Most days, I forget that I’m not 25 anymore. I still feel 25. I still feel like I should be in that carefree stage of my life where the world is my oyster and I have at least a decade to figure my shit out.
Sadly, I’m not 25 anymore. My current life of marriage, motherhood, career, home ownership, etc. requires a level of adulting that I was totally oblivious to at 25. Back then, I felt like I was ahead of the curve because I had a 401k. Today, I would gladly trade my 401k to be able to sleep like I did at 25.
Yesterday, a crew arrived at our front door at 7am on the dot to tear off our roof. At 25, it felt like getting a new roof was something your parents did. Turns out I was right, because almost immediately upon becoming parents, we needed a new roof. (Let’s do the time warp again…)
This morning, another crew arrived with a gigantic truck to haul all of the materials up onto the roof for the roofers. When I saw the truck out my living room window, my first thought was, “Hmm—the neighbors must be having some work done.” Maybe that’s just sleep deprivation talking, but it could also just be that I am currently acting as Senior VP of Adulting when in reality, my pay grade is more along the lines of Junior Adulting Clerk in Training most days.
On Monday, I’m taking Twix to the vet to have her teeth cleaned while Catch stays home to deal with the crew coming to tear our bathroom down to the studs. We’re moving in with my mom for a bit while all of that is happening. (It was either that or a Home Depot bucket with a toilet seat attached for a few weeks.) We’re hopeful that when we return to our house, there will no longer be two bathtubs in our back yard (long story) and I’ll finally have a shower I can shave my legs in.
In the meantime, my in-laws are occupying the guest room until Monday and I am nothing but grateful. Yes, I would have preferred to avoid their blatant racism as we relaxed in the back yard yesterday afternoon, but my MIL has been cooking our dinners and doing the laundry and my FIL cut and installed new molding for the guest room and has been dealing with the roofers. Most importantly, they’ve been occupying Charlotte so we have a bit of respite and heck if I haven’t reached a point in my life where I will trade 30 seconds of their racist commentary for a week of free babysitting. Like I said—this adulting business is totally above my pay grade and at this point, I will sell my soul for a bit of extra sleep.
I will leave you with the latest tidbit of happiness in our family. My parents just brought home a puppy, and she’s pretty much the cutest ball of fluff around. First her name was Emma, then it was Rory, and now it seems to be stuck at Penny. Meet Penny: