I’ve entered that phase of my late twenties where it seems like the “grown up” moments won’t end. You’d think I’d be passed these “ohhhhh shoot, that was such an adult thing to do/want/say” moments, but judging by what I hear from my peers, I think it’s a reality of adulthood, especially at my age. This past week seemed to have more of these moments than normal.
One of the best parts about our siblings now all being in their 20’s and 30’s is transitioning away from the dynamic we had as kids and finding more common ground as peers. My baby sister, now 21, and I have grown much closer in the last year, to the point where I realize I’d like her even if we didn’t share genes. My bother, 23, has as grown into a responsible man, and I find myself proud of him every time I see him.
Then we had a moment that could have happened 10 years ago.
The husband and I recently bought a new bed, a significant upgrade from our Ikea frame and the box spring we’d attempted to repair with spare bits of 2×4. My brother, meanwhile, had just moved into a new place with his girlfriend and they found themselves short on storage. Since we didn’t need the frame anymore, we gave it to them so they could enjoy the large drawers in it.
My brother then sent me home with his crappy metal frame, and today my sister showed up with my dad to take the crappy metal frame and our old mattress to her new apartment, since her twin had broken.
So big sister buys herself something nice and new and gives her mediocre bed frame to her little brother, who in turn gives his crappy bed frame to baby sister, who would have been happy sleeping on the floor otherwise.
It won’t be long before we’re beyond the basic hand-me-down phase, and it made me incredibly happy to let my siblings benefit from something I no longer needed.
Grown up moment #1: Realizing that as close as we grow, that even if my siblings surpass me in some parts of life, I will always be the big sister.
Well, we’re going to go ahead and hope none of my family ever notices this blog… We’ll follow that with a disclaimer that I like my in-laws very much. Having almost made of mistake of marrying into another family once, I fully appreciate how lucky I am to have these people in my life.
One of them, however, doesn’t super like me. I don’t think this in-law super hates me either. I’m think I’m like a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich to them. For most people, it’s not their favorite food, but it’s not the worst thing either.
How do I know? Well, maybe I read into things too much. That’s entirely possible, but this particular in-law has a habit of saying “well, I know how you are,” or “oh, I know what to expect of you” in reference to things people might associate with a female dog. It bothered me for awhile. I may be more forthcoming than some people. I may not fall for a lot of the same charm that entices so many. I don’t know that my most defining characteristic, however, is bitch, as this person tends to make me feel.
It doesn’t bother me so much anymore. For awhile I took it too far. I wouldn’t be deliberately bitchy, but I stopped trying to fake happy so much around this person, because I figured it wasn’t doing any good. This past week I ended up having a conversation with said in-law (they didn’t have my number and paused to think about it when I gave my name, if that gives you an idea of how often we see each other). In this conversation, I was mildly assertive, and I felt like I found a nice comfort zone. I figured out how to be polite while realizing that this person and I can see through each other’s BS, so there wasn’t a point in engaging in it.
Grown up moment #2: Realizing that there will be times when being part of another family is the most difficult part of marriage.
Grown up moment #3: Realizing that a whole heck of a lot of people have had that moment long before I did.
Everyone has done it at some point, right?
I joined Facebook when you still needed a college e-mail, though not long before they removed that requirement. It’s full of stupid pictures of high school classrooms (you get that e-mail address senior year, after all) and ridiculous posts made by a teenager. As I got older, I became more and more cautious of what I posted, to the point where all I ever put up were pictures of my cats, and the occasional picture of my husband and I at some event. No statuses. No selfies. It usually sat unattended.
Well, except that I’d gotten to a point where I’d hit the Facebook app on my phone without thinking about it. I realized that I knew way too much about someone I hadn’t seen in 10 years: Her husband’s name, the names of both of her daughters, her cat, where she worked, and the type of things her toddler would say.
Why did I care? I didn’t know this girl any more. We hadn’t been particularly close. I’d kept Facebook this whole time because it felt as necessary as an e-mail, a way to keep in contact with people who I don’t text.
Grown up moment #4: Still in progress. Staying away from things like Facebook, that suck up my time and make me feel creepy. even if all I’m doing is reading material on people’s lives that they want everyone to see. I’m not going to pretend that I won’t go back. I imagine something will get me back at some point. This is about growth, though. I’m removing something that has done me no good for the last 9ish years, and choosing to find other forms of entertainment (hellooooo WordPress).