eat out

This one has been a slow transition for me, with a long period of time where I let my sister do most of the cooking when she lived with me last year. It was really the best of both worlds since I got home cooked meals, but had to do none of the work. When she moved out this summer, I began cooking for myself in earnest, and now there are few things I enjoy more. It’s not an exact science, as you may have noticed in my last post (shameless, she is!), but it is definitely developing into a passion of mine. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy the occasional late-night trip to Taco Bell. I mean, let’s not get too crazy here.

2. Your wardrobe has less t-shirts and more “hand-wash only” shirts

I recently cleaned out my wardrobe and got rid of an insane amount of t-shirts. You know the ones I’m talking about… like that shirt from the 5K you never ran, but hey, it was free swag! That’s all well and fine until people start inviting you to be their running buddy. Yeah, that ain’t happening. Now most of my shirts need to be ironed or hung up or dry-cleaned. Vastly more expensive, sure, but so worth it because they make me feel like a freaking lady.

3. You start consistently going to bed before midnight

I never thought I’d see the day when I began to wane at 9 PM. Now sure, I still stay up past 11 PM most nights, but those last couple hours are comparable to finishing a Chipotle burrito… you want to do it, you know you can do it, but you experience instant regret when you’re done. As I close my eyes to fall asleep at 11:30ish every night, my last thought is usually something along the lines of: Why didn’t I go to bed two hours ago? Ughhhhhhhh.

4. You can handle grown up problems like a boss

Now, I’ve always been a little more confident than was healthy, and as a kid that was not the best of things because I was still figuring out how to express that well. Let’s just say that I was frequently the bossiest kid on the playground. However, I found I have grown into that confidence as I’ve had to handle some actual, real life, grown up problems. For example, when there’s a minor life-threatening gas leak in your new apartment, it’s ok to have the gas company come to check it out and then confidently tell your landlord what needs to be done to fix the problem. It is also ok to supervise your adorable 70-year-old Italian landlord as he fixes the problem to make sure you feel safe in your home. Confidence is mostly ok as long as you are not pushing a kid off the swing-set.

5. You begin to grumble about stuff like a cranky old man

I have had absolutely legitimate, totally real conversations that occurred as follows*:

Younger Friend: Wow! Look at this really cool new thing that exists!
Becca: …grumble, grumble…. Back in my day! … grumble… we had to make sure no one was on the phone before using the internet, and …grumble… we didn’t have whole seasons of TV at the tips of our fingers, we had to learn patience while we waited for the new season of Hey, Arnold! …grumble, grumble… good-for-nothing whippersnappers nowadays, think they can just text away their problems …grumble… Think there’s an app for everything? What about nature and the great outdoors, huh, where’s the app for that?
Younger Friend: But… Instagram.
Becca: …grumble…

So there you have it, folks. Proof that growing up happens to the best of us, and that it can in fact be an adventure worth taking. It seems fitting to quote Peter Pan at this point, who was obviously wise beyond his boyhood years: “To live would be an awfully big adventure.”

And live I shall.

 

* Ok, so the actual conversation may have been more like this:
Younger Friend: Look! Pictures!
Becca: Huh? I don’t get it.
Younger Friend: This is Instagram.
Becca: Oh, cool.