Will I ever grow up?

The thirties are a hard age. They just don't fit in anywhere. You got the cool, hip, successful, and fresh-faced twenty-somethings and the cool, hip, even more successful, and still young-looking forty-somethings, and then in between are the thirty-somethings. I'm certainly not cool, hip, or successful; nor do I seem to be aging well. Then throw in the delusion I have that I should still be carded at liquor stores and movie theaters...crazy, I know. But ya know what? I'm okay with being a lame wrinkled luddite who's totally behind the times and with no grand achievements to brag of (although I did teach my dog to sneeze on command...c'mon, that's pretty impressive). What bothers me is that here I am in my thirties, but yet I can't handle simple adult tasks/responsibilities.

Case in point: This is my closet.


Not only is this my closet, this has been my closet for months now. Perhaps you're saying to yourself, "Well, surely her closet is this way because she just had a baby and not enough time to devote to taking care of her stuff." I wish I could jump on that excuse, but I can't. My closets have been like this since I was a kid...but when you're a kid, it's okay; it's expected...but from a thirty-something?!? Seriously, when will I grow out of this?!?

Need more examples? I got 'em.

• Flossing. I can probably count on two hands the number of times I floss in a year's time (and that's usually after eating corn, pineapple, or popcorn). Not only sad, but gross, I know.
• Returning rented movies on time. Apparently that's just too hard for me. Let's say I take 10 trips to the video store...9 of them would result in late fees. In fact, I've video store jumped...ya know, when you have high late fees at one so you just join another until you rack up fees there and then you join another.
• Watering plants. It's amazing Baby is still alive.

I have more, but I'll stop there. Am I being too hard on myself? Are my expectations of adulthood unrealistic? Is it like when I got married the first time and thought that, as a wife, my main responsibility was to darn socks? Seriously. I did. I blame Little House on the Prairie for that one.

ANYWAYS...moving on...

So, I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. Yay! Chris doesn't have class, so I'll have the car. I'll leave him to tend to baby's nighttime routine while I face the razor and scissors. I'm only a teeny bit nervous. This will be the shortest I've ever gone, I think.

I'll end with a video of baby. She's still not fantastic at this crawling thing, but I think it's gonna click any day now...then it's bye-bye freedom for mom.