Grown Up Moments

Ever have those moments where it hits you smack in the face that you are a grown up? Maybe turning a year older makes you take stock of where you sit, but somehow the changing of the years isn’t what gets me. When I look back, these are the “grown up” moments that really stand out:

- Signing papers on our first home purchase.

- Buying a vacuum.

- Getting on an airplane for my first business trip.

- Asking for and being totally excited about receiving a blender for Christmas.

- Leaving the hospital with a 2-day old Owen.

- Presenting at a professional conference.

- Going to my first Board Meeting for a local charity.

It’s funny how so many of the “grown up” things aren’t the monumental events in your life. Sure, buying a house is an obvious one, but getting married doesn’t make the list (good thing because we were SO YOUNG!). Giving birth isn’t on there either. Grown up moments are those seemingly insignificant events that smack you in the face at how NORMAL it is for you to be doing things that adults do. Yikes!

Today I had another grown up moment. First, I got ready for work by pulling on a new skirt and birthday present boots. I felt like a real adult, going to a real career job (one I’ve had for 10 years, mind you), knowing that I looked the part. I was wearing clothes I love, not just “work clothes” because I had to. In fact, right now, my work environment consists of me and one co-worker, so it’s not like I even HAVE to wear professional clothes. Chris wouldn’t care (or even notice) if I showed up in torn jeans and slippers, and my clients on the phone don’t know if I showered or not. No, I got dressed this morning because I WANTED to. Toss on a wool-ish trench coat, and professional Alissa walked out the door… with two kids, 3 lunches, a purse, my computer bag, a bag of coffee for the office, bills to mail, and a giant cardboard box to donate to the preschool. No matter, the clothes and attitude said professional… said grown up.

But the kicker, the moment that it struck me so solidly that I AM A GROWN UP, was crouching in the bathroom – same skirt, same boots – caring for my sick 3-year old just picked up early from preschool. I’m the adult in this situation. I’m the one making the decisions and cleaning up the messes. Even in my rockin’ boots, nobody can care for my son the way I can. I am the grown up.