The Noose

In November of 2007, I returned to the workforce after staying home with my three kids for ten years.  My youngest child was in Kindergarten, and I needed something beyond the mommy and household stuff.  I also wanted to start contributing financially.  We had decided to sacrifice lots of things, especially money and the “extras” it can buy, so I could be home with our kids.  It was extremely important to us.  Two weeks after I returned to work, my husband’s tumor was discovered.  In addition to the toll on my husband’s health and the incredible stress it placed on the family emotionally, it began to destroy any hopes we had of financial freedom.  Over the past almost 7 years, any hope of financial freedom is gone, and has been replaced with the dream of just being able to be comfortable every month.  By comfortable, I mean that the mortgage and monthly bills are paid, we have enough food on the table, and perhaps we can do a few fun things during the month.  Our hopes of providing college educations to our children, or going on great vacations, or giving our daughters big, beautiful weddings are gone.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to retire.

We are in survival mode and have been every single month since my husband stopped working in October of 2009.  It’s a way of life for us.  It is possibly the absolute most stressful part of my life.  It’s like constantly dangling from a noose, trying to hold yourself up so you don’t suffocate. In addition to raising three kids, managing a household, and dealing with an ill husband, I work to try to make ends meet.  Medical retirement and disability payments barely cover the mortgage and food.  There have been times we considered shopping at the food bank.  We get energy assistance so our electricity doesn’t get shut off in the winter.  Our kids qualify for free or reduced lunch.  We didn’t pay our mortgage for 6 months, and still could barely make it.  We get free stuff for our household from the dump.  When we have a little extra, we do something fun so our kids don’t have to miss out all the time.  We do our best to give them things, and as a result we sacrifice what we want, or live with that much more stress.  They only get one childhood, and I refuse to make them feel “poor,” or let them feel as if they are missing out.

My husband and I have both worked since we were about 12 years old.  We both have a good work ethic, and we do what we need to do to provide for our family.  We always paid our bills, and were responsible with our money.  Then the illness took it all away.  I have sat around dinner tables where people talked about how “irresponsible” people are who “live beyond their means” or don’t “keep up with their mortgage.”  They criticize people who need help with mortgage programs, or who “live off the government.”   Comments are made by people who have no idea what it’s like to be in that situation.  People judge with no regard to the facts.  They judge people who would do anything to be healthy and provide for their family.  Living this way isn’t laziness or irresponsibility.

We commonly hear comments from friends or family members who complain about how they struggle or how upset they are over some financial stress they are having.  These same people are hiring people to clean their houses, or are taking their kids out to eat or to some fun event several times a week.  They are planning multiple vacations every year, and buying new cars.  I even had one person tell me they were a little upset that they are now making so much money that they are in a new tax bracket and no longer qualify for the child tax credit.  Their tax refund was going to be less this year.  I sat there like an asshole and gave sympathy, when what I really wanted to say was that I would literally give one of my arms to be in the next tax bracket, rather than struggling every damn day of my life.  I had just told her that we qualified for a new child tax credit because we are low income.  These same people know how hard it is for us.  Sort of.

 

There is a shame that goes along with the way we are living.  I don’t know why.  Shame implies that we have done something wrong.  We haven’t.  We’ve tried to do everything right for ourselves and for our children.  I never, ever share our true financial story with anyone.  We pretend it isn’t as bad as it is. People have some idea, but they don’t know what it’s really like.  It’s exhausting and hopeless and depressing and frustrating.  The stress leaves me teetering at the edge sometimes.  Yet, somehow, we always make it through.  We are lucky to have some family and friends who have been Godsends at times.  There are times we wouldn’t have made it without them.  The struggle is never ending, and sometimes people get tired of helping.  We don’t know if we will ever be able to repay people for what they’ve done to help us.  There is no end in sight to the struggle.  We try to pay it forward and help other people when we can.

People talk openly about the physical, emotional and psychological effects of chronic illness on themselves and their families.  But when it comes to money, people keep it to themselves.  Yet, I suspect it’s one of the most detrimental aspects of living with chronic illness for everyone involved.  It is by far the most stressful part of my life and affects my mood, stress level, health and outlook on life every single day.  The nonchalant comments from other people make it even worse.  I don’t know what the solution is, but putting it out there without shame is a good start.

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Call Me Crazy

I’m about to do the unthinkable.   I never thought this day would come, to be honest.  I had to think about it for a couple of months, weigh the pros and cons, and seriously consider the fact that I just might be certifiably insane.  What would I be missing?  Would my life be over?  What the hell will I do with myself?  How will I survive?  Then it struck me like a lightning bolt.  These thoughts are precisely why I need to do this.  I need to shut down my Facebook page.  That’s right.  I said it.  I’m shutting it down.  Not permanently…I’m not that loony.  The plan is to shut it down for the summer.

For the most part, I have enjoyed Facebook over the past few years.  I’ve gotten to know people better, and I like that I can see what’s going on, and share in people’s life events.  But over the past year or so, I’ve found myself more and more irritated with the nonsense and insignificant dreariness that people feel the need to share with the world.  I’m confident that I can make it through my day without knowing where people ate dinner the night before, what cashier is out sick at the local Walmart, and whose kid saved the world from some imminent disaster.  I can manage to drink my morning coffee without seeing someone’s 137,868th  selfie or picture taken by their bff.  Here’s a newsflash:  We all know what you look like…you haven’t changed since yesterday.   I’m also confident that I can survive, and so too will other people survive, if I don’t share the crap I share, too.  Facebook is ultimately a crapfest of who did more, who did it better, who looks better, who went more places, who has a better imaginary life, who has a smarter kid, not to mention those awesome vague posts that are simply an attention-getting tactic.  I need a break.  I spend more time being irritated than I do enjoying.

As I thought about doing this, I realized I need a plan.  I can’t just go cold turkey without figuring out a way to spend my time sans FB.  At first, I was almost in a panic and came very close to ditching the whole idea.  Then I thought, what did we all do before the internet and social media?  We all managed to have a life before Facebook was invented.  So, I made a plan.  This summer, I am going to do the many things I’ve claimed I didn’t have time for over the past several years.  I am going to read as many books as I can.  I am going to go to the gym several times a week.  My family joined the YMCA, and my kids are just as eager to go exercise as I am.  We are also doing a major nutritional overhaul in our house…no more junk food or processed food.  Well, occasional junk food.  Let’s be realistic.  I used to draw and do artistic things.  I want to start drawing again.  I find it incredibly relaxing and enjoyable.  I lose hours at a time, just by creating a drawing.  I also want to get my house in order so it’s not an embarrassment when people drop by.  I HATE cleaning, so if I get it cleared out and have a plan to keep it up, it will free up time to do the things I enjoy.  I want to get back to nature by going to the beach, going on hikes, or just sitting outside and reading.  I want to spend more time with my kids and give them my full attention.  I want to write.

I’m sharing this all through my blog for two reasons.  One, it’ll keep me honest.  If you all know I’m ditching facebook, then you will also know if I sneak back on.  I don’t have the self-control to do this on my own.  I need to be able to tell myself that I’ll look like a spineless moron if I don’t do it.  It’s the embarrassment factor, which is always a good way for me to not do something.   The second reason is that this is all part of an experiment that I will be writing a blog post on in September.  The experiment is just to see if I can do it, and what I can accomplish by getting rid of a serious time suck in my life.  If I can do it, other people can, too.  Life is too short to waste time reading about what other people are doing.  Life is about going out and doing.  If I die tomorrow, I will be much more satisfied that I spent today sitting on the beach, reading a book, talking to my kids, and enjoying all of OUR moments.

Abandonment

As I’ve written about in previous blog posts, I have a chronically ill husband.  It’s not a disease that will go away.  It’s progressive and incurable at this point.  It can be manageable, but it’s also unpredictable, and some days are good days and some days are bad days.  Chronic illness affects families in many different ways.  Patients and spouses go through many emotions at different times.  An ongoing theme that I’ve noticed affects both my husband and I, and has a ripple effect on the people in our lives, is abandonment.  We abandon and we feel abandoned.  I can’t speak for my husband, but I can share what it’s like for me.  I have always kept this stuff bottled up inside me for many reasons.  I feel like I have to be strong and be able to handle everything.  But I can’t.  I don’t want people who leave me out, to know I feel abandoned because I don’t want them to feel bad.  So, I feel bad instead.  I feel guilty for having less than stellar emotions.  I don’t know why.  I’m human and entitled to be negative at times, and feel sadness, and feel upset with people.  Mostly, I don’t want other people to worry about me, or have my hard times affect their happy lives.  I know in my head that I shouldn’t feel this way, but since when does that matter?  We feel what we feel.  That is one of the reasons I write.  It’s therapeutic for me, and I think it helps other people who are going through the same thing.  Writing lets me get out my feelings without having to say them.  It’s easier for me.

One of the hardest things that I have gone through over the past 6 ½ years, is the feeling of being abandoned.  There are people who I have thought would be there for me who have not.  I don’t think it’s necessarily intentional, but nothing hurts more than people you care about becoming scarce when you are left to hold together a family affected by illness.  There have been many people who have stepped up and been great supports to us, and for that we will be forever grateful.  But there are others who have not.  My husband has told me that he feels left out of things, and he says it doesn’t bother him, but I think it does.  I know it bothers the hell out of me when I feel left out.  It happens frequently.  We aren’t sure why.  Maybe people think we can’t afford something, or he won’t be up to it, or maybe we just aren’t as fun because we can’t do everything everyone else does.  We wish people would invite us to do things and leave it up to us to decide if we can or not.  Sometimes we will be able to, and other times not.  I need to get out and keep living my life and do fun things.  He is still living and he should get out and do things, too.

Abandonment goes in both directions.  I work, take care of a household, and I’m busy with three older children who have places to go and activities to do.  I’m also looking for a better job.  Thankfully, my husband is still at a point where he doesn’t need me to be a caretaker, but there are days he doesn’t feel well and I do take care of him.  I spend a large part of my life doing for others, and there are those times when a crisis happens and suddenly there is a trip to the hospital.  Out of necessity, I abandon those things that aren’t of vital importance.  My house tends to be messy…who wants to spend a free day cleaning the stinkin house?  I do whatever amount of laundry needs to be done in order to give us clean clothes for a couple of days.  I’ve also abandoned certain dreams…buying a bigger, nicer house…spending my older years traveling with my husband…retiring, in general.  There are those times, when I don’t feel like doing anything on the weekends, so I don’t seek people out to do things with.  When you spend your weeks always doing, a day off to do nothing is a luxury.  A day to myself, doing anything I want to do is almost unheard of.   Because of this, I have done my share of abandoning some people.  One of the people that I don’t spend nearly enough time with is my Mom.  But she is the one person in my life who I know will NEVER abandon me, no matter what.  It’s not fair to her.   I am going to change that.  The irony of all of this is that I feel abandoned, and the one person who has never abandoned me is the one I leave out.  Sometimes, I just feel like I have nothing left to give.  I’m tired.  There are also times I feel like I’ve abandoned my husband, but again, sometimes I feel like I am depleted of whatever I have to give.  I have also abandoned some of the people who have stopped bothering with us.  That was hard to do, but necessary for my peace of mind.  Sometimes, you just have to let people go.

All of these feelings lead to that old cycle of guilt and resentment.  There are millions of people who are going through an illness with a family member.  We have become a caretaking society…people take care of parents with Alzheimer’s, children with autism and other disabilities, cancer patients, chronically ill family members.  It’s not an unusual thing to have someone in your life that needs to be taken care of.  Someday, YOU may need to be taken care of.  Or you may be taking care of someone.  Take a moment to reach out to someone who is going through this.  Please understand that a lot of times, the person may say no to an invitation.  Keep asking anyway, because it makes a world of difference to know that someone thought of them and took the time to at least ask.  It helps people to not feel abandoned and isolated, and that goes a long way.

Grandma

This blog post will be a little different today.  I am writing about my grandmother who is celebrating her 90th birthday today.  While most of my readers don’t know her, I wanted to write about her because she has been one of the greatest influences on my life, and one of the ways I can honor her is with my words.  I will be giving her a copy of this post, in a card at her upcoming party.

 

Dear Gram,

Today, on the occasion of your 90th birthday, I want to express to you all the things I love about you and the ways in which you have influenced me over the past 46 years of my life.  You have been there for me since day one and you have always been like a second mother to me.  I don’t remember the first two years of my life when we lived right next door to you, but going to your house, even today, makes me feel like I’m home.  You are always so happy to see me and always willing to make coffee and have a bite to eat and spend time visiting.  I feel like I can talk to you about almost anything and your words of advice stay with me.  Some of my favorite memories from childhood include sleeping over at your house and staying up late to watch TV with you while Grandpa fell asleep on the couch, and the shopping trips and errands we would go on where you would always buy me “a little something.”  I remember all your roast beef dinners, and the holidays that were always celebrated at your house. Christmas will never be the same anywhere else.

I love to hear your stories about France, your childhood, your parents and especially the World War II stories when the Germans occupied France.  Of course, I also love to hear about how you met Grandpa, and the night my Mom was born on your mother’s dining room table.  You are a master story teller with a gift of description that brings your listeners to the place and time of your stories.  You are always willing to share your personal stories, even if it means making fun of yourself or sharing something embarrassing that you did.  Your story telling is one of my most favorite things about you.  My children also love your stories and I love that they will remember you and your stories.

One of the things I admire most about you is your incredible artistic talent.  I don’t know anyone who has a knack for decorating like you do, and I don’t know anyone else who takes it upon themselves to walk into their daughter’s or granddaughter’s home and make adjustments to the decor without being asked.  We never minded because it always looked a million times better!  And you did it from your heart, and to help us love our homes as much as you love yours.  You are amazing with a sewing machine and I know over your many years you have made wardrobes of clothes, but most impressive and meaningful are the many wedding gowns, head pieces, and hats you have made.  I hope someday one of my girls will wear the beautiful head piece you made me for my wedding.  Then there is the knitting.  There have been many babies who have been blessed with the baby sweaters and hats you have made over the years.  I cherish the sweaters you made for my babies, and all the hats and scarves that kept my children warm over the years.  My favorite thing, though, is that every year you take a baby sweater to the hospital on Grandpa’s birthday and donate it to an underprivileged newborn baby.  You are always so generous with your love and talents.

Your generosity is another quality you have that I admire.  You have always been willing to help out any of your children or grandchildren with anything…whether it was a home cooked meal, or an item from your home that someone could use, or even cash to help someone get by during a rough patch.  You have a way of giving without making the other person feel bad or guilty, and you have no idea how much that is appreciated by all of us.  You also are willing to help strangers.  I’ve seen you help elderly people in stores, or assist a child with something out in public, or simply donate something to a stranger when one of your children or grandchildren mention they know someone in need.  I also remember several holidays when you took in people you didn’t know who had no family nearby, and let them spend the holiday with our big family and enjoy an incredible dinner.  You share your love and let your light shine, and the world is a better place for it.  I know mine is.

Your job as mother is where you shine the brightest.   You took care of your children in a way that every mother should.  Their needs were always first, they always had a hot meal, beautiful home made clothing, a happy place to live, and tons of love.  You took care of Grandpa throughout your life together, right up to his last breath.  He was so lucky to call you his wife.  You have that same love for your grandchildren and great grandchildren.  Everyone knows that Mom, Grandma or Grandee will take care of them.  You taught my Mom how to be a Mom, and she taught me how to be a Mom.  I hope that my girls continue to carry it on.

Grandma, you are one of the strongest women I know and that is one of the biggest influences you have had on me.  Life hasn’t always been easy for you.  You’ve survived a war, and left your country to come here to raise a family.  Our family has had it’s share of difficult times, but you are a pillar of strength for everyone.  You never let it get the best of you.  You have survived the worst of nightmares in the loss of your child,  Uncle Jeff.  I can’t imagine the devastation of losing a child, and I know it was devastation for you.  But you carry on, and live and laugh.  That is an incredible gift to him, and the rest of your family.  So many mothers would get lost in their grief and never be the same again, but you are still here for the rest of us.  As I go through difficult times in my life, I think of you and your strength and it helps me carry on and do the same for my family.  Thank you so much for that.

I could go on, but those were the things I especially wanted you to know.   I love you more than words can express, and I want you to know that you will forever occupy a large piece of my heart.  I will carry you with me for the rest of my days, and I will be here for you for the rest of yours.  Have a very happy 90th birthday, Gram.  I love you!

 

Renee

The Abyss

In November of 2007, the words “they found a tumor” altered the course of my husband’s life, my life, and my children’s lives.  Those words started a two year journey to find a diagnosis, followed by several years of treatment attempts, horrible illness,  multiple hospitalizations, incredible stress and strain on our family, more questions than answers, and ultimately, the realization that this wasn’t ever going away.  In fact, it would only continue to get worse…his disease is progressive and incurable.  The roller coaster of emotions never stops, but I have learned a lot about myself, the people in my life, and life with a chronically ill family member.

 

For myself, this isn’t an easy journey.  People tell me all the time that I am an incredibly strong person.  I am strong because I have no choice but to be strong.  What would my alternative be?   I can choose to give up and stop living, or I can choose to be strong, do what needs to be done for my family, and be here for my husband.  I’m strong, but not infallible. I make a choice every day to laugh, enjoy my family, find a few things for myself that I enjoy, and try not to get sucked into the abyss of never ending illness.  However, there are a lot of struggles that I endure every day that people who haven’t ever been in this situation would fail to grasp.  People who haven’t lived this may even think less of me for feeling the way I sometimes feel.  You just can’t fully understand it unless you’ve lived it.

 

There are two emotions that play a constant role in my life…guilt and resentment.  I didn’t sign up for this.  Who would?   I have a lot of days that I resent what this illness has done to me, my husband and the life together that we will likely never have.  We won’t spend our later years traveling together, or going out and doing things with friends, or staying up late having interesting discussions.  Those things are few and far between for us already.  I know this isn’t anyone’s fault, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.  I feel resentful of friends and family members who WILL get to do those things, or who can go on great vacations, or who express worries about money when they are making two or three times what we are struggling to live on. I am resentful when I see other couples out doing things together.  I am resentful when I see other families with healthy Dads, actively engaging in activities with their children when my children’s Dad barely has enough energy to get through a quiet day at home.

 

The usual emotion followed by resentment is a big, healthy dose of guilt.  I feel guilty for feeling resentful of the illness, and other people who have an easier life.  I feel guilty for yearning for more from life. I would never wish this on anyone.  I am happy for people who are happy with life.  But sometimes I still resent it, which makes me feel guilty.  I have a lot of things to be grateful for.  I have a husband who loves me, three amazing children who I love more than life itself, some incredible friends, incredibly supportive parents, and many family members who have always been there for us.  I get it.  I have many good things in my life, too.  But that doesn’t take away the resentment and the guilt for feeling resentful.  It is what it is, but it doesn’t make it easier to accept.  Again, for people not in my shoes, this may be hard to understand.

 

I tend to keep my feelings to myself, and withdraw from people during my darker times.  I am an introspective person, and usually prefer to solve my own issues on my own, and in my own time.  I’m sharing this not because I want anyone to solve this issue for me, or because I’m looking for sympathy.  These are my issues that I deal with every day.  They aren’t right or wrong…they just “are.”  I’m sharing this so that people can maybe understand what it’s like to live this type of life.  There are many people out there feeling isolated, misunderstood, resentful, guilty and hopeless.

 

People often ask what  they can do to help a family or person dealing with illness.  They usually mean by actively doing things…making a meal,  or helping with a task.  There are other ways you can help.  You can help emotionally by letting them know that you are there if they need you.  You can help by realizing that your every day issues are issues they would give anything to have, rather than the stress they are living with on a long term basis.  You can help by including them in things so they don’t feel isolated.  You can also help by being sincere in your interest in how someone is doing.  Don’t ask if you don’t REALLY want to be a listening ear. It is noticed when you aren’t really paying attention to what someone is telling you.  You can help by listening without trying to give advice.  Advice is nice if it’s asked for, but mostly it’s just nice to be listened to and sympathized with.  When I feel as if I’ve been really heard, it makes a world of difference.  It makes the resentment and guilt go away for a little while.  It gives me hope.

Diet Delusions

I recently decided to eliminate wheat from my diet, and seriously restrict other grains as well.  I also decided to “give up” sugar.  By “give up,” I mean reduce the amount I consume on a daily basis from 5 pounds to 2 or 3 pounds.  Don’t laugh.  While I am exaggerating, giving up even a small amount of sugar is really, really hard for me.  That’s because it’s addicting…REALLY addicting.  And I like sugary stuff.  Remember, grains are sugar in disguise, so I’m almost insanely sugar free.  Thankfully, there are some wizards out there who have come up with alternatives to the white stuff, and they are just fabulous if you have no taste buds, whatsoever.

The first would be fake sugar…Equal, Sweet and Low, Natrataste, etc.  These are shitty tasting chemicals that cause cancer,  digestive issues, the bubonic plague, hangnails and other icky things that people tend not to enjoy.  There is also Stevia, the “natural” sugar alternative that people like to use because it’s much better for you.  Let’s be honest though…it gives food a nasty aftertaste that leaves me feeling that it’s nothing even close to sugar.  Stevia is okay in baked goods, but it’s atrocious in a cup of coffee.  I love my coffee, and I’ve tried hard to like sugar alternatives in my coffee, but I just can’t do it.  I still drink my coffee with good, old fashioned, white table sugar.  If that makes me unhealthy, then so be it.  Nobody messes with my coffee.

Another love of mine is ice cream.  There was a time, not so long ago, that I could and would eat a ginormous bowl of ice cream with either hot fudge or chocolate sprinkles piled on top.  It really is my favorite dessert.  I never get tired of it.  I could eat it every single night for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.  However, in my quest to lose weight, feel better, and be all around healthier, I have seriously restricted my ice cream intake to maybe once every few weeks (except for the past 3 nights because I made the mistake of buying mint chocolate chip and I hear it calling my name from the freezer at approximately 10 p.m. every night until it’s gone).  This morning, I stumbled across a suggestion by another wheat and sugar eliminator, to eat yogurt topped with strawberries for dessert because it’s “just like eating ice cream.”  Um, excuse me?  What kind of delusional, crack smoking, half wit has the nads to suggest that THAT would be anywhere close to the same as eating a bowl of ice cream?  The only thing even remotely close to ice cream, is friggin ice cream.  End of story.

There are numerous grain free desserts that call for ground flax meal.  I was so excited to try a chocolate muffin-in-a-mug one night, because I was PMSing and I wanted some damn chocolate.  It was really quick and easy to mix up and pop in the microwave for two minutes.  They suggested topping it with whipped cream, so I did.  It smelled heavenly.  I couldn’t wait to eat it.  I took one bite of that atrocity and nearly gagged.  It was like eating chocolate flavored coffee grounds.  I tried to like it for several bites.  I decided that it wasn’t fit for the dog.  I don’t care how good it is for me, I won’t bake anything with flax meal again.

One food that is allowed and encouraged when you eliminate grains and sugars from your diet is chocolate.  However, it should be 85% cacao.  The antioxidants are really good for you, and it’s low in sugar.  VERY low in sugar.  TOO low in sugar.  In fact, it’s nothing like a Hershey bar, or Dove chocolate, or kisses, or M&Ms, or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.  The “anti wheat people” claim that it’s such a wonderful treat.  They eat one whole square of it and are satisfied.  These people are freaks.  They shouldn’t be allowed to breed.  I will eat dark chocolate…the normal dark chocolate, thank you.  And I will eat more than one square.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am really enjoying the wheat free lifestyle, and most of the food is just delicious.  I feel great, have a lot of energy, and have started losing weight.  I don’t miss wheat, or other grains, and I’m okay with not eating most sugary stuff.  Sometimes, I fall off the no-wheat-no-sugar train, and that’s okay.  I’m not doing this to prove to anyone else that I can do it.  I’m doing this for me, and if I choose to drink my coffee with sugar, or eat a bowl of ice cream once in a while, or eat a Hershey bar with almonds one night, then I’m okay with that.  I don’t need to impress the non-wheat people, or the people in my life who point out that I’m not following my “diet,” or who think my way of eating is “just a fad.”  The point is, I’m a lot healthier, but I’m still enjoying a few of my favorite things.

If Adults Acted Like Kids

When hanging out with toddlers or pre-schoolers, people love to talk about how sweet and innocent they are.  They go through their days being spontaneous, not caring what anyone else thinks.  They immerse themselves in their experiences and live for self-pleasure.  I’ve heard numerous adults admire that about young children, and question when we lost that innate spontaneity.  I frequently watch young children and wonder to myself what it would look like if an adult were doing such things.  This is for my own amusement and entertainment.  I have spent a long time “researching” the behavior of little kids and what would happen if adults lived in the same spontaneous way that children do.  This is what that would look like:

 

At a business lunch:  Professionals and executives would be trying to seal the deal over chicken nuggets or spaghetti and meatballs.  At least one person would be blowing bubbles in his chocolate milk, while another stacks suger dispensers, salt and pepper shakers, and silverware in a tower.  Perhaps that would be the architect or builder of the group.  Yet another would be scribbling on his placemat.  Someone would likely have sauce rubbed all over his face and in his hair.  There may even be one well dressed woman crawling under the table, or flinging her legs over the back of the booth seat.  Never mind the potential for launching peas at each other with spoons.

 

At a business meeting:  Rolling chairs.  Think of the fun that can be had in a conference room with rolling chairs.  I’m thinking races around the table, and spinning each other until you can’t walk a straight line.  That sounds way more fun than watching some boring presentation on sales or marketing.

 

At the doctor’s office:  A husband brings his wife to the doctor.  She needs a physical.  She spends an hour in the waiting room, playing with the germ infested toys.  Once in a while, she stops to approach another woman.  She stands in her personal space, stares her down, and then looks her up and down, from head to toe, judging her by the way she looks.  Then, they start to play together…one puts a toy in her mouth, drops it on the floor, and the other picks it up, and puts it in HER mouth.  Finally, they get called into a room.  The man undresses the woman while she fights him the entire time.  Once she is in her underwear, she spins around on the doctor’s stool, climbs on and off the table until the paper is a shredded mess, plays lightning storm with the lights, and touches every last medical tool available.  The visit ends with her screaming bloody murder and fighting the nurse, the doctor, the husband, and six bouncers as they try to give her a shot.

 

At the grocery store:  Picture a mature couple walking into the grocery store.  They select a carriage.  The wife holds it still, while the husband climbs in to the back.  It would be way funnier if he tried to get into the little seat in front, but that would require a full on extrication by the fire department at the end of the trip.  So, let’s stick to the back.  She struggles to push him through the store because, as usual, she picks a carriage that only wants to go left, and of course, he weighs 200 pounds which makes it more of a challenge.  Five minutes into the shopping experience, he starts to whine because he’s bored.  He starts grabbing crap off the shelves.  He keeps standing up, so she has to continually remind him that he needs to sit.  He begs for some garbage food item in every aisle, and pitches a fit every time she says no.  The other shoppers give her dirty looks because clearly she can’t control his behavior.  Everyone thinks she’s a shitty wife.

 

In the car:  They leave the grocery store.  She tries to strap him into his seat belt and he does the whole “arching his back thing” while crying and screaming that he wants to go home.  Once they’re moving, he calms down and entertains himself by making faces at the people in other cars.  He might even suck his thumb.  Eventually he gets sleepy, and dozes off.  By this time, the wife notices a scent that indicates he needs his pull-up changed.

 

There are many scenarios involving children that would be way more entertaining if adults were the key players and not the kids.  Picture an adult stripping off his clothes and running naked through the playground.  Wait, that would just be creepy.  Bad example.  Picture adults playing in the dirt, or tossing stuff in the toilet and swishing it around with their hands.  Picture them running everywhere, and falling on their faces like a two year old.  Picture them riding the dog, climbing on the furniture, having a tug-of-war over a toy, or sticking a metal object in a socket to see what happens.  You can switch the players no matter where you are or what you’re doing.  It really is funny.  Next time you’re stuck in a board meeting or some mind-numbing adult activity, switch the players.  It might be a social faux-pas to act on these ideas, and you would likely appear to be mentally ill or at the very least socially immature for doing any of it.  But nobody can condemn you for simply thinking about it, and honestly, as long as you’re entertaining yourself, that’s all that really matters.