I became a parent. The wife and I had it pretty good. Good paying jobs, do whatever wherever whenever. Lived la vida Loca.
Then 15-20% of our pay went to childcare and for the first time in my life ‘me, me, me’ was replaced with, well, I can’t cause of the kids.
So, when did you feel you were truly an adult?
The day my dad died.
December 25, 1975.
I was 9 years old.
Stopped thinking like a child and viewed the entire world with a different set of eyes.
Lets see… I’m 37 (I’m not OLD!) and:
I like to eat Cheerios in the morning for breakfast, but I still will go for the Frosted Flakes first if we have them.
I like to watch saturday morning cartoons, especially, “The Bat Man.”
I have to get at least one toy for Christmas and I still have a hard time getting to sleep on Christmas Eve.
Halloween is still my favorite holiday because we get candy!!!
I’d rather read the comics than the news in the newspaper.
I’d rather watch cartoons than watch sitcoms.
Conclusion:
I’ve never really grown up.
TAG! You’re, “IT”! 
Oh certainly, I do all these things. But it didn’t seem like the weight of the world had descended until now. Since I opened the thread, we had a sick kid that required two be changes before 10pm and another at 1:30 am. He had the same crud the OTHER kid had the previous week. Mom and Dad are fighting off the edges of the same stuff, but it doesn’t seem to be affecting us as much.
I’m thinking it’s ALSO because other family members are now old enough to have needs the wife and I are obligated to assist with.
On top of the kids and the finances they bring, I’ve got a MIL going in for a hysterectomy in a few weeks, a 94 year old grandfather that’s coming to grips with his age (It’s only been the last few weeks that he’s realized he can no longer safely drive…he’s still not happy with going to assisted living, but I think he sees the writing on the wall.)
My Wife’s sister just went through a bankruptcy where they lost their dream/trophy house due to the financial mismanagement of the husband’s company.
I just woke up one morning and thought ‘Hey! Where’d all this ADULT crap come from? I don’t remember things being so complicated in my 20’s.’
That would be yesterday when I said aloud (to my husband, privately): “I cannot wait until they are out of the house and I can do what I want to do, instead of what I think I ought as a role model and parent.”
Which sort of tanked the day, mentally for me. I love my kids deeply and truly, but I am really feeling the pressure between conflicting priorities and desires at present.
Sorry if that is TMI.
Closing on a home, then shortly afterward, going to Sears to buy a lawnmower.
I guess it’ll be in a few weeks when I have to go help my mom after a biopsy. Taking care of a parent is more grown up than taking care of a kid.
I was 40 and I had done a lot of “adult” things by then, but it felt life-changing when I got my ears pierced. Bizarre.
When I stopped hiding my weed from my parents and started hiding it from my kid. 
Getting my first credit card in college…with a $250 limit! I thought I was Big Time Now!
When I finally got off the Daddy Dole forever. It’s been about four months.
Yeah, buying a home was it for me too. I was 55. While saving up for the down payment, there was still some “extra” money for fun stuff. Now, not so much. Actually, not at all.
My father is still alive, and still trying to hand me cash at odd moments (so as to guarantee that I love him, don’t ya know) but now that’s just annoying.
A couple of years ago… I was 23, and sick as all get-out with the flu. I left work early and took the train to my old Brooklyn apartment, got myself some Robitussin, and got myself to sleep. It was the first time I was really sick and alone, and I felt like an adult for the first time.
I also didn’t feel like an adult until our first child came. I was already 31.
Getting married didn’t feel any different than living together as far as being an adult. I just had a wonderful play-mate now. In fact, I didn’t truly feel married until we bought our first house. That is so different from an apartment.
But Kids change everything and you have no choice but to now be responsible and shudder adult.
Jim
I don’t have kids, but it hit me the first time I took one of my friend’s kids somewhere by myself. I was 25, the kid in question was 2 years old, and I took her to the mall one afternoon. I’d done a lot of babysitting in high school and college, but that was the first time I’d taken a child outside of his/her house. It was also the first time I drove with a child in my car, and when I got behind the wheel and saw her in my rearview mirror, all bundled up and strapped into her car seat, it suddenly hit me that I was the grownup: that I had sole responsibility for her, and that she’d look to me for everything while we were out. It was kind of cool, but also kind of scary!
The day after I turned 25, my business partner’s brother died. We (me and the partner) are really close, like brother and sister. My parents were out of town (I lived with them at the time) and my brother and I were already “playing” grown up that week.
So I arranged for baby-sitting for my dog, arranged someone to drop me off at and pick me up at the airport, bought a round trip ticket to Atlanta, rented a car and drove to Athens, GA from ATL, stayed at a stranger’s house overnight, went to the funeral, participated in the post-funeral “events”, drove back to ATL and dropped off the car, stayed in a hotel at the airport, got on a plane and returned home.
Had his brother died a day or two earlier I could not have done any of that because I wasn’t old enough to rent a car. Poor guy was suffering from cancer for about 3 weeks before he finally passed (he had cerebal palsy and couldn’t undergo treatment. He couldn’t speak or communicate in any way so they had to “let” him die…)
It was seriously sad and a big eye opener for me that I could pull all that off myself. I truly felt like an adult. I wrote his parents a letter telling them how he’d changed my life in a big way.
I didn’t feel like I was truly an adult until…
my parent had passed away.
The first time I ever felt like an adult was when someone gave me a sweater for Christmas, and I was genuinely grateful to get it.
I don’t feel like an adult. I don’t feel like a kid either. I feel like an adolescent. Which is appropriate, since I’m 16.
I’ll let you know when I get there. 