Thursday, April 14

Adulting

Lately, I'm frequently being reminded that I'm actively participating in the world of being an adult.... adulting, if you will.

Has "adulting" always been a word that I'm just now becoming aware of because I've reached a certain point in my life that it applies?  Like when you buy a new vehicle, magically that very same make and model is every.where you look. Or is this noun, verb turned to be something created within the generation of hashtags?


Regardless, this roll of adulting is proving to be a lot more involved than I imagined. It seems as though I've romanticized this whole experience based on the idea of being able to call the shots on important things such as bed times, having babies, picking which toilet paper brands, and my own limitless ice cream consumption.

Interestingly enough, it's turing out to be a little more detailed than that.


I guess it could be argued I've been in this roll for some time now. Recently though, there seems to have been a string of not-so-fun-events that have gone on, crossing a larger span of time than I would prefer, seriously though I've been chalking it up to something just needing a little time to correct itself.

But then the other day when I was talking to one of my friends and we were ping ponging some worries beyond the stresses of our day to day, of it dawned on me, this very well could just be a new part of life we're phasing into.

And if that's the case, it makes me wonder if the denseness of the last few year's experience is only because it's been the most consistent with 'harder emotions' than ever before. Like when a light turns on in a dark room, the brightness seems so severe at first, but you grow accustom to it's glow as you adjust to its presents.



Honestly, I feel very very hesitant to accept this as part of a norm on being an adult, so less simple, so more raw.

Does this also mean I'm rather foolish to think I'm anything but scratching the surface when it comes to what dealing with life as an adult consists of. Phasing into the more of it, can it really be easier to accept the unpleasant the more the unpleasant makes itself known? Is this the very thing people get jaded from? How the glass gets half empty? Where rainbows don't lead to pots of gold and leprechauns don't really live? When cynical takes root? Why people can sleep at night, without a second thought to the disgusting change of the green skittles to green apple flavor, instead of keeping them as the disliked, but tolerated lime?!?!?




"Clearly this is my panic talking and it certainly feels like a sad state of affairs if that is the case when it comes to participating in this newly ventured age of adulting. And who likes the state of sad? No one, that's who."

So now, I'm looking to foster a sense of relief in the attempt to counter and rally my natural instinct to have the majority of my days spent productively involved in a good time, all the time. Because turns out the specifics of adulting also involve loudly lip syncing to Janis Joplin during school drop off without regret regarding middle school child embarrassment, bonfires that are dangerously too large, legitimately needing a reason for business cards, attempts at cow tipping, and refusing to wear shoes for the simple fact being, I don't wanna, because I am an adult after all.



Monday, January 11

Dear Wesley. {13 years old}

I skipped your 12 year old post. Don't think for a minute it was because I forgot. Or didn't have the time. It was life. That's it. That's all..... I know, such a broad stroke to make as a dismissive 'didn't'.... But that's how it's going to be...for here, for now.

Every time I sat to write, all those drafts I never finished.... the weight was too much, the words lead in a way in which I didn't want your birthday post to be, but the realness of life's heavy unintentionally wades its ways at times, so I wrote nothing, left room for air, waited it out if you will.

So here I am, with you at 13 year's old and me wondering just how exactly that happened.

I'm sure I'll regret having ever put this out from inside my head, but I feel like I've 'got this' at this age stage of the Mumma game. Maybe it's because I've coached this age demographic for so long or it's the general mentality I can relate to the best.... Either way, I feel more comfortable and certain in this phase of parenting than I have in any other so far.

I think you've realized that Daddy and I are ok, funny people.
I expect you to forget that for awhile here soon too.

I think we do ok, you and I. We don't talk much about the personal details of your day, I don't inquisitively invade and you don't gabbingly offer. Our relationship is good, I love how you catch me off guard with your subtle wit and quick humor. Your oddity in imagination mirrors my own. I hope you never lose that quirk in you that makes other feel like they can't quite relate. It's not a part of myself I ever felt was worth changing to make others more accepting of me, I hope you find that too.


You're such a good kid and generally always happy, I sometime am harder on you with my short patience when you're more challenging, not your naturally easy going self. I'm aware this isn't fair of me, I'm working on it.

You've started to test the waters of talking back and I can't say my initial response to this hasn't been a little harsh. You're a teenage, it's what you do, it's what I should expect. If you're to test these boundaries as minimally as you do, I should be thankful it's with me you're doing it with.
And I am.

I worry about some of the things that are making you aware to the cruelty of life and wonder am I doing the best by how I'm leading you through them?  The devil on my shoulder constantly tells me I'm not doing you right by accepting the bad so quickly without much question, acknowledging  to the point of complete opposite of dwell. Maybe the dealing and feeling of the less than fun should have more time spent under it's gloom.

I don't anguish about the poor choices you are bound to make, I worry more about if you'll learn from them enough the first time you make them.

I'm winging it here, Bubby. And I'm only hoping hindsight doesn't answer these concerns in a radical way for me.

Your hair's way long and you're the smallest in your class. You're kind, messy, happy, annoying, lazy, funny, and not at all considerate outside of your sense of self.... I expect I'll be thankful if that's exactly how you remain through this embarkment of teen, but I expect I'm only fooling myself with the thought that this is at all possible to consistently remain.

You're loved, looked up to, and always our Bubby, but Dude, you're 13. Seriously. Just how exactly did this happen?





xoxo,
Yo'Mumma






Thursday, September 17

Hell Of A Time

I've mentioned before how I've been caught between this place of "what the hell?" and "hell ya!"

It's like I've been try to pull a mental trick of the hand.
If I focus on having a good time, all the time, the life's bad wouldn't want to interrupt me, it would see I'm too busy for it, leave me alone, let me be.

I know it's an avoidance habit I developed a long time ago.
Delay the process of harsher life's realities, by running full speed in a good time guided direction.

I don't see this as a bad thing in myself, in fact I think I would have been more susceptible to indulging in self pity had I let myself spend too much time in the less than ideal of life's wake.





But recently, I've been slowing my mental self down, unknowingly at first and desperately as of lately.



You know how sometimes you don't know how thirsty you are until you start to take a drink, then you're body instinctively takes over and before you know it you're guzzling straight from that milk carton like your hydration levels well..... depend on it....

That's how I felt this year on our family's annual vacation to Well's Beach, I didn't realize how much I needed to draw from being surrounded by my family, until I was submerged within it's core.



My cousin referred to it as a "soul feeding" and truly, it was just that.

I've been sitting here for the last 10 minutes trying to figure out the best way to describe my family's ora, but typing words to read like "predictable", "even", "unhurried" and "passive" don't support the feeling I'm trying to convey of an environment provided to allow yourself to be unguardedly simple.



This was a month back now, but I've been steadily pulling from it since.






Although our family's "what the hell?" hurdles haven't been unavoidable, I'm finding my distraction tactics have also allowed my confidence to simultaneously be chipped away.    

 This morning I woke feeling like I've got my feet back on the ground. Feeling as if my center is working itself back to certain...... I've really missed this part of me in a"hell ya!" kind of way.







Thursday, April 9

Dear Blog, it's not you, it's me.

Hello there, strange space.
Being here right now, I feel a level of uncomfortableness.
I'm tentative and unsure.
Like bumping into a once close friend you can't remember exactly why you don't talk as much anymore, but have a lingering feeling the guilt lays mostly on you.



So I feel this awkward stammering of talk taking place right now... Where you politely ask me, "how've you been" and I politely answer "great! busy, but good!".... when really life's been filled with so much more than those four dismissive words and my whole being want to bust at the seams, verbally spewing all my hearts triumphs and trials.


One of those times where I talk too fast, jump topics too quickly, and hardly make much sense.
Purge without consequence and laugh within the comfort we once shared.


The last time I wrote here, I felt ready to process some of life's struggles and strengths, since then, life tore my heart apart the worst it ever has. Delaying it all.

But I'm making the initial effort now to get back to where we once were.


I feel like this is a very "it's not you, it's me" cliche post, but cut me some slack for trying would you.

So with all that being said, in a nut shell things really are good, busy, but good. I've been questioning my ability to be a mother, been working hard, playing harder, sleeping more, laughing often, crying less, struggling to find the balance and have fallen back on the ol' "fend for yourself" supper offerings a few too many times lately.


But we're good, happy, plugging away with the steady as we go approach and am looking forward to getting back together here again very soon.


LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
© 2014 All text and images on this blog are property of Samantha Richardson.
I encourage you to share from the site and link as you please, I just ask that you give credit where credit is due.
Kudos!