My husband and I recently went on a trip, just the two of us. One morning, I went to get Starbucks to surprise my husband before he woke up. As I stepped into the elevator, I had an epiphany: I love being an adult. These were the little moments I dreamed of.
Being an adult is both weird and wonderful.
One minute, you’re asking for permission to get Starbucks at Target; then in a blink of an eye, you’re sneaking out to surprise your loved one with coffee. It’s also a roller coaster ride. You may be riding by yourself, a person of your choosing, or even a whole group of people. Regardless, it’s filled with ups, downs, twists, and turns and even some breakdowns.
I feel like I have finally found my way into adulthood.
Everyone’s experience into adulthood is different. During my son’s first few years of life, my husband was finishing grad school. We didn’t have a lot of money and time. I didn’t feel like we finally made it into adulthood until last year. The stress of balancing my job, motherhood, and picking up extra work because my husband was studying was a lot and not always fun. My step into adulthood came later in life when we were both officially done with college.
Some moms may feel like their journey into adulthood started much earlier. That’s the neat part about a journey: everyone’s experience is different. We are starting the mid-life chapter of our lives and it feels so good.
My favorite quote from my favorite show is, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them” (Andy Bernard, The Office). That quote has stayed in the back of my mind through each chapter of my life. We all experience different chapters at different times. The baby chapter is wonderful and hard, the toddler chapter is even harder, but they are all special and good in their own ways.
These little moments — the first steps, the first words, and the first day of school — are all moments we dreamed of. Some moms may have experienced these with different timings, but they are all special moments.
