Maturity 101

My friend, Jaq, has made me think quite a bit about maturity lately. She is very anti-maturity (in a good way) but has been thrust into the mature world - just because she's a teacher and has her own apartment and bills and blah blah blah. I hear ya, sister! But even though I sometimes have to act very mature, I'm pretty sure I'm very IMMATURE on the inside. Let me break down my mature/immature qualities for ya...

Mature: I've been married for almost 7 years. Holy crap, that's mature!

Immature: Because Scott does all the budgeting, paying bills, and using spreadsheets and taking care of a house and all that mature stuff, someone has to add a little immaturity around here! Like eating brownie sundaes for breakfast (well, actually all meals) or burping extra loud and then saying, "it's the soda..." even if I'm not drinking soda. You're welcome, Scott.

Mature: I have a toddler...and one on the way. Holy crap, that's more mature than the last one!

Immature: I tell Scott to talk to the baby through the microphone (that's my bellybutton, in case you didn't know). I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of mature.

Mature: I find myself saying more and more, things like, "If I knew then what I know now..." and then I finish that phrase with some very mature insight about age and youth and blah blah blah. I think the neighbor in It's a Wonderful Life says it best when he says, "Youth is wasted on the wrong people" (remember that scene where George is talking about kissing Mary after the dance and the neighbor is like, "kiss her already!" and George starts giving him a hard time. I knew you'd remember). Anyway, I think that phrase grows more true every single day.

Immature: Something else that gets better every single day - sweats and hoodies. I wear hoodies like it's my job. Home, in public, it doesn't matter. Hoodie it is.

Mature: I have a blog with aspirations that someday I'd get my act together and make a living off having a blog. (Only mature people do that...)

Immature: I pretend the people actually read my blog. Pretend people don't pay the bills.

Mature: We're working with an ARCHITECT (crazy mature) to design an addition for our house.

Immature: I want to put a secret passage in our new addition - like a bookcase that spins around to reveal some kind of secret lair. Oh my gosh, that'd be so cool - and immature. However, I don't think there's enough room for our new master bath AND a secret lair (whoa - just using the words "master bath" make this entire statement way too mature). Secret lair it is!*

Mature: I go grocery shopping. I clip coupons. I make grocery lists.

Immature: When I get home, I must bring everything into the house in one trip - including a toddler - it's like a secret competition I have with myself (and I LOVE secret competitions!). It's gotten a lot more difficult these days, but I'd say I can do it about 90% of the time. Take that, maturity!

Mature: Getting around to posting this blog...finally.

Immature: You know when you've typed a word over and over again (like mature or immature) how it starts to look funny and loses it's meaning? Well, that just happened to me. How immature of me.

*I just asked Scott, "how do you spell 'lair'?" and he was like, "l-a-y-e-r." And I was like, "no, like a 'secret lair', like batman has...or like a 'foxes lair.'" And he was like, "yeah, 'l-a-y-e-r' like it's a secret layer of the earth." I totally did not think that was right and so I looked it up online, and I was right. Then Scott said I'm not allowed to ask him anymore questions. It's tough being right. But I was. Just thought everyone should know.