I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a grown-up.

I thought that I put aside childish things when I was 27 and Jack was diagnosed. But now I’m 38 and feel like I might be finally getting somewhere.

My boys didn’t even realize they were being raised by an amateur.

An actual grown-up can do things like forgive people when they say dumb things and can set reasonable boundaries for children spinning out of hand.

A real-life adult knows when to shed guilt and shelve fear.

True grown-ups value sleep, kindness, and a quiet house with basically clean floors.

Adulthood leaves behind people-pleasing and wearing heels when you don’t feel like it (which is usually).

It’s into listening to other people and eating only the really good chocolate.