Whether I Like it or Not

Growing up stinks.

I'm not always a fan of this grown up thing.

Some days, I wish I weren't a grown up.

I miss the days of no responsibility, having someone to tell me what I should do, and no real problems.

But now I am a grown up.

I have to be responsible for at least 3 other people every day. I have to take care of them, I have to feed them, I have to make sure that they don't smell (remember, I have boys). And Forest is a pretty big responsibility. Not that I have to take care of him as if he were a child, but the married part is a responsibility. When you throw in 3 dogs, 2 cats, and a house that must be taken care of (more responsibility), I have way to much to be responsible for. And I haven't even mentioned the fact that I'm a full time student- when done right, lots of responsibility.

And not that responsibility automatically makes me a grown up, it's how I choose to deal with my responsibilities that make me a grown up.

Long story short, I don't always enjoy being the responsible one, the grown up one. But when I try being the one who doesn't care or the irresponsible one, it never works out. That's just not who I am. But I do wish, from time to time, that there was someone who would tell me what to do. Make decisions for me.

And when I really need a grown up, someone's always there for me.

The road to grown up land has been long, winding, and dangerous. I really fought my way to be there. And now that I'm here, the view isn't half bad. Yeah, there are some unfun things about being a grown up, but there are even more wonderful things about it.

Looking at the good and the bad, the hard and the fun, the struggles and the ease of growing up, it's no wonder that I'm having a hard time with my boys growing up. From one day to the next, I don't know who my children will be. I believe with me whole heart that they will grow up to be fine young men and that is the thought that will get me through it all. 10 and 11 don't sound very old and sounds like I should stop worrying about the growing up. But I see them growing every day. Some days it's with great joy, and others it's a nightmare. But it's happening. No matter what I want, they are not my babies anymore.

Every night I pray that their growing up will be easier than mine was.

But I also know that I can't want anything bad enough for them if it's not what they want.

Mostly I know, that whether I like it or not, they are growing up, winding down that road. Though I don't know where that road will lead them, they will be ok. And so will I.