I DON'T WANT TO ADULT TODAY

I have seen several memes lately about “adult-ing.”  Many of them are quite funny. Check out the few I have listed here.






Pretty good huh?

I have come to think that most things I find funny are because many of them are terrifyingly close to the truth.  How many days have you had similar thoughts just like those above?  Maybe your brain didn’t process them exactly the way they are printed, but you’ve had these thoughts, right?  Go ahead, admit it.  It’s okay.

Teaching 8th graders for a little over 10 years, I particularly LOVE the teenager one.  But, as I read and closely relate to these memes, I am reminded of my own children who periodically talk about how they don’t want to “third grade” or “fifth grade” anymore because school is too hard or there aren’t enough recesses.  To me, their complaints seem unreal.  I will kill to be a third or fifth grader!!  I would love for my hardest decision of the day to be whether I choose chocolate or white milk as I go through the lunch line.  I would love to have the energy of my elementary years back.  I would love to be that small again – it’s been so long ago it almost doesn’t seem possible that I ever wore clothes that size!  I want to make a fort and not be considered immature because I did.  All those things and more – I want!!  And yet, if I was back to that age, I know I wouldn’t appreciate them just as my boys don’t appreciate where they are now either.

No matter what stage of life we are in, we’re going to find reasons to complain.  Both my boys hate to go to school every day.  You know where they are – that stage where they can’t wait for winter so there’s the possibility of school being cancelled on account of snow?  But even as easy as I think their lives are, they come home with sob stories as to why their life is awful and how hard it is to “third or fifth grade” it these days.  In fact, I have actually had both these conversations with my youngest.

Third grader:  Mom, I can’t go to school today
Me:  Why not?
Third grader:  My butt hurts too bad.  The chairs at school are so hard it hurts my butt and it’s still hurting this morning, so I don’t think I should go to school today.

Or…

Third grader: Mom, I got sick at school today
Me:  You did?  What happened?  Did you throw up or have an upset stomach?
Third grader:  I didn’t throw up, but my stomach hurt for a while.  I think it was because I ate my pencil or it was because we had Spanish today.  I think Spanish makes me sick.

You may laugh (as did I as he was lamenting his life) but I know I am guilty of thinking similar thoughts.  I might be socially astute enough to not say them some of them out loud, but deep down, I have basically made up these excuses:

SCENARIO 1:
It’s supper time and though I have hamburger or chicken, it isn’t thawed.  Because thawing meat is SUCH a chore (I mean come on, it requires punching buttons on a microwave which is completely exhausting…)I decide the best thing to do for supper is order a pizza from the Hut.

SCENARIO 2:
I’ve washed the clothes.  I’ve folded the clothes.  I’ve separated the clothes into individual baskets for each family member.  However, putting the clothes away in the drawers and closets has now become the chore that becomes impossible for me to accomplish.  It can’t be done because, it would no doubt cause too many trips up the stairs and take way too long to do. Who has 15 minutes for this final chore?  Obviously, not me.   Get the kids to do it themselves? Nope, not a battle/conversation I feel like having today.  So, instead of being the good laundry mom, I make my family retrieve their clean clothes from their sorted baskets for the week.  At least now, when the week is over and it’s time to laundry again, my baskets are already situated and good to go for the next load. 

SCENARIO 3:
I have a list as long as my arm of things that need to be done…yesterday.  In fact, even starting to tackle the list freaks me out a little bit because there’s so much to do.  I get the kids off to school and come home to tackle this mountain of work only to have my phone notify me of a comment or post on Facebook which then causes me to spend the next hour replying or reading Facebook related posts or articles. Such an efficient use of time, wouldn’t you agree?

Yeup.  My kid has nothing on me.  I am the responsible adult and yet I have my own “chairs-are-too-hard-butt is bruised-Spanish-makes-you-sick” excuses myself.  So really, why were his words so ridiculous and funny to me?


I really do want to be superwoman, but for now I think I’ll just eat my pizza while the washer is running and check my Facebook – and maybe I’ll do it all in a pillow fort.  I can try “adulting” again tomorrow.

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