Countdown to Grown-Up Land

I have often thought and remarked that I don't feel like a Grown-Up, certainly not an Adult. I always reasoned that "Grown-Ups have a mortgage and kids." Whew, I was safely not a member of that club!

Then one day we decided we wanted to have the latter (the kid). Which, because of the cards Life dealt us, and the path we choose, necessitated the former (the house, which = mortgage).

The house was not something we wanted. For over a year now I have felt like I have let everybody down when they say to us with a happy voice, "Don't you love having a house!" Um, uh, NO, we don't! I love my hardwood floors. I love shouting at the tops of my lungs (could do that at our old funky apartment, though). I love that the house made our adoption possible. I love that the walls in Lil' Pumpkin's nursery are bright green and blue (as opposed to "rental white" or cream). But I most certainly do not love having a house. Sigh. On our best days, I would put us in the "reluctant homeowner" category. I will be forever working towards my dream of three-story townhouse -- I even have it picked out, if anyone wants to buy it for grateful me (try me, I am GREAT at being GRATEFUL!!!)

But now I am less than 3o days (28, if anyone's counting -- oh wait, I AM!) to being a legal parent to somebody. I already feel like her parent, of course. I have filled out endless (and I do mean ENDLESS) paperwork to justify our relationship & responsibility. I have updated my life insurance to name her as a big winner if we croak. We now have wills, which name her as the heir to our estate (LOL -- then SHE can deal with the house, hee hee), and name her Legal Guardians if, again, we croak (seeing her name in our wills gave me such a reality-check rush, but in a good way). Heck, I even have her pediatrician appointment booked! Phuck, I am even tossing out phrases like "Maternity Leave" in emails to colleagues. WTF?!

Part Two of being a Grown-Up, which, by my definition, is what I am on the verge of these last 28 days, is clearly within my grasp. It is just around the corner, and yet painfully far away. I suck at waiting, of course. When I want something, I want it NOW. No, make that YESTERDAY.

But Part Two, as much as it's craved (okay, SHE is craved by us), seems so scary at the same time. I am aware of this about a thousand times a day as I move about my not-loved but toddler-proofed house. I see hazards everywhere. I think about all the things that can go wrong -- my old fears and pessimism never can be fully quelled, I suppose. I take out her photos and glance at it, for just a few quick seconds, and then have to put it away. It's like I am afraid that if I stare at it too long, or dream too much, then POOF, it will all be gone. Because that IS when things typically go to shit in my life -- when I start to get comfortable with a concept or state of being.

(Cue my positive mantras . . . she is ours, she is ours, she is ours).

28 days. Holy Phuck. Should I be doing something wild to mark these last days as a NON-adult?! What is truly crazy and non-kiddie that I can do to commemorate my last fleeting days of life that don't include a toddler? Maybe I need to pull our my "24 things" list again. LOL, if only we had time to do one a day (not).