Becoming Grown-Up: Pajamas

How can I call myself a grown-up if I don't have grown-up pajamas?  Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) I got the most delightful present: Big kid pajamas.  They’re blue, they button-up in the front, and they remind me of Mike Brady.  Nutshell: They’re fabulous.  My brother calls them my granny pajamas, because my grandma always wears silky button-ups, but I’m convinced they’re awesome.  Something about them make me feel so...adult.  

This Christmas I want THESE, and if we can find some that Landon Paul and I can match in, I might be heaven.----------------->

Becoming a Grown-Up: Gilmore Girls & Cookie Dough

At this stage of my life, I pretty much do the same thing every day: Get up, go to work, come home, get cracking on the house, and then 'becoming someone' projects .  The other day was the same as always.  I got home, got the laundry going, cleaned, and made dinner.  I put it in the oven and then sat down to eat cookie dough and watch Gilmore Girls until dinner was done/Landon got home.  It was so incredibly luxurious, but just moments later, it hit me: I was a grown up.

*Someone once said if you say the word grown-up (Instead of adult) you're not a grown up. (Can you name that person?)  Guess what?  I'm going to say it anyway.* 

I looked around and realized I was eating a bowl of cookie dough and watching Gilmore Girls and no one was there to tell me I was going to get salmonella poisoning and to do something productive.  It’s official.  I’m a big kid now.

And you know what the best part was?  The realization that I was grown-up wasn't because I had down grown-up things all day like working and cooking and cleaning, it was the fact that I was eating a bowl of cookie dough and watching Gilmore Girls and no one was there to stop me from the glutenous behavior.  That is all.