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Showing posts from January, 2013

Disillusionment of Adulthood

Now that I’m in my 30’s, I must confess to disillusionment.  Growing up, I had ideas of what adulthood would be like.  I’m here, and it’s not entirely what I’d imagined.
For starters, I remember growing up amidst all the drama that comes with, well, growing up.  The gossip.  The hurt feelings.  The misunderstandings.  The fights between friends.  The back-stabbing.  And I remember being told that it would get better.  I’m not sure who told me that, but they were clearly wrong.
The drama may look a little different.  The words may sound a little different.  But the anguish of relationships remains.
Adults hurt each other’s feelings—intentionally and unintentionally. Adults nitpick and cause fights over inconsequential issues. Adults gossip. Adults cry, scream, and pitch fits. Adults build relational alliances, competing in “us vs. them” relational war. Adults let issues build and exponentially swell until they explode. Adults rarely identify the actual issue instead of the presenting issue. Adul…

I'm a girl...and an adult.

I’m a girl…and an adult.
Both of those nouns scare me.
First, the girl piece.  I’ve always been girly.  I like clothes, make-up, decorating, jewelry, painting my nails, and wearing high heels.  I was a dancer and a cheerleader.  I’m a wife and a mom.  I’m most definitely a girl.
But, I’m not so good at relating with girls.  Girls scare me.  Every female knows how scary other females are.  It’s why girls are so emotionally tough; they terrorize each other from preschool on up.  And when I’m around really girly girls, with the tossing of hair, the perfect faces and magazine-cover homes, the giggling, the shrieking—I feel very uncomfortable.
I also get turned off by talk of what girls are like versus what guys are like.  Of course there are some generalities.  But, for example, I know females who’d rather watch live sports than reality TV and action movies than chick flicks.  I also know guys who are sensitive and caring, and girls who are locked-up blocks of ice.
Those aren’t the only reason…

The Grocery Store

I vividly remember being in college, having a small, fixed income, and going grocery shopping all by myself with my money.  I loved it.  I loved the freedom of bypassing the fruit stands and going straight for the Kraft macaroni and cheese, the popcorn, the Cup O' Noodles, the Tostitos and salsa (I have a love affair with salt if you cannot tell.), and the cereal.  The diet of a college student.

It was fun and empowering.  I felt so independent.

Now, grocery shopping is a little different.  I think almost every mom can identify with my dread of grocery shopping with a preschooler and toddler in tow.  We've all been "that mom"--the one with the crying kid, the runaway kid, the kid who's grabbing food items off the shelves (usually on the candy aisle).  

"Going to the grocery store" has become iconic in our household.  When my 4-year-old wants asks from the backseat, "Where are we going," my husband often replies, "the grocery store."  Th…