Any statement that begins: "When I was your age..." is not going to be listened to by somebody under your age.
At some point in life, every one of us, for better or for worse, sometimes kicking and screaming and being dragged by our heels, has to become an adult.
A child is someone who passes through your life,
And then disappears into an adult.
How strange that the young should always think the world is against them--when in fact that is the only time it is for them.
It's not an Empty Nest until they get their stuff out of the basement.
I've spent a fortune on my kid's education and a fortune on their teeth. The difference is, they use their teeth.
There are children born to be children, and others who must mark time till they can take their natural places as adults.
When I was a child I thought nap time was a punishment...now, as a grown up, it feels like a small vacation.
When a child grows up to a point where we can live with them, they decide to leave home.
You know children are growing up when they start asking questions that have answers. (John J. Plomp)
The Question
(Karla Kuskin)
People always say to me
"What do you think you'd like to be
When you grow up?"
And, I say, "Why,
I think I'd like to be the sky
Or a plane or train or mouse
Or maybe be a haunted house
Or something furry, rough and wild . . .
Or maybe I will stay a child."
Then and Now Sentiments Album
I made a Then and Now sentiments album showing my children as babies or very young on left side of a two-page spread and then a recent photo on the right. Since my children are fifteen, eighteen, and twenty, there was quite a difference in the pictures. I originally made the album to show potential customers. I liked it so much that I made one for each of the grandparents using pictures of the kids with the grandparents when they were very young and then recently photos. You could put the most recent picture in a photo sleeve and change it at the child gets older. (Bet)
A Touch of Love
You were six months old and full of fun
With a blink of an eye you were suddenly one.
There were so many things we were going to do,
But I turn my head and you were two.
At two you were still dependent on me,
But independence took over when you were three.
Your third birthday, another year I wished to ignore,
But as I lit the candles there weren't three but four.
Four was the year that you really strived,
Why, look at you now, you're already five.
Now you're ready for books and rules,
This is the year that you go to school.
The big day came you were anxious to go.
We walked to the bus, going oh so slow.
As the bus drove away and you waved good-bye
I felt a lump in my throat and a tear stung my eye.
For when the bus brings you home and you jump to the ground,
You'll be wearing your cap and graduation gown.
Time goes by so fast its hard to believe,
Why just yesterday you were home with me.
So I am holding these moments as hard as I can,
Because the next time I look I'll be seeing a man . . .
(the last two lines altered for a girl)
So I am holding these moments as close as I dare . . .
In a twinkling, a woman will be standing there."
Good Night Kiss
(Steve and Annie Chapman)
I count it as a privilege;
I count it cause for praise
to kiss my children good night
at the close of everyday.
For I know too soon they're gone
and walking out the door.
And I'll never have a child
to kiss good night any more.
It's strange how times have changed
from the present to the past.
When did they grow so quickly
the time has flown so fast.
For it seems like only yesterday
I helped him with his shirt,
or pat my baby on the back,
or kissed away a hurt.
Tell a story, read a book,
wipe a nose, or tie a shoe.
They don't ask me to rub their backs
the way they used to do.
Once it was a bother,
just a troublesome kind of chore.
But now I would give anything
to do it just once more.
Mommy, bounce me on your knee.
Daddy, flip me in the air.
Throw a rubber ball to me
and help me comb my hair.
Mommy, tickle my tummy . . .
Daddy, hold me high.
Let's go outside, for a while,
or make a kite to fly . . .
I count it as a privilege;
I count it cause for praise
To kiss my children good night
at the close of everyday.
For I know too soon they're gone
and walking out the door.
And I'll never have a child
to kiss Good Night anymore!
Kids Are Like Kites
Kids
are like
kites. You
spend a lifetime
trying to get them
off the ground. You
run with them until you
are both breathless ~ they
crash ~ You add a larger tail
~ they lift the rooftop. ~ You
pluck them out of the spout ~ you
patch and comfort, assure them that
someday they will fly! ~ Finally they
are airborne, but they need more string.
~ You keep letting the string out but
with each twist of the ball of twine
there is some sadness along with
the joy. The kite becomes more
distant and somehow you know
it will not be long before
your beautiful child will
snap the life line that
bound you together
and soar as he
was meant to
soar...
Free
and
alone.
Here in My Heart
(written by Betsy Hernandez, sung by Jodi Benson)
I don't want to kiss you good night
So I'll just keep on holding you tight
'Cause I know you'll change and you'll grow
You'll get bigger with each morning light
I know that the sky's full of stars
And dreams call your name from afar
I'm anxious to see all you're going to be
But I'm sure going to miss who you are
But I'll keep you right here in my heart
And I'll memorize each little part
'Cause one day you'll grow and I'll miss you so
But I'll keep you right here in my heart
Each tooth that you gain or you lose
And each time you'll need bigger shoes
Each step that you take will be further away
But to stop you is not what I choose.
These fingers that curl round my hand
Must do things that no others can
I know you're not mine,
But God's own design
And I want you to follow His plan
But I'll keep you right here in my heart
And I'll memorize each little part
'Cause one day you'll grow and I'll miss you so
But I'll keep you right here in my heart
To My Son
(Bruce B. Wilmer)
I look to you with hope and pride;
I see your future brightly.
Your deep concerns and aspirations
I will not take lightly.
The future is a mystery
That everyone explores.
I'll share your possibilities,
Embrace your distant shores.
I'll answer you when questions stir,
Encourage you, implore you.
But life's a challenge shaped by dreams,
A gift I can't live for you.
So live it well; respect it fully;
Play your spirit out.
Seek and then discover
All the best that life's about.
Remember that you're not alone--
My love is always there.
The challenge that defines your life
My heart will gladly share.
You're on a voyage into time,
A trip to somewhere new.
You may not always see me there,
But I'll be there with you.
Turn Around
Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two, turn around and you're four,
Turn around, you're a young girl going out of my door.
Turn around, turn around,
You're a young girl going out of my door.
Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Dirndls and petticoats, where have you gone?
Turn around and you're tiny, turn around and you're grown,
Turn around, you're a young wife with babes of your own.
Turn around, turn around,
Turn around, you're a young wife with babes of your own.
Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my darling, my own?
Turn around and you're two, turn around and you're four,
Turn around, you're a young boy going out of my door.
Turn around, turn around,
Turn around, you're a young boy going out of my door.
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star.
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like when you're older must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams.
(chorus)
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down.
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game.
Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town.
And they tell him take your time it won't be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down.
(repeat chorus)
So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.
(repeat chorus)
The Empty Nest Syndrome...
One of these days you'll shout: "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!"
And they will.
Or: "You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do . . . and don't slam the door!"
And they won't.
You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy . . . bumper stickers discarded . . . spread tucked in and smooth . . . toys displayed on the shelves.
Hangers in the closets. Animals caged. And you'll say out loud: "Now I want it to stay this way."
And it will.
You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing and you'll say: "Now there's a meal for company."
And you'll eat it alone.
You'll say: "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No pantomimes. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?"
And you'll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti.
No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms.
No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps.
No more clothespins under the sofa.
No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent.
No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathrooms.
No more iron-on patches; wet knotted shoestrings; tight boots, or rubber bands for ponytails.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year's Eve.
Washing only once a week.
Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11
o'clock at night.
Having your own roll of tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste.
No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark.
No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up," . . . and the silence echoing--"I did."
Someday
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different. The memo pad on my refrigerator door will read, "Afternoon at hairdresser," or, "Browse through art gallery," or, "Start golf lessons," instead of, "Pediatrician at 2:00," or, "Cub Pack Meeting."
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, the house will be free of graffiti. There will be no crayoned smiley faces on the walls, no names scrawled in furniture dust, no pictures fingered on steamy windows, and no initials etched in bars of soap.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get through a whole chapter of an engrossing book without being interrupted to sew a nose on a Teddy bear, stop a toddler from eating the dog food, or rescue the cat from the toy box.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I won't find brown apple cores under the beds, empty spindles on the toilet paper hanger, or fuzzy caterpillars in denim jeans. And I will be able to find a pencil in the desk drawer, a slice of leftover pie in the refrigerator, and the comics still in the center of the newspaper.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll breeze right past the gum ball machine in the supermarket without having to fumble for nickels; I'll stroll freely down each aisle without fear of inadvertently passing the candy or toy sections; and I'll choose cereal without considering what noise it makes, what prize it contains, or what color it comes in.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll prepare Quiche Loraine, or Scallops Amandine, or just plain liver and onions, and no one will say, "Yuck! I wish we were having hot dogs!" or, "Jimmy's lucky, his mom lets him eat chocolate bars for dinner." And we'll eat by candlelight, with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots over the flame to "make them taste better," or arguing about who gets to blow out the candle when we're done.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get ready for my bath without first having to remove a fleet of boats, two rubber alligators, and a soggy tennis ball from the tub. I'll luxuriate in hot, steamy water and billows of bubbles for a whole hour, and no fists will pound on the door, no small voices will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta go!"
YES, SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different. They'll leave our nest, and the house will be
Quiet . . .
and calm . . .
and empty . . .
and lonely . . .
And I won't like that at all!
And then I'll spend my time, not looking forward to SOMEDAY, but looking back at YESTERDAY.
They Grow Up So Fast
Woman: "You're really proud of your kids, aren't you?"
Man: "I sure am. They're amazing. It's so rewarding to watch them grow up. I can't believe they're four and two already! I can't wait to see them become strong and independent people out on their own!
Woman: "Yeah. I feel the same way about my kids."
Man: "That's nice. How old are yours?"
Woman: "Twenty-eight and thirty-two."