Growing Pains

It is another yarn-filled Monday morning void of any happy feelings except the hopeful countdown to Friday. Why do we count down to Friday? When we are born, we are without cognition of what the world has to offer us. We are wrapped in the loving sheath of protective arms that loved ones provide and our only instruction is crying…let the adults figure out what it means. Then we become inquisitive toddlers who crawl into all sorts of nooks and crannies and put into our mouths all sorts of cuisine, mostly dirty items that give the adults a fright, and our instruction now comes from a set of coo’s, smiley coo means I agree and angry coo means I’m a ticking time bomb of tears.

Without explaining to you the growth cycle of a child like you are ill-informed, let me just get to my point. For a small portion of our lives we love being picked up and taken care of but the moment we realize that we can stand, run and express clearly our desires we rush towards independence with the speed of a freight train. We wriggle out of the warm embrace of loved ones, we spit out our food and eventually we turn into hormonal teens chasing the cool, praying for larger breasts and fewer pimples, banging doors and wishing that the freedom of varsity could come tomorrow. We have discovered our voice, or so we think we have, and spend a lot of our time shouting to get our point across because nobody can pretend to know us better than we know ourselves, our parents were born age 45 anyways so what do they know about the trials and tribulations of growing pains? Why hasn't Peter called me back?

After what seems like an 18 year long epic fight scene from the movie 300, we gain freedom, get into varsity, finish varsity and live pocket money free as an employee at some company. At first it’s fun, we pay tax, buy cars, party up a storm and tweet pictures of the expensive bottles of alcohol we can now afford. We love being in our own place away from the prying eyes of our guardians and some of us even get that tattoo that would have gotten you thrown out your mother’s house. It is great to be a grown up! Life, of course, has a way of putting things into perspective and after a while you notice that you spend more hours working, your face looks older than your years, your life, including the parties, becomes a mundane routine, your body feels like a ton of bricks every Monday morning and you don’t often agree with the bills paid for on your behalf but because you came into the scene as a “balla” you swipe, grin and bear it.

You are now nostalgic and want to revert back to the good old days when everyday was new and filled with such vibrancy and possibility. You want to have a scheduled nap time, the responsibility of what you eat and wear must be transferred, after a long drive to and from the office you want to get home and have someone lift you and spin you around senselessly while they tell you that you are the smartest and most beautiful creation. You no longer want to worry about taxes, rent and gas. Life would be blissful if you wore part a party hat, swimming costume and wellingtons to work, it would make your colleagues jealous because your parents were the coolest to let you go out like that. Every day would be a Friday and no more would you partake in the countdown to the weekend.

All I’m really saying is that life is precious, a gift that only comes by once. Enjoy the moments of being cared for thoroughly so when it is your turn to be a caretaker you will look at your crying children, remember to give to them the same warmth and understanding your guardians gave you and figure it out…

Live laugh love