The Spaz checks the calendar a few times and freaks the hell out

Last night as I was letting the dog out for his before bed pee, I looked upon our 4 bedroom, 2 bath ranch house with the minivan parked in the driveway and thought to myself "Holy crap, I'm a grown-up."

It's true. I really can't deny the fact that by my age I should be a grown-up. The odd thing is that I don't really feel any older than I did 10 years ago. I honestly just feel dumber and more frazzled.

Because it's true what they say about the older you get, the more you realize you don't know. 10 years ago I thought I had it all figured out. But the last decade has gone by so fast I feel like I should be nauseous from the ride.

I don't have a damn thing figured out.

In just a few months I'll be turning 35. I had to count back to make sure that was right, because it doesn't seem like it should be. 35 sounds like someone who should be accomplished, know where she's going, have a plan, a retirement fund, and an expensive watch.

Not I, my friend. Not I.

I'm nervous that the last 10 years have gone by so quickly, that the next 10 years might sneak by even faster and I could quite possibly still be sitting here with no accomplishments (besides the fact that I will then have raised three children to adulthood, hopefully with at least some mild success), have no idea where I'm going, no plan, no retirement fund, and most importantly, no expensive watch.

35 years old, y'all. What the hell?

The Man is officially a grown up today, yesterday he was just a kid playing house

Today is The Man's birthday and therefore a day to celebrate.

Today he turns 36.

When I was a kid, 36 was old to me. I can remember my mom being 36. Vaguely, but I remember it. And in my head, now, 36 is really a grown up.  It's like, time to start thinking about mutual funds and plans and safety nets and investments.

What? I was supposed to be thinking of all that stuff before? Pshaw. I have two more years.

Anyhow... I digress.

So, since The Man is officially a grown up today, I guess things around Spazland are going to have to change.  We'll have to start doing yard work on Saturday mornings and making our bed every day.  Our radios will have to be tuned to easy listening and we'll have to watch the evening news and discuss current events at the dinner parties we're going to have to start having.  We'll have to find some friends that are a couple. Their names should be something like "Jack and Alice" and we'll go on vacations to quaint locations with them.  We'll have to start going antiquing and The Man will pick up golfing as an excuse to get away from the old ball and chain and drink scotch in country club bars.  When people come over for our cocktail parties they'll compliment us on stuff in our house.

"Oh, that side table? I bought that with Alice on Amelia Island last summer at the cutest little antique shop while Jack and The Man were playing golf."

On second thought, I think I'm pretty happy not being a grown up.  I'll take the scotch and vacations, though.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Wonderful. I feel so lucky that you were born.