Sometimes I feel like being a child is a bit of a sham. You spend that whole time seeing adults and they make adulting look freaking AMAZING. All you want to do is be an adult. You play games where you pretend to be adults, you play with toys that are adults – even if they are unrealistic ones (I’m looking at you Barbie.)- and you think about how awesome life will be when you are an adult.
You grow a little, you’re an adolescent, and that’s when you get the first clue that adulting may not be as fun as you thought it might be. At this point you have chores (a job), more and more homework (responsibilities), you are worried about who likes whom (interpersonal relationships – drama), and you have to go to bed and get up every day to do the same stuff (school). At this point some kids realize that adults may have been lying this whole time and others still think once they are grown and out of school the world will be their oyster…
…and sometimes they learn it’s a rotten oyster (Do oyster rot?). You get to college and it’s clear that adults have been lying. While trying to not fail at college you’re holding down 1 (2…3…) job(s) and trying to be a person as well. You get the idea that your time isn’t really your own, and that starts to become ok…not really, but ok.
And now you’re out of college working in the field you have just spent or borrowed thousands upon thousands for (Maybe? Or maybe you’re working where you can get a pay check since that fancy piece of paper didn’t yield the end result you expected…). You wake up every day and go to work, you come home, eat, goof off a bit (write in your Bullet Journal or your newly formed blog), and then you go to bed and repeat.
Was this what the adults of my childhood were doing? Did they have these same down thoughts that I am having today. They made adulting look so much cooler than what I am experiencing. But, on the other hand, I did just eat some Girl Scout Cookies (Caramel deLites – my favorite) because I wanted to. I went and bought these cute little owl hand warmers, because I make my own money and can buy that kind of whimsical crap. I get to listen to whatever I want on the radio in my car (in my case an Pod Cast or audio book). I can go to bed whenever I want…while understanding the ramifications of that choice. I can buy as much Harry Potter stuff as I want (job…again)!
So maybe the problem isn’t that I/we feel lied to once we cross the bridge to adulthood, maybe we just loose sight of those simple pleasures of childhood. As a kid my family couldn’t afford whimsical things, they were a waste of money. I had NO – NONE…ZERO- control over the radio, which is something I always hated. Bed time, hello, the bane of every kids’ existence is somewhat nonexistent for us. And oh, sweet Order of Merlin First Class, I can buy anything I want (after I have covered the necessities in my life of course) that has even the remotest of connection to The Boy Who Lived.
Maybe the joy of being an adult, even when adulting sucks big time (like today for me…), is that we have the luxury and means (for the most part…) of indulging our inner child. We can finally have those things we so coveted as children. The problem is, now, somehow we want more and simultaneously we don’t appreciate what we have.
Now I am going to go to bed and take my fun wool socks that I also bought today with me. I will brush my teeth, hop into bed, read a little, then pass out.
Being an adult doesn’t seem so bad now…