Do not say they drive you mad.

If, wearied, you wish the summer holidays to end and peace to reign again at home,

I ask you to count.

Count the weeks of holiday from now till that 18th year, when examinations stop – and life begins.

Count the Christmas tumble weeks, count the raining Easter weeks, count the weeks of trips away and count the weeks of summer, inched and etched away by politicians as they will be.

Count off, mark gone, the weeks of summer camps and days of housework, uniform shopping and revision that will steal their time.

Erase the days with friends and weekends when dancing shows, sports events, a school fete and trip abroad will steal them.

Count, count, count until you know the number of weeks left to you, school weeks blotted out, where your child will be yours, just yours.

There are less than you think.

You will not value them unless you count them.

They will slip by in Facebook hours and rushing through the countless jobs. The in a minute’s and yes we will’s and well I’d like to moments will be said, not done.

And then, like me, you’ll find a house of baby ducks are gawky and grown and flying the nest.

***

The summer holiday is going too fast. I have 26 weeks, maybe less, left where Fran will be a child in this house, before she goes, before she’s grown.

I was here all the time and so was she and I still -almost- missed her.

I was still nearly too busy.

I was still distracted, even though she was right beneath my nose.

I have done better recently.

We do better even though the school weeks are lost to me now.

***

Do not let them drive you mad.

Do not wish for the end of summer.

Stop. Look. Listen.

***

If you are lucky, you will never have to truly miss your child. You will never truly know how it feels for them to be gone.

But even so. Stop.

Look.

Listen.

They are gone so fast.

***

In less than the time since Freddie was born, which is still yesterday, still a hole blown in my heart, my first chick will fly the nest, joyfully, blessed by us, with hopes and dreams and a life.

It’s such a tiny, tiny time since she was born.

A whole life time – and I was still almost – almost – too busy.

I still almost missed it.

Too tired. Too stressed. Too busy. Too selfish.

A whole blog of ten years, days and days of time with little girls and little boys and still – still – it flew by.

***

Take it from someone taking the slower route a 6th time.

Let them drive you mad.

Curse the first day of term and ward it off with evil eye.

Do not let them drive you mad.

Do not ask how much longer.

Go slow.