As far as an adultitis diagnosis, I think I'm free and clear if a chief indicator is ice cream consumption--I have no problem with the ice cream eating, or enjoying other childhood foods such as hot dogs, hamburgers, french fries, and even the occasional peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
In raising my children, I realize that they give me many chances to escape adulthood. I can play with trains and build with blocks. I can read barnyard books and make the sounds with gusto. I can sing along with Bob and Larry. However, being a mom also brings out the adult in me--that adult who I think might suffer from an advanced case adultitis. I don't mind having to make the hard decisions and I don't mind being unpopular, but what I don't like is that mean impatient mommy voice that screams adulthood.
I once read that the reason that we get frustrated and impatient with our children is that we do not allow or excuse childish behavior. They are children. They will make mistakes and poor judgment calls. I especially have to keep this in mind with Amanda, who is growing up, and yet is still a child. What's even worse is when I squash childlike behavior--being silly, being loud, or dreaming dreams. Of course there is a time and a place for everything, but there certainly is a place for being loud or silly or impractical.
Yesterday I did several things that were childlike:
- Watched the parade and cheered at the man on stilts and clapped with glee when he used a giant hula hoop and then even jumped through it (like jumping rope)
- Later at home we all ended up doing cartwheels in the front yard (including Terry), when Kyle was trying to reenact the ones he saw that morning. I even managed a round-off, which impressed Amanda (and me!). Turning cartwheels and doing backbends in my front yard was a favorite childhood pasttime.