When I was very young growing up was about getting taller, filling a bra, being able to go to an R rated movie, getting a license to drive and getting into a nightclub with ‘legal' ID.

Somehow I never equated growing up with getting older. Now that I'm grown up and (much to my disgust) getting older, I also find myself becoming more reflective. This isn't such a bad thing as it gives one an opportunity to consider what has gone well and what could be changed to improve the future. I found a poem recently which gave me pause to reflect on being a ‘grown up' parent.

When my children were very young and I was busy, rushing around doing the mum things that you do, somehow there just never seemed to be enough time for everything. I can recall saying 'not now I have to do...” or '…when I've finished...” and yet I can't remember if I actually went back and joined in with the game or sat and drew pictures with the children after I had finished a task. I do know that whenever I bemoaned the fact that my children wouldn't hurry when I needed them to, or that I had a million and one things that needed doing, I would hear all the clichés from older (grown up) relatives about how fast children grow up. 'Slow down, it will pass quicker than you know, you don't want to miss out now, you can't get those years back, and they will grow up and leave home before you know it.”

Well those years did pass in a blur and my children have grown up and left home. I now find myself at times envying my colleagues who have been blessed with grandchildren. If I had grandchildren now would I still be in such a hurry, too busy working or would I take the advice given below to slow down and enjoy the time? Let's hope so! Here's that fabulous poem I mentioned – hope you like it too.

POEM
To My Grown-Up Son
By Alice E. Chase

My hands were busy through the day, I didn't have much time to play the little games you asked me to; I didn't have much time for you.

I'd wash your clothes; I'd sew and cook, but when you'd bring your picture book and ask me, please, to share your fun, I'd say, 'A little later, hon.”

I'd tuck you in all safe at night, and hear your prayers, turn out the light, and then tiptoe softly to the door, I wish I'd stayed a minute more.

For life is short, and years rush past, A little boy grows up so fast, No longer is he at your side, his precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away, there are no children's games to play, no goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear, that all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands once busy now lie still, the days are long and hard to fill; I wish I could go back and do, the little things you asked me to.

Next week – Before I was a Dad.