Insanity of Motherhood

Motherhood, marriage, and midlife.

A Wee Bit on the Immature Side

3 Comments

“You can be young once.  But you can always be immature.” – Dave Barry

As a child, I used to love the Christmas season.  So much excitement.  Presents to open, wonderful foods to eat and even a little Christmas caroling.  But being a child at Christmas is very different from being an adult.

Prior to our recent move, I made my goal to get all the Christmas ‘stuff’ out of the way.  I sent out holiday cards, purchased all the out-of-town, teacher and family gifts.  I arranged everything including professional photos.  Since the I’ve had kids, the list of holiday chores grow longer each year.

This year the Christmas season seemed like another obligation, added to my already long list.  Sounds a bit immature, right?  Being immature seemed to be on my agenda this year.

On Christmas eve, my family has a tradition.  We all open one gift.  Prior to our opening session, something happened.  Something bad.

“I’m going to put my shoes away and I will join everyone in the living room.”- Me

“Ahhhh.  What is that on my bed?  My comforter?  Oh no, is someone bleeding?”- Me

On my bed was a large red blob.  It was bright red.  I ran to the living room to check on the family.

“Is someone hurt?  There is blood on my bed.” – Mom

I spotted red marks on my little son.

“What happened buddy?  Did you hurt yourself?” – Mom

“No, it’s just Sharpie.” – Little Boy

“Sharpie.  You mean Sharpie, like the permanent marker?” – Me

English: A Sharpie® marker next to a Shoupie m...

Image via Wikipedia

“Yes.” – Little Boy

“But how did you get hold of a Sharpie marker?” – Me

“Him.” – Little Boy

My young son pointed to my oldest son.

“You gave him a red Sharpie to draw with on my bed?” – Me (Fear quickly turning to anger)

“Um, no…I must have left it on your bed when I was wrapping presents.” – Old Boy

I headed back to my bedroom and looked at the red stain on my bed.

“It is ruined.  Totally, ruined.  Why were you on MY bed, wrapping presents, with a red Sharpie marker? – Me (yelling)

“I was wrapping presents and used the Sharpie to put names on. I am so sorry.  How was I supposed to know that kid ( pointing to Little Boy) would ruin your comforter?  Why aren’t you mad at him?” – Tall Boy

“I am mad at him.   I am mad at both of you.  Do you realize how hard I have worked the last few weeks.  Taking care of the new home, Christmas and all the while feeding everyone!  I am sick and tired of people thinking my things are community property.  Go ahead and open your presents, I’m going to bed.” – Me

The family stood at my bedroom door for a moment and decieded (wisely) to leave me in my room alone.  I put on my pajamas and started to get ready for bed.  I sat on my bed for a few minutes staring at the red stain.

A few moments later my husband knocked on the door.

“Honey, can I come in?” – Husband

“No.  Go away. I do not want to talk to anyone.” – Me

“Come on Sweetie.  It was an accident.  No one meant to ruin the comforter.  Our bedroom is the only room that locks and it was a good place to wrap presents.” – Husband

“No one asked to go in MY room and now my bed is destroyed.” – Me

“But Honey, it’s Christmas Eve.  We will get a new comforter.  Don’t you want to be with the family?’ – Husband

“No, I don’t.  You go on without me.” – Me

“What would it take for you to come out and join us?” – Husband

I thought for a moment.

“Nothing.  I’m not coming out.” – Me

I stomped my foot and did my best pouting lip.   I sat on my bed for a long time.  At least it felt long.  The longer I sat, the sillier I felt. I could hear the boys and my husband talking and laughing.  I felt like a teenage girl determined to prove a point to her parents.

That is the thing about being a parent, sometimes you must act mature, even when you don’t feel like it.  I decided I was punishing myself by not being with the family.  I flipped the comforter over, took a deep breath and walked out to the living room.  My older boy and little boy ran to me and gave me a big hug.  They both apologized.  I hugged them back.

It was just an accident.  A foolish, senseless and stupid accident.  They do happen sometimes.  Luckily, I am mature enough to understand.

Author: insanityofmotherhood

Mom of three boys, wife, educator, and all around nice gal in the middle of a midlife something. It's not a crisis, but it's something…

3 thoughts on “A Wee Bit on the Immature Side

  1. well……. glad to know that you are “human” just like the rest of us. To hear the LOVE 7 SUPPORT from the people you care about the most is pretty awesome!!

  2. Sometimes we all have the right to be angry, but the good sense to get over it. That’s maturity.

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