Where I grow up

I’ve been doing some growing up lately.

Quite literally today, as it is my birthday. It’s only 9am and I’ve achieved the stunning feat of turning a whole year older. So that was exhausting and I’ve already excused myself from all other chores today.

But before today, before I erased the 2 and replaced it with a 3 on the back end of my twenty-somethings, I was moving towards this grown up self. Don’t worry, there is much of the grown up world that I refuse to adapt or adopt. For example, I am vehemently opposed to ever being “too old” for certain literature, or Disney songs, or food fights, or talking in an accent, or hide and seek, or trampolines.

However, there are a few grown up things that are necessary for now.

So as of this month as a pseudo grown up,

1. I use sunscreen daily (and by that I mean I am trying to use 30 SPF instead of 8 SPF… baby steps).

2. I wear non-booty jean shorts that come from the Misses’ section instead of the Juniors’ section (and by that I mean I have a mental breakdown in the Target dressing room when I realize that I can no longer appropriately wear shorts from the Juniors’ section. Because I’m married, and I’m a teacher, and it just seems fundamentally wrong to show that much thigh skin).

3. I take vitamins. The hard kind, not the chewy kind (and by that I mean I take a fish oil capsule every morning and some women’s multivitamins that I realized yesterday expired on 12/31/09).

So if you see me and my skin isn’t sunburned, my bones look strong from the extra calcium, my hair is shiny from the fish oil and my shorts are appropriate length, feel free to contribute it to being 23.

I’m also trying to be better about being on time. Which was never ever a problem for me before and I just figured out why. In high school I was always on time because if I wasn’t my whole team had to run laps. In college I was always on time because I could roll out of bed 10 minutes before class and get there in three minutes on my bike. (Yes, that does mean I wore yogapants/workout clothes 5 days a week). After college I was always on time because all I had to do to “go to work” was walk upstairs from my basement bedroom (one of the million perks of being a live-in Nanny). At Fort Leonard Wood I was always on time because a.) there were three stoplights in the town and b.) everything was within a five minute radius. But here, for the first time I’ve been LATE (gasp!) A LOT! The reason is I still am of the mindset that I can get anywhere I need to go in ten minutes. And in Fayetteville, that. just. doesn’t. happen.

So yesterday, I’m getting ready to head out the door to Bible study when I realize I haven’t eaten dinner. Shoot! Ok, I have time to throw together a smoothie. I make them healthy and they are quick and easy right? haha. Yeah.

So I whip out the Magic Bullet that we may or may not have registered for at Target, and throw in spinach, broccoli, kale, strawberries, a banana, greek yogurt, cottage cheese, egg whites, the works. At this point I’m only running two minutes behind so I would have been fine, but the Magic Bullet (MB) is the most unmagical appliance ever invented. I can trace 75% of my stress back to moments where I’m counting on the MB and it fails me. And yet I still trust it, trust that it will do ANY JOB IN 10 SECONDS OR LESS!! (Call now and we’ll throw in a free one!). I assume (silly me) that a mere eight months of use isn’t too much for such an appliance. Soon I have a massive smoothie leakage coming from the “guaranteed” machine. [four minutes behind] At this point I’ve gotten verbal, speaking to it, trying to convince it to do its job. I’m quite the pep talker normally but the MB just stares at me. In frustration I reach for a rag to clean up the smoothie mess and knock over the entire carton of cottage cheese. Of course it hits the floor on its side and explodes little cottage cheese balls all over. I mean all over. Like up my leg, in the cabinets (What? They weren’t even open!) all over the floor, under the oven (and we all know that’s a scary place). [7 minutes behind] Instead of yelling at MB, I give it my best mom-disappointed-face, which is typically way more effective. Still nothing. I’m trying to clean up the cottage cheese and realize how late I am. I decide that I will clean it up when I get home, and then I think no then Jeff will come home and there will be cottage cheese everywhere, and then I think ok so he’ll clean it up, and then no no no that’s so rude, and then ok so we’ll leave it and I’ll clean it up tomorrow, and then no, I don’t want to have to clean this up on my birthday, and then.. No pause. I for real thought that. I didn’t want to clean up cottage cheese on my birthday. Excuse me? Unreal- and so I end up cleaning it up right away. For the sake of Jeff and my birthday of course. [15 minutes behind].

The natural thing to do when you’re late and mad at the MB is to look in the freezer for your hidden stash of thin mints. So I did that. [17 minutes behind]. But they were all frozen together so I had to eat five at a time, which kinda hurt my jaw. But I did that twice cuz I was mad and I deserved them, ok? So ten thin mints later [20 minutes behind] I stomp into the bathroom to brush all of the chocolate out of my teeth [22 minutes behind]. By this time my stomach hurts and I’m mad at myself for consuming half a row of cookies for no reason. [23 minutes behind) but I finally make it into my car and start sipping my healthy smoothie (which has lost its health glory in light of the ten cookies I just inhaled). It tastes like pureed broccoli. I end up being late. But I arrived and was the first one there. Of course.

So today on my big girl birthday, I will be using sunscreen, taking my vitamins, wearing longer shorts, leaving earlier than normal to meet my friends for lunch, and hoping that the big wrapped present in the living room is the new food processor that I am wishing for.