4 july 2010, the third age

In the first few years, I simply couldn't get enough of my two boys (now 6 & nearly 9). There was so much time to play with and stimulate them, to read aloud, to lark around. I painted their walls with colourful characters, rocked them patiently to sleep, took them for long cycles on the back of my bike. There did come a time though, when, guiltily at the back of my mind, I longed for a little more "me" time, and space with my other half. Playing with the kids was no less pleasurable, but somehow the hours in the day were ever less, and the list of things I really wanted to do ever more. We began to yearn for them to happily play together, without waking us up of a sunday morning. That day has long since come, and they now play without me all the time, reading books, playing football in the garden and on wii, and with all manner of things I long ago gave up trying to be familiar with. My time though is as truncated as ever, and I'm more tired in the evenings than before. Now perhaps, a third age is starting, when I want to stay with them as intimately as ever, but they have their own plans, which will ultimately turn into their own lives. A long way down the tracks perhaps, but I think I see a dawn. If nothing ever changed though, there'd be no butterflies.