I’m 28. (almost 29..)
My mother regularly receives phone calls and texts from me about random aches and questions about situations and answers all of my questions as if she has a medical degree with a specialist diploma in life. She keeps me from the dreaded WebMD and says that taking a shower and putting my head in the freezer (not in that order, and not usually in the same instances) will fix most of my problems. Weirdly, when I do either of these things, I usually do feel better. Which is interesting because she also solves most of her medical problems lately with popsicles.
A couple of months ago, I was at a debate tournament with my students and a couple of teachers. I felt HORRIBLE. I was irrational and achy and thank goodness my parents were texting because I was a mess. Thank extra goodness that I had a teacher there that took my hand and calmed me out of my melodramatic plague bought of ridiculousness, told me I wasn’t having a heart attack and that I needed to calm down. I told her that as long as she thought I was fine, then clearly I was, because for some reason she was the authority of sickness at that moment. (You can find her Slicing at this link: http://portable-teacher.blogspot.com/2015/03/from-school-stage.html )
Last week one of my students had a seizure in the lunchroom while helping me do things for seniors. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified but helped her through the process (she’s out of the hospital now). I chatted with my principal about the process and if I could talk to the student about it if she asked. My principal was helpful and explained a little bit of seizure facts and helped me with my own questions.
Regularly, I ask my friend medical questions because I have it in my head that she is not only one of the smartest people I know (very, very, very true), but also a medical authority in my life.
So my question is: Is there a “How to be a grown up” class that I’ve missed? I’d ask if it comes with being a mom but my friend whom I mentioned last isn’t a mother. Does it come with age? In all of these instances, I’ve wanted to say “HOW DO YOU GUYS KNOW THIS STUFF?” A class? A manual? A cute Jiminy Cricket-like presence?
Who has allowed me to live on my own and make adult decisions? Well, until I figure out how to sign up for the Life Class: Ice cream for dinner? definitely. Mac and cheese for breakfast? You betcha.