How did this happen? When did I become a grown-up? It started out that we wanted a baby and now we have to Think About The Future.
It's not that I didn't feel "adult" before. Sure, I could have fabulous wine and cheese parties like nobody's business. I've been working since I was 12 (child labor laws, anyone?) and have always felt rather grown-up. But "felt" is the operative word. I never had "to be" until now.
Here's the dilemma. We eventually have to move because our apartment is too small for the three of us, let alone when we decide to add a fourth. But our neighborhood rents are so expensive that for the amount of space we'd need, the price would be exorbitant. Imagine if you were to book two first class tickets to Fiji and then stay in a four star resort for a week. That's one month's rent where we live. So anyway. Not only do we have to find a new place, but we have to find a new place with good schools. See what I mean? GROWN UP. And in addition to good great schools, it should be some place we can stay for the next several years. Because you can't just keep uprooting children. You need to give them stability. You need to be a GROWN UP FOR JAYSUS SAKES!
And while we're at it, we might as well start saving for college (didn't I just go to college?!). Because H. had to go and be a genius. Now we have to send him to Harvard. There shall be no discussion. How do I know he's a genius, you ask? Well. For starters, this morning, instead of asking if he wanted to read a book, I just started reciting lines from his favorite, Is Your Mama A Llama? We've only read it 768 times, so I know all the words. As soon as I started, he smiled and looked up at the bookshelf, exactly where that book is. (Which means that every time I curse, he probably knows what that means too. Shit! Outdone by an 11-month old!)
Now then. Back to the adult thing. Adults also interview and hire and then use babysitters. Apparently, our babysitter thinks 30-year-olds are old, so I know for sure she thinks we're Adults. I can't tell you how weird it was leaving for the night, telling her where all the junk food was, and to help herself to DVDs and the phone...and then to return, the Slightly Tipsy Adult Couple, asking how the night went.
I guess the only thing to do is embrace it. Start looking for places to settle down in, plan for the future. H. does have to go to Harvard after all. There shall be no discussion.
I hear you, on all counts.
Hey! Try Kensington! Veeeerrrry nice over here . . .
Posted by: Brooklyn Mama | May 24, 2005 at 10:20 PM
As long as you stay on the F Train or maybe the A I'll deal. Because I'm learning to be a grownup, too, and grownups deal.
Posted by: Figlet | May 24, 2005 at 10:30 PM
So that means that Queens would be ok too. But not New Jersey. No offense to New Jerseyers, I nearly moved there myself. But you can't get there on the MTA.
Posted by: Figlet | May 24, 2005 at 10:31 PM
Let's just be clear...
The babysitter is NOT to help herself to DVDs. As a matter of fact, I'd prefer it if she just reads. Good old, no audio-system-wrecking, buttons-or-equalizer-needing, electronic-equipment-breaking, reading. Point her to the bookshelf and the Girl Scout cookies we don't want and tell her we'll be back in three hours.
And also, tell her, "the surveillance cameras are for your protection."
Love,
T
Posted by: Mr Fits Himself | May 24, 2005 at 11:45 PM
Move here. Meaning right here. Where I live. The rent won't be cheaper but the weather is a hell of a lot better and we have Stanford (IMO better than Harvard).
Posted by: marla | May 25, 2005 at 11:30 PM
That H is a genius! But I'm with Marla and rooting for the west coast...
xxoo
Posted by: Anna H. | May 27, 2005 at 01:22 PM