I don’t wanna grow up . . .
You never really understand that Toys-R-Us theme song until it comes to making adult decisions.
The idea of growing up and making those big huge adult decisions is better than actually doing it. We all learned that the hard way when we begged and pleaded to shave our legs, right? And I guess when guys beg and plead to shave their faces? Is that a thing? Well, for women at least, when we first start shaving our legs and trying out new shaving creams and razors, it is fun! We feel so in control and on our way. It is not until you do not want to shave for the first time that you realize it is for the rest of eternity and it is far less of a choice.
Growing up and making adult decisions is a whole lot like shaving legs. It is wayyy more fun until you do not want to make that difficult decision. Then you realize you do not have a choice. And you can call your mama if you want to but at the end of the day, YOU still have to make that adult decision.
Let me get to why I cried over a golfball . . .
In the very beginning of the summer, my husband was offered a new job. At the time, we were’t looking for a new job. And I think I can speak for him when I say that he and we were happy where he was. But it made us think — was he REALLY happy where he was?
The new job off was shiny. The potential the new job was offering was everything we had prayed for in his career. We just didn’t know it was time yet — ya know, 5 year plans and all. So was it time?
And insurance. GOD BLESS INSURANCE. They should offer insurance classes in college. We could all use some more insurance knowledge. And all of my special needs mamas will hear me when I say that you have never made an adult decision until you make a decision about insurance when you have a special needs kiddo. MY GOSH.
We would probably have accepted the job right away with its out of nowhere glory had we not had to examine every bit of the insurance. We were comfortable in the old job. We were comfortable in what the old job had to offer as far as insurance was concerned. It was safe to stay.
But after going back and forth with the insurance company, and therapy providers, and the potential employer with all of the patience in the World, and so many late night conversations and tears from both of us, we made the leap.
He took the job.
But here is the thing about adult decisions — no one is there with a lollipop to tell you that you made the right decision. Your parents and friends can cheer you on all they want to but only you, as the adult, can know if the decision was really the best one for you and your family.
That is a really hard grown-up realization.
Every day when I talk to my husband on the phone while he is at work, I try to hear his tone. Did we make the right decision? When he gets home from work, I try to read the exhaustion on his face? Is it the good kind? The fulfilled kind of exhaustion on his face? Did we make the right decision? And the switch overs for insurance (gahhh), and accounts, and mailing addresses — did we make the right decision?
Then a couple of months ago, my husband texted me a picture. It was a picture of whole box of golf balls with the new firm’s logo on them.
And I cried over a golf ball.
Because up until that point, we kind of knew in our guts that it was the right move. We just got the vibe. But the golf balls — that is more than a vibe. To me, that meant that they get him. They get and care about his personal passions but they also get how his personal passions can work for them. Whew that is big.
And that, my friends, is an adult decision well-made. Can I get an AMEN . . . and a drink. 😉
Oh, and if you need a CPA, a really good one with a fresh, passionate, and current CPA firm behind him, you should call my husband.
