Adulthood=No Fun

I've been perusing a new blog recommended by my friend, Swank. It's ridiculously hilarious, and it reminds me of my life, at times. This post felt pretty relevant today. I mean, seriously, being an adult isn't all it's cracked up to be. This morning, my adult husband had to spend a huge chunk of time pulling up our basement carpet and padding because the dumb city of Wheaton has allowed the storm drain in front of our house to fill up with who-knows-what? for years and every time we get a decent rain, Lake Green comes around. This past Saturday, it came roughly halfway up the yard. These are actually after it's gone down a little, too.


This doesn't bode well for us because, 1) there's no way to leave our driveway but through our neighbors' yards and, 2) when the ground becomes saturated, the water loves nothing more than to sneak its way through cracks in our foundation and into our carpeted basement.

So, as adults, we have to suck it up and dish out our adult money because the stupid city didn't send a truck over to clean the drain until this morning, while Mike was ripping up our carpet that, in case you have forgotten, got soaked because of negligent Wheaton. I'm not bitter, though. (And I'm not stupid, either. I realize that this may not have been the city's fault entirely, so maybe I am just bitter. Which one looks better on a resume?)

I'll be honest, Michael did most of the adult-type work-- moving all the furniture, including futons, computer and TV, ripping up the carpet, positioning fans to dry stuff out. I guess I was pretty inspired by it. Plus, my main outlets during nap time had been ripped away from me by our beloved city. I couldn't get to the computer, watch my DVR'd Food Network shows or, gasp, reach my sewing machine. I had to be productive somehow.

Thus, this morning, I made gluten-free, egg-free banana bread, got dinner in the crockpot, washed all the dishes, cleaned the counters, cleaned the fridge out, put away toys and entertained the girls till nap time. I felt pretty darn good about myself. And then, as I was lying in my bed, resting while the girls napped, I realized that, when they woke up, I had to be an adult all over again. It's like the opening chart in the aforementioned post: "I did three things yesterday! Now I'm supposed to keep doing things? It's like the things will never end!"

So when Noelle woke up, I quickly texted Becky to beg her to hang out with me, so I wouldn't have to do more things because here's the paradox of the situation. I get tired of doing things, but I'm also so goal-oriented that I HAVE to do something. I MUST BE PRODUCTIVE! Fellowship, in my book, counts as productivity. So, Becky, thank you for fellowshipping with us. I am more adult because of you.