This morning I am having a grown up moment.

A moment that sneaks up on you, and you realize that you are no longer young. Your problems are no longer young problems, and your body is no longer a young body. Yes, I knew all of this before now, but at this moment it’s just very present.

I am sitting in our home office stressing about the finances. The finances that Hot Nerd was in charge of until about two weeks ago, when he admitted he was too damn busy and totally let things slide. I am now realizing how much he let things slide, as I try to organize a huge mess, call companies and apologize for not paying, and set up payment plans that we may be able to manage. I’m also knee deep in a medical bill triage, where I decide which bills get paid, and which just… don’t.

I’m trying to create a manageable budget for us and use this stupid financial software that I can barely figure out. And I just can’t believe that I’m here, stepping up to the plate. Because there was a reason Hot Nerd was in charge of the finances, and not me.

I AM FINANCIALLY HANDICAPPED.

My brain doesn’t know what to do with numbers. I got into a lot of debt in my twenties, and it took years to dig myself out of it. Words are my thing. I’ll make a sentence and take it with me into battle, but numbers… like quicksand to me.

I’m serious, it took me 3 years to finally memorize my phone number. I can’t remember my husband’s Social Security number, nor my son’s, and I often forget my age (although that may be selective memory on my part.)

But here I am, wading through this quagmire of numbers and decimal points… because I have to. Because I’m a grownup. I can’t just ignore it. There all kinds of living creatures in my household that are counting on me to get this family’s shit together.

And at this moment, it makes me a little sad.

I miss being heartbroken when my ex boyfriend in high school asked another girl to the dance.  I miss going off to college feeling like I could take over the world. I miss my biggest worry being a final exam.

I don’t like my grown up problems.

So before I get too bogged down with everyday stress,

I stand up,

bend over to touch my toes,

and take a deep breath.

It is at this precise moment that I realize I haven’t actually “breathed” since my son was born almost two years ago.  I’ve been too busy worrying, and you know, being a grown up.

Perhaps that’s why being folded over like a taco and breathing into my back feels so uncomfortable.

Or perhaps it’s because my gut is in the way.

Because I am also at this moment painfully aware that I have a grown up mid section.

No matter how much I excersice, it will never be like it was.

It has weathered too much.

And that also makes me a little sad.

So, back to the finances it is…