I have grown up. A little.
When people ask my age, I have to stop and think. In my head, I'm 25. In actuality, I'm older than that. By a bit. Less than ten years. That's all I'm saying.
Sometimes when I'm walking down the sidewalk holding my daughter's hand, I have to remind myself that I'm the Mom. I know that in my heart and when I hold her or comfort her, that is all that I am. There are times, though, when the fact that I have a kid slips my mind and I am surprised that I am at this point in my life.
I know that I've grown up because I do my own laundry. In fact, I seem to do everyone's laundry. I cook supper. I wash the floors. I have a credit card and my own car. I think more about my family and less about myself. I watch the news.
And I was willing to frog back 3 rows of my Tangled Yoke Cardigan in order to fix a minor mistake that would have haunted me. There was a time when I would have left it, finished the project as quickly as possible, given it away and moved on. I'm beyond that now. I want to do good work and be proud of what I've done.
So I'm getting a little wiser as I age. I still like blowing bubbles and running around the living room. The Backyardigans is my favorite show. A girl has to have priorities.