MeMeMeMeMeMe

Is being an adult really just a continuous struggle to prove that you're not "old?" So much of our adulthood seems to incorporate a theme of heralding the days of our youth. I am getting sick of my desire to prove that I am just as fun as I used to be, back "in the days" before the responsibilities and little hands pulling on me became such an overwhelming presence that my duties and my personality have meshed into one entity.

Driving home from dropping off my kids at my mother-in-law's house allowed me more quiet time to think without interruption than I've had in months. Literally, MONTHS. Between Patrick's 2 jobs with weird hours and homeschooling, I am constantly surrounded by people. And most of those people expect me to feed/carry/care/etc. for them. And it is tiring...

This little bit of freedom from the duties and doldrums isn't really something I can fully explain. My hands are empty and my mind is racing through all of the things I could be doing with this unprecedented free time. My mother-in-law asked what I was going to bring in order to not get bored at the races... "Nothing" I said. "I welcome the boredom."

That will be me this weekend. Sitting. Standing. Smiling about nothing. Being quiet. Being loud. Being nobody's mother. Paying nobody's bills. Cleaning after no one but myself. Releasing the duties and allowing my personality to stand alone.

Just... existing.

Bliss.