As you get older, birthdays aren’t as fun anymore. In a couple of months I’ll be entering my last year as a “twenty-something” and I still refuse to admit that I’m an adult. Because the truth is, most days I don’t feel like it. Even more truth? I suck at adulting.
Why do I suck at adulting?
I laugh at the wrong times. When my kid is having a meltdown in her carseat because I made her hold my hand in the parking lot. When my son quotes Home Alone and says “Why the hell you dressed like a chicken?” I laugh. It’s funny! I know, I’m supposed to be stern and responsible and do the right thing or something. I just can’t.
I’m bad at saving money. I have what some may call a shopping problem, not only for myself but for other people. I love to shop and get people gifts, the kids new clothes, etc. So any time there’s extra money and I should be saving, I don’t.
I don’t invest. I don’t even get how to do this. Moving on.
I haven’t thought about retirement. I feel like I may have been a gypsy in a past life or something. I just don’t think ahead to things like that. Which is strange considering I love to plan things but apparently I just don’t care to plan as much as I used to. With our lifestyle and having two toddlers, plans usually go out the window anyways.
My house is usually a mess. I try, I really try to keep it clean. But two adults, two kids, two dogs, and two cats… yeah, it’s a zoo. It’s not dirty like there’s mold, garbage, or crumbs everywhere (well maybe the crumbs) but there’s just a lot of stuff in random places at all times. I’m usually taking something out of someone’s hand and putting it back in the wrong place. Or my blogging packages just take up an entire side of the room. Maybe one day I’ll find the time to have a spotless house. Maybe…
I like to stay home. I love the idea of going to events, parties, and get-togethers. But when it actually comes down to it, I’d rather just sit home most of the time. Maybe it’s because by the time we find a babysitter, rush to get ready and think about the butt crack of dawn wake-up call we’re about to get from our kids, it just doesn’t sound so fun anymore. Give me some Redds Strawberry Ale, Homestyle popcorn and Netflix and I’m good to go.
I don’t eat balanced meals. And sometimes, I don’t eat meals at all. I eat the leftover chicken nuggets on my kid’s plate or I grab a bag of pretzels to take in the car. I very rarely get to sit down and have a meal because we’re always rushing to be somewhere or I’m trying to get work done while they’re sitting down for five minutes.
I’m not a morning person. Like, I seriously hate mornings. There was a small time period in my life where I think I liked them; it was back when I was working out before work and the endorphins made me happy. And happy people just don’t kill their husbands (name that movie…) But for real, that didn’t last long and I still hated waking up early to go to the gym. Don’t talk to me unless I’ve had like three cups of coffee. Just don’t.
And there’s probably a million other things I suck at when it comes to adulting but I’m running late and lost my train of thought. Exhibit B.
Do you suck at adulting? Let me hear it!