On Being an Adult

Being a grown-up sucks on many levels. From insignificant things like being required to pour apple juice for all three of my children in the morning before I am allowed to suck down my diet pepsi, to bigger things like pricing and comparing private insurance plans--adulthood sucks. Right now, I am in a state of transition. Adulthood is a pain in the rear end when things are going smooth and one has her life in order. However, when plans are up in the air, routine exists in a state of limbo, and responsibilities seem overwhelming, adulthood takes on a whole new realm of infernal hellishness.

Right now, I am job searching. Not fun. Not productive, either. I am also insurance shopping. With COBRA coverage being an absurd $1300+ a month, I am shopping for a private plan to cover my family for the year Ruanita plans on staying home to work on her licensure. Or at least until I get a full-time job with benefits. I worked for seven years in the medical insurance industry, and the options are still mind-boggling to me.

And on a slightly smaller scale, I am still wiping my son's butt--another "adult" activity I am not fond of. As I was sitting here typing this just now, I was summoned to the bathroom with Nicholas' sing-songy call of "I pooped and peed." When I told him that he knows quite well how to wipe his own butt now, he responded with, "I can wipe my butt at school, but I don't like to do it at home." Why? Simple. "It's not fun," he said.

That, my friends, says it all. Adulthood is not fun. Can I be five-years-old again? Please? Can someone bring me juice and wipe my butt and let me monopolize the television watching episode after mind-numbing episode of Hello Kitty's Fairytale Theater? Come on...at least Phineas and Ferb are entertaining! But Hello Kitty?

Ooph da!