What Part of Your Life Is the Best Being a Kid or An Adult and Why?

For me(which I am sure alot you probably already figured out) was being a teenager. I mean life was so much more simpler and fun. Sure you always had a couple jerks and school you had to deal with but in general being a teenager was a blast.

You didn’t have to deal with that much responsibility. Life was exciting and new. Things were more black and white. You didn’t have to worry about what eat or did. And it seemed like you could do or be anything you want but as you get older you see you destination come( I kinda stoled that line for a Yes song.).

Anyway what about y’all.

Being an adult is so much better.

I don’t know how many times each week my girl and I are trying to make a decision and I say, “We can do anything we want. We’re grown-ups.”

Also, when you can truthfully throw out the phrase “We’re all adults here,” you know you’re about to hear something good.

And you don’t have to eat anything you don’t want to.

The only drawback I can see thus far is that I’m getting a little chubby around the middle. Pretty soon I’ll have to stop eating things I do want to.

I prefer adulthood. More control over my life, more money, more responsibility (something I’ve grown to like!).

Of course, I wouldn’t mind spending a weekend being 17 again!

I am a teenager, and I don’t find it as good as being a kid. Being a kid is even more simple and fun. I might enjoy adulthood.

I miss the body I had as a teenager (although I wasn’t that fond of it at the time). I also miss occasionally having long stretches of unstructured time. Beyond that, being a grownup is much better.

Without a doubt, I enjoy being an adult more than being a kid.

If I’m too busy to make dinner, I don’t have to. If I want to put a little Bailey’s in my coffee for when I do the crossword, I do. If I want to stay up until 3 o’clock in the morning watching some cheesy movie, no problem. If I want to have sex, I have it, and if I get pregnant…cool!

My husband and I frequently comment to each other that we can’t believe this is all ours - each other, a really cool house, a great dog, jobs that give us the freedom of both money and time. Kids will change a lot of this, but by then, I think we’ll be more than ready.

I wouldn’t give up a second of my adulthood for another glimpse at childhood.

I’ll chime in with the true cop-out response. I get to live my childhood over with my kids. (Sorry…but it’s true)

I decided a long time ago that there were certain things about being a kid that I missed sorely. Actually having kids of my own has been a great excuse to be goofy. And I get to enjoy all the cool discovering stuff a second time around through their eyes.

Other than that…nah. I wouldn’t go back. One of my best buddies as a kid was my gramma and since she’s not here anymore…well, it just wouldn’t be the same.

I’ll agree with the majority here – being an adult is definitely better. Oh sure, I occasionally miss the carefree days of youth, but it’s usually while contemplating mortgages and student loan payments.

I sometimes visit high school classrooms and talk to the students as part of my job. My feeling when I leave is always “I would not be that age again for all the money in the world.” All that angst – SHUDDER!!

Seeing as I’m not yet an adult, I’ll strike one up for the kids (more specifically, teens). I’m sure a ton of adults live lives as relaxed (or more so) as mine, but it seems I am a lot more free.
Adults are more prone to injury during sports, often have a more restrictive diet, have to pay bills (car, mortgage, electric, water), rarely get the summer off, work for more hours each day, often have to make their own meals, and (if they are parents) have to care for a child.
I can’t drink, as well as do other stuff that wouldn’t be so bad, but I can live with it.

As an adult, I don’t get beat up nearly as much.

Being a kid.
Kids don’t have all of these experience related opinions, fears, anxieties, misconceptions, facts, and emotional hardening that adults get.

Kids see magic in the world until they get around 17 or 18. Mostly when they are 7 through 12. They can look at water in a ditch and not see dirty runoff, snakes, bugs, mud, stink, potential pollution and stuff, but see a great river to float toy boats on, build dirt dams across, new land to explore, hiding places for playing cowboys and Indians, neat places to find cool frogs, minnows and colorful clay. A whittle stick in the shape of a crude boat, a twig for a mast and an impaled leaf for a sail becomes a ship of the line, exploring enemy territory, or a 4 master, battling high seas and running aground on some deserted island.

A kid looks at the skies and sees pretty colors, puffy clouds and regardless of education, might wonder if clouds are soft like that pillow stuffing Mom buys to put in cushions. Dragonflies are all glittery, colorful, fun and friendly, natures insect helicopters who will land on one’s finger and study one and to a kid, it could be an alien trying to communicate, a secret friend, an intelligent insect, a play sign from some mystic being during an adventure game where they are stalking dragons and evil doers.

A kid trusts explicitly in Mom and dad to keep anything nasty away, to provide him with all things good, like food, clothing, shelter and protection and usually figures that they can handle anything which comes up.

He sees others in simple terms of friend or not friend, he doesn’t care how a movie was made, just that it was fantastic and he wishes he could go to such a place and do such things. A kid sees the world with bright eyes, like a big city is all color and wonder and excitement with strange and curious people, sometimes it’s deliciously scary, sometimes not. He doesn’t worry about the crime, pollution, road rage, AIDS, big corporate influence, political wards, police corruption or racism.

A mall is a magical castle of wonder, color, sound and smell that he would love to live in or be able to have all to himself, with selected friends, of course. A pencil becomes a space ship or a cannon, a patch of dirt and some toys becomes a construction site, battle ground, alien land, or a last stand against primitive hostiles. A tree becomes a Most Favored Place to climb and sit among the branches, dreaming, or a crudely erected tree fort, which becomes a space ship, an aircraft, a crows nest, a lonely outpost, or a fortress.

Things are big and wonderful. The mind is open and curious, absorbing information like a sponge. What adults say is always right because he hasn’t learned that they lie a lot yet. A kid isn’t yet all that interested in sex, but knows of the opposite sex as somewhat interesting.

When a kid does start feeling the urges of sex, his feelings and emotions are pure, unadulterated and strong, as yet unblemished by games, lies, hurts and confusing laws or roles.

A kid is young so his body is full of energy, heals quickly, seems never to tire, looks good, feels good, and he/she can eat anything which will not eat him/her first and not put on an ounce of fat. Simple things give a kid pleasure like sweet wax lips, flavor straws, bubble gum, glittery wrapping paper, smooth stones, bright pieces of worn glass, bits of colored cellophane, and cheap water paints.

A kid can enjoy stomping barefoot in sticky mud, revel in it squishing up between the toes, enjoy the sensation on the soles of the feet and not worry about dirt, germs, time, disease or what others might think. An ice cold sweet soda dredged up from a bucket of ice and enjoyed on a hot summer day under a shady tree his heaven. He won’t think about stocks, bills, drugs, business politics, cheating, smoking, personal interactions, styles or food prices, but will enjoy every molecule of taste in his cold root beer while smelling the sun warmed grass, the fragrance of the tree he leans against, the distant drone of an aircraft and the music of the birds while admiring butterflies bouncing from colorful flower to colorful flower.

A kid will have strong teeth and bones, no ulcers, tumors, smokers cough, cataracts, poor joints, piles, hemorrhoids, arthritic fingers, hammer toes, bunions, corns or nervous ticks. He will find no pleasure in ‘All is quiet on the Western Front’ but will read and reread his favorite comic books. He will know of good and bad, but not of the vast gray area in-between.

A child is innocent, until such time as he/she becomes aware that they are responsible for their own actions, and then begins the long, painful climb into confusing, complicated, ever-working, ever struggling, ever increasing awareness into adulthood.

He/she will retain much of the innocence through most of his/her 20s, when he/she figures that the world is theirs, they make changes, their names will go up in lights and down in print, and they have confidence, determination, energy, and resiliency along with a firm belief that they are immortal. They wear shining armor.

By the late 20s, battle scars start to slow them down. By their 30s, their glands no longer run their lives and a new, unwelcome maturity sets in. They have been battered beaten, defeated, some dreams and illusions shattered, have had some triumphs, some of which came at great cost, and have emerged, armor dented and tarnished, wiser, perhaps happier, but with much of the innocence and wonder gone forever and by then they are considering their own eventual mortality.

They see their parents in a new light, have absorbed the worries of the world, know that only they can protect themselves, possibly faced with the staggering implications of being a parent, sizing up people no longer as friend or not friend, but various levels of friend, various levels of foe and enemy.

When they look at the sky, they see air pollution, global warming, changing weather, too many aircraft, and when they look in a ditch, they see muck, disease, snakes, broken glass, weeds, thorny vines, bugs and industrial waste.

So it is at childhood’s end.

sniff That was beautiful Jetassisted.

I vote for being a kid, too. I’m 21 and am feeling very resentful about being forced to “grow up” Childhood is so innocent and simple and joyful. What I’ve tasted of adulthood has just been complex and painful. :frowning:

I wanna be a kid again, but with what I know as an adult. Not to play the stock market or anything, but I would remember the word “Apple”.

Mostly, it seems I’ve been stressed all my life. If I could relive childhood knowing that my stresses then were nothing compared to what adults go through, I would enjoy it even more. And with my stock portfolio, maybe my second adulthood would be more relaxed too. :D:D


That was beautiful and oh so true. How I dread getting into my 40s.

Jetassisted…nicely written. A very true vision of childhood too, for the most part. But we all know that for some kids childhood can be terrifying, humiliating and heart-breaking.
Very much the same as it is for some adults.

And I will agree with you too that as I get older–I’m 32 and it is old, in the respect that it is the oldest I have ever been–all the accumulation of knowledge and experience can make the world seem rather dark and hopeless.
And for a long time it seemed very much that way for me. I cried when I turned 25 because I felt that my ‘youth’ was over. Three kids, mortgage, husband…and none of the fanciful dreams of my childhood had magically come true.
blah, blah, blah…I know you don’t really care about all this and it better have a point, right?

Hopefully, it does. My mother made a statement to me when I started back to college after eight years of raising kids and being a housemom. It was one of those things mothers say–you know they don’t mean to be hurtful/condescending/humbling, but it sure feels like a low blow.
She said, “I can’t believe you’re doing all this NOW. You’re nearly ten years late…but you have always been the model of the ‘late bloomer.’”
She said it because she was proud of me for returning to school. It kind of hurt to hear it. I mean, I was old. And now I couldn’t even be old right? But after I considered it for a while I decided that I was either going to feel perpetually crappy for doing the natural aging that I have no control over…or I was going to forget about it. Feel the age I wanted to, needed to and be much happier. Yes, I hate the lousy responsibilities of being a grown up. Yes, I hate the fact that things in my world are painful and seem to have no answer.
But so far, approaching it all with the hopelessness and cynicism of my adult experience has yielded no answers. I’ve decided to try to join my kids in the vision of doing what I’m allowed to within the span of a day to make, if not my world, than someone else’s world a little better. They seem to be having a ball.
Now…I know how idiotically idealistic that all sounds. And I apologize for being all mushy. Eeek. I hate that kind of stuff.

Well, I’m in my middle ages, which means I was pushed fighting and clawing into the 40s by nature. The body suddenly decided to let me know it’s getting ‘mature’ by layering on fat faster than I can take it off, developing a few aches and pains, making it a bit harder to get out of bed and I take Tagamet before wolfing down a pizza.

I do recall at 12 being able to devour a 12 inch sub, all the way, in one sitting (it takes two now), along with a huge shake and bag of chips and not gaining an ounce of fat.

There is a bliss in being a kid though, because ones mind is not yet geared to recognize the traps, tricks, and nastiness in the world. I recall being more pleased with a Superman comic book than reading ‘A Tale of Two Cities’. When my folks were worried about the cost of heating gas in the winter, I was out reveling in the cold, making little camp fires, getting fascinated by the ice which formed in bird baths, getting my friends together and playing like we were GIs fighting the Nazis in WW2 in the winter, and staggering home to the warmth, great smells of Mom’s cooking and a mug of hot chocolate - preferably with more marshmallows in it than my brother got.

Funny how the cold seems to affect me more these days and I don’t have that big of an urge to go outside, build a fire in the back yard – especially now that I can without trying not to get caught – and if I call my friends over to play soldier, they might get a bit concerned over my mental state, – except for Bob. He’d probably get bundled up and run right over, wearing that WW2 surplus army helmet he bought years ago.

Then, I’d have to go and dig out mine. :slight_smile:

Being an adult is the best, because you have all the benefits of being older, and if you put your mind to it, you can have most of the benefits of being a kid, too. Just because we have mortgages, bills, jobs, kids, etc. doesn’t mean we have to stop playing and having fun. We get this idea that it isn’t dignified to be seen having fun as an adult, or that people are laughing at us; IMHO, if people are looking at me when I’m doing something fun and goofy, it’s because they’re jealous and wish they were having fun, too. I’ll come over and play Soldier with you in the back yard, Jetassisted. Can we build a snow fort, too?

Anytime you want to go out and build a fire in the backyard or play soldier–give me a call. It sounds like great fun. An

You can even bring Bob, if you like. :wink:

Hello? These old fingers just can’t type like they used to…

I meant to say that if you and featherlou decided to outside to give me a call too. Sorry to omit you, featherlou…I pushed submit.

Just like being a teenager…premature submission.

For me… College years.

IF, and yes, this is a big factor to it being very fun, tuition, room & board’s paid for, the work you do is to make spending money.

You get to keep learning, engaging in fascinating debates until ungodly hours of the AM over trival stuff that only get discussed on campuses.

You’re enough of an adult to be able to take responsibility for your own actions, yet your still sheltered in academia and the ivory towers get some pretty wistful looks from my current perspective. :wink: