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.