Women

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Taking It All In
By Laura a. Lang
31 August 2009

I wish I were one of those people who have a magnificent moment of understanding and that from that point on I would embrace whatever it was I was trying to understand. Instead, realization tends to come to me in waves. I think the time I first realized that I had become a Ògrown upÓ was the Christmas after I had gotten married.

Growing up, Christmas was like winning a shopping spree, especially with my motherÕs side of the family. Everyone bought gifts for everyone else, except the children. We received a sort of free ride. The adults bought for each other boring clothes and appliances, but kidsÕ toys and clothing are just so darn cute that we were showered with Christmas joy! Something about the mysterious passage of marriage automatically moved me into the dark realm of adulthood. I did not expect it all. I was blindsided.

Suddenly I was buying gifts for all twelve of my extended family on my momÕs side and then grandparentÕs on my dadÕs side, not to mention my immediate family and my husband. (That is a lot of money for all of you who are tallying up my total.) I immediately suggested that we reduce our gift exchange to a name-exchange, to not only make it more affordable for everyone, but to encourage the Òtrue spirit of Christmas.Ó (How noble of me.)

I married young, or at least I think itÕs young. I was just out of undergraduate school and a shiny new twenty-two years old. Another of my great realizations of adulthood came to me during this time. Finances, they were tight. While we were both good working jobs, they did not pay well and I remember looking at the online record of our bank account five times within ten minutes because I was so befuddled at how little money we had.

My wonderful parents did not just hand me things growing up. I appreciate that they taught me to work hard and not just expect things to be given to me (except on Christmas). The many times my parents had assisted me financially prior to marriage was during college with infusing my bank account from time-to-time to keep me in the black while I studied. Those days were gone.

Adulthood sounds dismal at this point, but there is an upside. The first year of our marriage I cooked like my mom. I knew how to cook, but the only example I had ever seen of cooking for a family or providing for a husband was my mother, who was a marvelous cook. So, I cooked all of her recipes and bought all the things I saw her buy at the grocery store.

Then I had an epiphany. I was pregnant with my first child and hormones must have been surging through my veins, because I was grocery shopping and as I looked at the produce aisle it dawned on me: I could buy whatever I wanted. Ah! I had a budget, and was not bound to purchasing Kraft cheese slices as opposed to Brie cheese. I had found freedom as well as a few extra pounds.

I know, itÕs a laughable moment, but there are some things I think was just accept as gospel and never question. For instance, once we got married my husband and I tussled over who washed the dishes. My father almost always did the dishes following dinner. His philosophy was mom had cooked, so he should clean it up for her. In my husbandÕs family, everyone took turns doing the dishes so that no one person bore the entire burden. There we were newly weds, laden with expectations that were left lingering: Welcome to adulthood.

Recently, I had another wave come over me. I now have three young children, and I feel as though I am washing my hands constantly throughout the day. Something about how I was standing there and singing a song, just like my mom, made it feel as though I had come full circle. My features are so similar to my mom, which is not entirely a bad thing. I stood shocked in the moment and then smiled realizing that I was a whole lot older than I had thought I was and in such a different place than I thought I would be. Strange. One would think that getting married and then being pregnant and birthing three children would tip me off, but I am shocked quite often by how life is whizzing past me.

Being Ògrown upÓ is bittersweet. It is mixed with responsibilities and rewards, freedom and fear, growth and failure. My tendency each time I encounter change is to crouch back and want to run. Lately, I have been trying to run forward with change and not to fear it.

I bought a princess gown for my daughter at a yard sale about two years ago. When I bought it was significantly too big for her, but it was in remarkable shape and I knew that someday it would fit just right. For two years she a salivated over the sparkling pink gown as I told her it was way too large. Two days ago, she ran up to me and said, ÒIÕm so big now, Mommy. Can I wear it?Ó Immediately I said no and that it was way too big for her, but as she walked away disappointed I turned to take her in. She had grown and perhaps it would fit. Sure enough the dress fit perfectly, and as she spun around she proclaimed, ÒI told you I was so big. IÕm a big person now, Mommy, just like you!Ó

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