Friday, March 16, 2012

Growing up is Hard to do, or How I Came to Fold Laundry at 10 p.m.

I was standing over the changing table last night, putting away prefolds and diaper inserts, and folding cloth wipes, when it hit me:

I am a fucking grown up.

I have a mortgage, I have a car payment, I have a lawn mower. And I have a son, who is peacefully sleeping while I'm up at 10 p.m., putting the diapers and wipes away because I sure as hell don't want to do it in the morning. And oh my fucking god, we're out of coffee? SERIOUSLY? How does this happen?

Part of me still feels like I'm still figuring it out, like I'm still the girl that moved here all by herself at 22. But this year I'll turn 30.

And I have a son. Did I mention that?

Oh, and we're out of French Roast.

2 comments:

nanc said...

Hi, and a very belated congratulation! I don't know if you recall but we met approx 2 years ago at a Yarn Harlot book sighning. I had my infant daughter with me. Anyhoo, congrats on your son (I just had my second daughter) and its good to see that you're doing well (albeit tired and without coffee).

Lisa said...

I love your blog! We have had a lot of similar experiences between unexpected C-sections and adventures in cloth diapers and breastfeeding. Adjusting my career plans has also been completely new territory. In any case- I'm enjoying your posts!