When it suddenly hits you that you're an adult.

I mean, I know I'm an adult. 

Obviously.

I just turned 38 years old.  So, yeah. I'm TOTALLY an adult.

But I think in my head...I still feel pretty much like this:

Regardless, I live the life of an adult.  I am raising two kids. I hold down a full-time job quite successfully.  I am a homeowner.  Complete grown-up.

Well...I mean...I'm a homeowner, but every time I say that phrase, I repeat "homeowner" like three times and then it makes me laugh uproariously. I really like hula hoops.  And coloring books.  Cookies with frosting on them. And I sometimes am way too loud.  And I still think butt jokes are funny.  Poop jokes too, frankly.

But! Moving on... I live my life like that, doing grown-up things like paying the mortgage and meeting with my supervisor and writing grant reports and tucking my kids into bed....  The other night I was engaged in the adult activity of going out for dinner with girlfriends to talk about our husbands and kids and jobs (i.e. our adult lives) and I saw a family waiting before us for a table. 

It was a woman and man and three kids.  And I saw them doing mom and dad things with their kids  and talking to each other and it hit me. These people are adults. And they are MY age.  And I looked around the restaurant, which was filled with adults...who were also my age.  And the people with whom I collaborate at work and the people who I talk to at the insurance company and even my doctor and therapist...many of them are MY age. 

 I remember being ten.  You know? And looking at adults as though they were an entirely different species from me.  But here I am, part of that species.  And I have a kid who's almost TEN.

Anyway, it just hit me at that moment that I.  I!  Alie Kriofske. I'm a grown-up. 

I. am. an. adult. 

and that is just completely weird.