Did We Really Think We Had It All Figured Out?

                The funniest things are striking me, as we pack away our belongings in preparation for the Big Adventure. We haven’t used all of our trash bags, for example. We have lived in this house for a little over 7 months. This is the first home we purchased. We built it, saved for it, waited on it, prayed for it.

                We moved in like we were hunkering down for the world war; stashing 20 lb. bags of rice in the pantry, and economy size bottles of dish soap in the garage. We stored outgrown infant car seats for a ‘someday’ baby number two and carefully organized fragile Christmas ornaments on shelves Troy built by hand, as if we would be here forever.

                Of course, we both acknowledged we would not be in this home *forever*. We were looking at staying less than ten years, if everything went according to our brilliant and all-knowing plan. Five to ten years… yes, that seems reasonable.

                Even knowing the limits of our planning, and having lived through God’s ability to alter our “plans” at barely a moment’s notice (Hello, Paisley!), we still had faith enough in our own understanding (Mistake! Mistake! Mistake!) to buy the big box of trash bags. The 185 count box of tall drawstring kitchen trash bags that we purchased from Sam’s Club upon moving in to our very first big kid home, to be exact. After all, we have a mortgage. We are responsible. We are two conservative (money-wise, clearly not with the environment) financially savvy home-owning adults! We even put back the bulk bag of gummy bears that were already in the cart to offset the upfront cost (you know, since the bags are a necessity). So very grown up of us.

                I’m not sure why I am so bothered by these damn trash bags. We still have plenty of them. They seem to be the only thing taking up space in our increasingly empty kitchen. We are using them for everything, from hauling off clothes for donation, to cleaning out closets and boxes. As each one comes tearing off the roll, it’s like watching a tally of the time that I was so confident we would spend here. One bag, empty crushed solo cups from a late summer BBQ. Another bag, raked fall leaves & grass weeds. Another bag, wrapping paper from Paisley’s 2^nd birthday this September.

A metaphor.

Our time, our careers, our plans – changed and redirected in a way that we were not anticipating. Mocking our confidence, our sureness. I didn’t buy those trash bags to move out with. I bought them because, for one minute, we were arrogant enough to think that we had it all figured out.

Are We Grown-Ups? Or, Are We Just The Lucky Ones?

“I don’t remember, were we wild and young? All that’s faded into memory. I feel like somebody I don’t know. Are we really who we used to be? Am I really who I was?” Ryan Adams

People think we are crazy…

And maybe we are. Troy and I recently celebrated 3 years of marriage. We are both just 22 years old. We have a 2 year old daughter, a mortgage (for now) and big kid jobs.

Are we grown-ups?

We do not contribute to a 401K or IRA. We do not take our multi-vitamins. We have to ask Google about everything from tax filing concerns to suspicious spider bites. We (for the most part) monitor our credit scores…which are neither fantastic, nor atrocious. We do not own our own lawnmower. We are obsessed with our Shark vacuum. We spend too much money on satellite TV and complain about the cost of our car insurance. We tend to just “chance it”. We have both days where we think we know what we are doing, and days where we pretend the real world does not exist. We plan for big events, budget for vacations, and anticipate significant milestones. We forget our plans, and (most of the time) our budgets. We wear nice watches and tote dollar store umbrellas. We handle *relatively* important business dealings, and do not own briefcases. We know better. We almost never remember to send thank you notes. We do preventative maintenance on our home. We consume both overpriced K-Cups, and ramen noodles. On occasion, we have overdrawn our bank accounts, and accidentally missed the water bill. We have learned lessons, forgotten lessons, and ignored lessons. We have heeded the advice of others, even when we fail to admit it.

Are we grown-ups?

Troy and I often discuss the current state of our lives, in a sort of bemused and satisfied way. When Troy is caught giving his coveted last bite of pizza to Pais, or playing princesses with her while watching a World Cup match. We stop. We laugh. How did we get here? 3 years ago, even 4 or 5, we wouldn’t have guessed this would be what our life looks like today. These are the times I wonder if I have let a part of myself go in all of this. Have I kissed good-bye my youth, trading a priceless freedom for this confining adulthood? So many of you think there is something I should be mourning. Is it something I am missing?

I don’t remember, were we wild and young? I think so. At some point.

Am I really who I used to be? Maybe. Probably.

But, I’m not who you used to be. Whoever you are now, whoever you were. We haven't followed your path.

At 22, I don't think we have sold our free spirits for a depressing albatross of responsibility. I don’t think the chapter of our youth has closed on us. Not even with our child, our mortgage, our stress. Our lives are constantly evolving, we are changing, and we are growing. Sometimes, we are growing up. Are we spontaneous beer bong chugging turn-down-for-what wild these days? No. But then again, we never were.

We are still free. We are still figuring it out. If all you need is love, then we are just the lucky ones.