I had a flash back the other day.  I was remembering how it felt to suddenly become an adult.  At 17 I was living at home with my parents, going to school, working an easy part time clerical job, and doing a few jobs around the house like peeling potatoes and keeping my room clean.

And then at barely 18, I was married, caring for a new born, and living in an apartment. It was like whiplash.  I had a tiny human to care for who pooped in his pants and puked.  There was endless laundry, meals to prepare, and bills to pay.   My new almost 19 year old husband was as clueless as I was. He mostly stayed away. I made daily calls to my mom.  How do I change a diaper?  How do you make a meat loaf?  How do you clean the bathroom.  How do I write a check? 

One evening, while cleaning up after dinner I just had this overwhelming sense of despair.  I am going to have to do this everyday for the rest of my life!  How do women do this?  The only thing that consoled me was the thought that at least no one tells me how many cookies I can have.  

I had that same feeling today while doing the dishes.  I’ve been a grown up for over 50 years and I’m kind of sick of it.  Is there no end to this?

And then I glanced at a painting in my kitchen the artist called, “Que? (What?).”  I acquired it years ago.  And yes, this is my life.  Yes, adulting has it’s advantages.  I have traveled far and wide, I’ve had a career that I’m proud of.  I have grand kids that bring me great joy.  And I eat as many cookies as a I want. But the maintenance part of being an adult still kind of sucks. 

The artist is Jessica Kritzer.