As a little girl I have fond memories of putting on my mom’s robe and high heels to make my own pop-tarts. Although I can not recall my actual thoughts, I do believe I was in the mindset of already being a grown woman and my height was the only thing standing between me and the adult world.
By twelve years old I was the glue stick that held together my household of two. My parents had divorced, and I was the adult responsible to raise my mother. (Who felt it necessary to work two jobs.) I was often angry that I had to make my own lunches, do the laundry, take care of the dogs and basically do everything that seemed necessary to keep myself alive. Because I could take care of myself and no one was home to notice me missing, I ran away. I was a grown ass woman who was ready to take on the world.
At seventeen I had a job and my first checking account. My drivers license had arrived and the only thing standing between me and adulthood was the government.
When Twenty-three finally arrived, I took my adult car and my first adult credit card and drove my adult self across the state-line with all my adult belongings. I signed my adult lease and registered to vote. WOW! As I sat in my empty adult apartment and did my adult chores I remember feeling accomplished and middle aged.
Then suddenly at Twenty-five my life began move backwards. A divorce, adult mortgage, adult maxed out credit card and my adult car that had driven me to my new adult career needed new tires. I cried on the phone to my mom and admitted I no longer wanted to be a grownup.
Twenty-seven was the year I had a cancer scare that landed me in a recovery room surrounded by several terminally ill women over the age of 50. Scared and alone with theses women I cried during prayer, “I am just a baby, I can’t be sick”. Thankfully the Doctor agreed. I called my mom immediately and thanked her for always being there for me. She instantly reminded me that I will always be her Little girl.
At Thirty I celebrated being a teenager again! I had themed birthdays, traveled to visit theme parks, binged watched Disney moves and even asked for coloring books for Christmas. Time with friends was better spent having game night vs. drinks at the club. I no longer cared what my peers thought if my parents thought highly of me.
On my 33rd birthday my adolescent (In a good way) Husband and I took my childhood dream vacation to Disney World. I had princess dinners and wore my ears prouder than any stubborn pre-teen could!
So, you can imagine my shock at 33 ½ when a little blue line made me cry like a toddler! “What am I going to do with a baby? I am just a kid. Help me Mom!”
Yesterday my husband and I stepped away from our pretend adult lives to tour our soon to be “Adult in diapers” daycare. Like a baby I cried. Again, I called my mommy to asked her how to be an adult.
Mom did not answer the phone when I called. Ironically, like a teenager my mom texted me back, “Time rolls by. The baby will come and you will know exactly what to do. You are a big girl and will be just fine.”
I am at peace enjoying my last few weeks of being a kid trapped in an adults body. I hope to embrace being an adult the day I become a mommy myself. I already look forward to the days of watching my adult toddler grow into a strong child at heart.
My peace comes from knowing that I will only have to be an adult for a few more years. I hope to transform one last time and enjoy my elder years with childhood spirit only to leave this world again in diapers.