Thoughts on 33

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When I was a little girl, about 5 years old, I was riding home in the car and my mom was driving. I don’t remember where we had been or the circumstances surrounding this day, I just remember my feelings at that particular moment. As I rode in the back seat of that car I looked at my mom with all of her freedom–getting to drive her own car anywhere she wanted and make all of her own decisions–and I felt jealous. I asked her how old she was because I wanted to know how old I’d have to be before I got to enjoy that same freedom. 33, she said. She was 33.

Today, my friends, I have finally arrived. Today is my birthday, and I am 33.

And, while it’s silly looking back at 5-year old me who was jealous of adulthood (what I wouldn’t give to be a kid and able to do cartwheels without throwing out my back or wear skinny jeans because I was actually too skinny to wear anything else…) I think I was on to something. Childhood is wonderful and magical and all that jazz, but adulthood is pretty awesome, too.

In honor of the fact that I’ve finally achieved the perfection that is 33, here are 33 reasons why being 33 really is better than being 5:

  1. I don’t have a bedtime–as I write this post I am, in fact, up past my “bedtime”. And who cares? (Tomorrow me will care, that’s who. But tomorrow me already appreciates the sacrifice.)
  2. I can ride on roller coasters all by myself.
  3. I can lick the cake batter out of my own bowl and not have to share with anybody (I may have told my children that it’s poisonous and could make them die, so they’d better not ever touch my cake batter or else.)
  4. I can drive my own car anywhere I want it to go–If I feel like taking a mid-morning jaunt to “the candy store” (Starbucks), I just get in the car and go. No permission needed.
  5. I don’t have to play house–I have my own real husband and three mini-me’s running around our real house every day. How cool is that?
  6. I get to actually be a teacher, and not just play school.
  7. I have money to buy things I actually want–When you’re a kid, it sure takes a lot of $1 weekly allowances to buy that trinket at the toy store.
  8. I’ve traveled and experienced many parts of the world
  9. I can wear high heels and lipstick (not that I ever really do, but I can, and that’s what really matters)
  10. I don’t have to get shots every time I go to the doctor.
  11. I can watch any movie I want, even if it’s not made by Disney.
  12. I’m in charge–I get to make rules for other (little) people and they have to follow them, not the other way around.
  13. I can eat really spicy food and actually enjoy the experience.
  14. I can reach the top shelf without having to stand on a step stool.
  15. I know how to tame my own hair (and I don’t even scream every time I brush it).
  16. I get my own phone so I can play Angry Birds and PBS Kids any time I want (That’s what phones are for, right?).
  17. I DON’T HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL.
  18. I don’t eat cold hot dogs or soggy pizza for lunch (My diet as a 5-year old was questionable, at best. We can get into that more later.)
  19. I know how to ride a bike. And it’s fun.
  20. If I want to eat ice cream for dinner I just do it.
  21. I get to have my mom, my dad, and my sisters as some of my closest friends.
  22. I get to stare into my baby’s eyes and know that I helped make that. One of the true miracles of life.
  23. I can read bedtime stories to myself.
  24. Pedicures.
  25. I can cut up my own steak.
  26. I get the big bedroom, and my bed is the comfiest one in the house.
  27. I don’t have to wait for recess to play with my friends.
  28. Wine.
  29. I know how to count past 100…which is helpful when paying $1500 veterinarian bills (one of the downsides of being a grown-up, but let’s focus on the positives).
  30. Nobody monitors my screen time.
  31. I can appreciate sleep for what it is: a daily miracle.
  32. Nobody cares how “cool” my clothes are. I can even wear yoga pants every day, and those aren’t even real pants. Bliss.
  33. I control my own destiny–If I want to do something, I make it happen.

Now that I’m 33 years old, I can honestly say that this age is everything that little 5-year-old-me had hoped it would be. I’m excited for this next year and all that it will bring…maybe I’ll even fit into those skinny jeans again.

 

Why Being A Grown Up Is Better Than Being A Kid

Earlier this week I was dealing with a crisis. David was lying on the floor shrieking because I was forcing him to put on pants before we left the house, or some other similar form of child-torture. I told him suck it up, kid, and we pulled up his pants anyway and left the house. And about five minutes later, another similar scene ensued and I realized what I’ve always known: being a kid is a tough job. You’ve got these “grown ups” who just like to boss you around and dictate your entire life–right on down to the pants you have to wear in public.

I remember being a kid and just wishing I could be old enough to finally call the shots. And, luck of all lucks, now I AM the grown up. I get to make the rules–not just for me, but also for my tiny minions. It’s a good gig. Actually, it’s a really good gig.

Being a grown up is better than being a kid because…

You get to say “because I told you so”–the sweetest 5-word phrase that will ever pass your lips.

You get to lick out the whole bowl when you’re baking brownies. You can also eat frosting right out of the jar and nobody’s going to stop you (I may or may not have eaten entire jars of frosting. Just because.)

You don’t have a curfew.

You are allowed to use real dishes and glasses at family gatherings.

You can decide for your own dang self if you’re going to eat your veggies.

You don’t have to deal with cliques…at least not as much. Among my grown-up friends I have a jet-setter, a prom queen, a book-nerd writer, a sorority sister/cheerleader, a former professional athlete, a Dungeon Master, an artist, a homeschooling mom, a songwriter, and a business leader. Tell me which high school would foster that group of friends?

You drive a car–the ultimate form of control.

You can wear a t-shirt out in a snow storm, and nobody’s going to yammer at you to put on a coat and a hat and gloves and some boots, for pete’s sake.

You can wipe your own bottom after using the toilet.

You don’t have to feel bad if somebody isn’t sharing their favorite toy with you. You can be as selfish as you want and just buy your own if you want it so bad.

You are expected to make your own decisions rather than having them dictated to you (like, deciding whether or not you will wear pants when you leave the house today…)

You don’t have to get “pokeys” every time you visit the doctor.

You’re tall enough to ride all of the cool rides.

You don’t have to do homework or take tests (even if your kids do test your patience every minute of every day).

You can order off the “real” menu when you go out to a restaurant.

When you wear mismatched outfits that don’t make any sense, people call you a trend setter.

You get to experience the magic of childhood from the other side.

You can stay up late drinking wine and writing your blog when you’re supposed to be in bed sleeping 🙂

 

To all the grown ups out there: Happy Friday!