[[Once a week I ask the same bleary-eyed question: “What about Wednesday?” It’s my day to post whatever the hell I feel like, with no regard to fashion, eco-consciousness or, occasionally, even coherent thoughts.]]

 
Outgrowing the Dream House by Stephanie Mercado

I don’t think that there are any definitive lines that help us determine when each of us has become an adult.  As the years pass, I don’t feel any less nervous about taking on big new responsibilities (like hosting Thanksgiving this year – my very first turkey!) and I’m still calling my mom for tips on taking care of the dog and framing oddly-sized pictures.  As scary as it seems, though, I think that the key is to embrace it: if I can find the fear in new things, then I can find the childlike wonder in them as well, whether I’m twenty-six or sixty-two.

Another part of getting older, for me, has been reinterpreting my impression of what “home” and “family” are.  I’m beginning to create my own traditions with my boyfriend – Christmas morning coffee with the pets; New Years as our makeshift anniversary – and trying to put my house together so it feels like a home, instead of just that place we sleep every night.  Our schedules and tastes are starting to mesh, to become complimentary, and my day-to-day world has begun to fall into a familiar groove.

Even without all that traditional stuff that society tells us makes a family (marriage, children) I’ve started to create the surroundings I hope to maintain for the rest of my life.

Now that’s grown up.

Still, even after I’ve bought my first house, decorated it with “big girl furniture,” started investing, rolled around in a few careers…I don’t think I’ll even feel like an ”adult,” or at least I won’t feel the way I thought adults felt when I was a kid.  I’ll be more capable, sure, and I’ll have a lot more experience under my belt – but when I look at the big picture, won’t I be having new experiences every day, until the day I die?

If so, then I don’t see any reason to worry about “being grown up.”  I’d rather embrace my fear of the unknown (will I give my family food poisoning trying to feed them turkey?) and let all these new experiences shock and overwhelm me than pretend everything is under control and nothing surprises me.  I’d rather feel that wonder, that awe and confusion, that urge to call mom for yet another token of advice, than get stagnant.

I’d rather use the holidays to create new traditions…and maybe, sometimes, break them.

Tags: adulthood, advice, childhood, family, growing up, home, tradition