Adulthood came with its own changes.  The surprise of a utility bill with my name on it, and a utility company expecting me, (rather than my parents) to pay it.  I started my journey into independence slowly.  My first living room was filled with spread out folding chairs and my Grandmother’s donated couch.  My end tables were bought at an auction for ten dollars and badly needed refinishing.

My kitchen was full of half empty cabinets and for many years I ate dinner out of the pan I cooked it in to save on dish washing because I had no dishwasher.  I once found a potato that had grown and morphed into a full-size plant months after having been abandoned in a cabinet for no reason I could remember.  

But, I adjusted into adulthood, and eventually obtained pictures in frames rather than posters hung with thumb tacks.  I bought kitchen appliances and learned to operate some of them.  With time, I bought a home of my own and decorated it with adult belongings.  I did fit it to my life style and needs, but I had a nice home with my grown up belongings. 

Dinner, though now served on plates and in bowls, had been consumed in my living room in front of my large, beautiful television since I established my own residence. And my dining room was repurposed with a large, multi-functional Bowflex and elliptical exerciser.  I set up a fan, music speaker, and a small television in my work out paradise.

But, paradise has shifted since I entered the phase in my life called, “parenthood,” with my new needs running confluently with my adulthood needs.  

Because there is a dining room table in my Bowflex room!  Eating in front of the TV still happens, but many meals are in my now multi-purposed Bowflex room, which some all along called the “dining room.”

A dining room table, pushed to the side, and a Bowflex machine pushed to the other side.  Like a tiny Japanese apartment, where the bed folds down from the wall at night, my belongings shift side to side.  The remnants of my unencumbered life, still used on occasion when I fight to get my pre-baby body back battle for space with the demands of family.  The fight for space neatly (or not so neatly) represents with the needs of my current life, and all in a space smaller than I would like.  Tiny House People would approve of the shared space, but to me it is further evidence of my new morph as a ”Mother” and how it shares my current morph of “Responsible Adult”. 

Neither side wins, but each gets a turn at the space.  And I don’t resent the extra challenges, though I wouldn’t mind if a money fairy gifted me with enough for a larger space.