Growing up and Growing Old

Last week saw the 40th birthday of my 'little' brother. My 'baby' brother still has a couple of years to go before hitting this milestone, by which point I shall be 44 and apparently officially middle-aged. Other people getting older always seems to take us by surprise which is a bit strange as time marches on for all of us at the same pace. I am constantly amazed that the toddlers I baby-sat for in my 20s are passing driving tests, going to University and even having children of their own. I can recall the look of bemused acceptance on my parents' faces at my own 40th birthday celebrations as they took in the fact that their 'little rag doll' (apparently that's what I looked like as I emerged into the world) was now entering her 5th decade. At least I have had the decency to remain petite. Looking at a strapping 6 foot 5 rugby player and thinking 'that was my baby once' must be quite disconcerting. Both my parents do little things which point to the fact that they can't get over the reality that my siblings and I are no longer 4, 6 and 8. When crossing the road with my dad he will always put his hand out in a protective gesture just in case I am taken by a sudden urge to run in front of a passing car. My mum still reads menus out loud to us if we are eating out as a family even though we are all reasonably literate.
Age is an odd thing, and the older I get the more I subscribe to the school of thought that it is 'just a number'. I have lived independently for 20 years, had what most would consider a responsible job for 18 years, got married and had a child. However, I still can't shake off the feeling that I am somehow 'pretending', a bit like playing 'Mummies and Daddies'. You see, I really don't feel any different from when I was in my late teens. I keep wondering if other people of my age feel the same way and whether I'll wake up one day and finally feel that I have made it and become a bona fide, fully fledged grown up. I don't know, so for the time being I shall continue living as a teenager in an adult's skin.

Child Trust Funds

Bryn, born in 2005, was lucky enough to be a 'child of Gordon'. It's ok Geof, you can put your on-line paternity testing kit away. What I mean is, that at the time, the Chancellor, Gordon Brown was giving every new born child £250 to start a trust fund. Now I don't know about you but £250 just for being born seems like quite a good deal. I think we may be losing sight of who actually did the bulk of the hard work in the whole 'being born' process. Just saying.
Anyway, we have tried our best to put away a little each month towards this trust fund but at present he probably has about enough to spend 10 days doing 'Media Studies' at Solihull. (Please contact my legal department for any complaints about the Media Studies/Solihull comment. I know nothing about either of them. They just sounded right.)
At some stage Bryn became aware that there was a modest amount of money somewhere out there with his name on it and asked what it was for. "Well", I explained. "Traditionally it would be for your University expenses, but you may prefer to spend yours on psychotherapy".
If you think about it, putting money away for a person to access at the age of 18 might not be the wisest of moves. Who knows what he might choose to spend it on? We will have very little, if any control over it at that point. I mean what are we going to do if he spends it unwisely? Stop his pocket money? Put him on the naughty step? Send him to bed early? He could end up spending it on crack cocaine, loose women, a flash car or...even worse...an Ipswich Town season ticket!