I Don’t Want to Grow Up (Some Days)

“I wish it were November again…I want to draw hand turkeys.”

The table went into a small, stunned silence. My boss looked up from her cup of coffee and was apparently the only one together enough in the head to respond.

“What? Are you serious?”

I shrugged my shoulders and poked at my cottage cheese, “Why not? It was fun and I drew that mountain landscape with the crayons during the rest of the meeting…” I caught a confused look out of the corner of my eye. I turned fully to the rest of the table.

“WHAT?! It was fun!” I pointed to my boss defensively, “There’s nothing wrong with liking to play with crayons!”

A very quick visual inventory of my 4 breakfast companions/teammates sent the message: Uh…you’re a dork, Lily. You would have thought that I had told them I like to wear sailor suits and knee socks in my off hours. The message was loud and clear to me this morning – it is odd for adults to enjoy regressing into juvenile things like drawing hand turkeys these days.

I think that’s the stupidest notion to ever hit the pavement.

Everyone around me (mostly parents of children I coach and friends who are now having their own kids) that being a child is hard. You have peer pressure, bullying, the need to belong, etc. And yes, I think our kids today are more sensitive (*cough cough* wusses…*cough cough*) and require more emotional coddling than I remember my parents giving to me. However, in the midst of all this great concern for kids in the world – we lose sight of something that is equally (if not more) important.

BEING AN ADULT IS TWICE AS HARD!

Whether you want to admit it or not – we have the same problems as kids with peer pressure, bullying, and the need to belong. But now add all those wonderful adult “responsibilities.” We have jobs and deadlines. We wonder if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives alone. If we’re not alone – we wonder if we’ll make it through our lives without killing our significant other/spouse. Some of us wonder where we’ll be living from month to month, others are far worse off wonder where their next meal is coming from. Taxes, declining health, war, politics, and not to mention taking care of the ones you love!

With all this on our minds – it makes childhood and its activities look very inviting. A massage once a month is nice…but do you remember the relaxing satisfaction of really good and messy finger painting session? Laying back next to the pool is great, but don’t you long for the exhilaration of a HUGE cannonball?

I’m not the only one who likes their kiddie time. Once, I was traveling to London on a week long business trip. One of my colleagues came with me. As the plane settled into cruising, she pulled out colored pencils and a coloring book. She told me it helped clear her head to concentrate staying in the lines! One of my college guy friends had Play-Doh that he rolled in his hands during final exams. Deep in the depths of my closet, there’s a big bucket of Legos I haul out when I just want to build something! I never deny Lenny his video gaming time – nothing like a little bonding over a game of Tetris to keep a marriage going.

While my work colleagues would beg to differ, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with shutting the “adult” in us off every once in awhile. In fact, I think we should nurture the kid in us. Maybe we would learn to relax a little more and let less of the stupid crap bother us. Perhaps if the girls at work broke out the crayons more often – we’d be less grumpy about projects gone awry.

Hmm…maybe I should recommend macaroni mosaics next week?

But seriously…if you keep the inner child in your locked up, maybe you should let them out to stretch? Instead of screaming and ranting you’re not happy – why don’t you make yourself happy and play an old school board game (Hungry Hungry Hippos, anyone?). Break out a deck of cards, not for Texas Hold ‘Em, but a good old game of War or Speed. Lick the spoon. Make a mud pie. In the extreme…organize a game of tag or even take a milk and cookie break! You might find yourself feeling a whole lot better if you let yourself regress a little.

The adult in you will be there when you get back, I promise.