The Decision to Grow Up

I never signed up for growing up. But I guess it happened. I kinda hoped that maybe Peter Pan would sprinkle me with some fairy dust and I could stay in happy go lucky little kid land forever. I mean I still ask for crayons and a kids menu to color at restaurants! I would much rather go play at the park with a boy then have him take me to some overpriced fancy dancy restaurant. And if I could have nap time every single day, I totally would. Clearly, I am not made for the grown up world. But I guess life just isn't fair. Sometimes things are thrown at you that you just didn't want or expect. One day we all look up at the mirror and realize that we are older than we act. And then there are those other days we look in the mirror and realize we are adults who have to make adult decisions. Unfortunately, there is no single defining moment that decides your transition from adolescence to adult. There is no huge banner that reads: Welcome to Adulthood! Instead growing up is a process, a continual process that doesn't end when you turn 18 or 21 or ever really. There is that one saying that says, "Growing old isn't a choice. Growing up is." Although there is a lot of truth to this statement, there is a certain amount of falseness contained in it too. Because the truth of it is all of us have to put on our big boy or big girl pants at some point and suck it up. We all have to make grown up decisions. Ultimately, the only thing we can do is make these decisions with maturity,confidence, and a healthy dose of understanding. Most of these decisions boil down to choosing responsibility over fun. Ugh. What an innately boring word: responsibility. But that's what we do in grown up world, we choose responsibility. And when, everything is said and done, we are supposed to be happy that we chose long term happiness over immediate gratification.

Regards from a legal adult,

Miss M

P.S. I just want to say that I love all you readers out there! Yes, I love you. I truly do. Even if you are simply stopping by. :)

The Subject of Every Girl's Infatuation

Boys. Boys. Boys.
What more is there to say? All you need to add is an eye roll and the girl next to you on the bus understands exactly what you mean. At what point do they stop having cooties? Maybe it started happening in second grade or so, when the boy at the top of the slide pushed you down and you suddenly realized that you didn’t spontaneously combust at his touch. Or maybe it happened later, at lunch when he offered to share his chocolate pudding with you, and you let him. Either way, all of us broke down at some point and decided to let them in to our lives.
When we start getting older there is some mythical defining moment in which the boy becomes a man. But us girls know the secret: they never really grow up. And maybe, just maybe this is why we love them, because without them we would have no one to grow old with, no shoulder to cry on, and no threat of spontaneous combustion with one touch. The hard part is finding that one boy who makes you melt, and some of us will spend our whole lives searching for true love, while others will marry someone they knew since diapers. So we go through this tiresome, sometimes embarrassing, occasionally fun process of dating, testing out what we like, and what we don’t. It ends up being a lot like trying flavors in an ice cream parlor. Even though you may only get a sample spoonful, you know right then and there whether you like it or not. Some boys are like pistachio ice cream, it looks weird, even though it might taste good we never think to try it because, well, face it: it’s green. Others are like banana splits: they are every girl's fantasy, but maybe they end up being a little overrated or just too much. We try out all these flavors, and then it happens! We find the exact right one, the flavor that fits. The process of tasting and testing is over, and though we might end up with a lot of sample spoons in our hand, it’s all worth it for this one magical flavor.
True. This may be a very romantic notion. And I am a self-proclaimed romantic...stuffed full of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte, and raised on Chick Flicks. But I would like to believe in the concept of love, and heck who doesn't want to believe it?

Anyway, it's been two blog posts in one day...which hopefully isn't too much for you dear readers. However, I did cheat a little bit and wrote this quite a while ago. This will be my first installment of several on love, relationships, and all the other gooeyness that makes up Valentine's Day.

Hugs and Kisses to all!

Miss M