Advice for those growing closer

Advice from a Mum Who’s Realising What She’d Do Differently.

"Selfies on the sofa because we can"

When I had Amy, and again when I had Kyla, it never crossed my mind that one day, those perfect, beautiful babies I held so close—washed, changed, winded, nursed, swaddled and soothed—would no longer need me to be their full-time mummy.

As the years flew by and my role as "mum" began to evolve, it still didn’t cross my mind. 

Not really. Not until Amy received her first university acceptance letter at just 15 years old.

That’s when it hit me:

My eldest child was about to fly the nest.

They grow up and leave home. They really do leave you—and the life they’ve known since birth. They just… go. What’s worse is, they love it. Of course they do. I loved it too. Everyone moves out eventually. But why hadn’t I prepared for this moment?

Why didn’t I start cherishing our time more before my first chick decided to spread her wings?

No one warned me what this part would feel like. I didn’t see it coming until it was already happening. 

So now, I’m doing you a solid—a favour, a kindness—and letting you in on something.

"It's never too early to start preparing yourself."

I mean it. Start at birth—heck, start at conception—because however much time you think you have, it’s never enough. You’ll have plenty of time to prepare your child for the world. They’re resilient and adaptable. They’ll leap into the next chapter of life with joy and excitement.

But you don’t get that same luxury.

It’s scary. It’s confusing. It’s frustrating. Sometimes, it’s even a little depressing. So while you still have time, think about what it’s going to feel like when they’re gone. Sit with it. Get used to it. Prepare yourself.

"Time together we didn't do often enough."

"Don’t waste the time when they’re still at home."

Those nights you’re absolutely shattered, when all you want is a cuppa and some quiet? Try—if it's within your power—to include them in it. Bribe them if you have to. Order a pizza, throw on a movie, and just be together.

"Don’t let them twist your arm."

When your teen throws a fit because you’ve planned another family day out, don’t cave. I know, it can feel like they’re about to unleash the wrath of a thousand suns—but I promise, once they’re out and about (away from screens, friends, and their hobbit-hole bedrooms), they’ll soften.

Memories only get made when they show up.

"A day where Kyla-anne was down and I could tell she needed outdoors. So I demanded she gets her wellies on and shake a leg. She had the best time."

"Go tech-free sometimes."

And yes, I mean you, too. Everyone in the moment should be in the moment. Buy a phone jail if you must. Gather the devices and go tech-free for a while.

Meal times are perfect for this. Whether you’re around the dining table, sitting on the floor, or curled up with plates on your laps—disconnect. Talk. Ask about each other’s days. Get to know your kids.

"Buffet breakfast in the garden, yes I had my phone but only for a quick photo as it was such a lovely experience."

"Teach them. Everything is a teachable moment."

Paying the council tax? Explain how and why. Cooking dinner? Talk about food safety. Insurance, benefits, PAYE—everything you do can become a life skill lesson once they’re in their teens. It all matters.

"Take all the photos. Even selfies."

One day, we won’t be here for them—and before that, we may not even remember much. I have so few photos of myself with my girls when they were younger. I was always the one behind the camera.

Now I know: even a silly selfie together can become a precious memory.

So take the damn selfie. You’ll be glad you did.

"Let them take risks."

Whether they’re toddlers, out playing with friends, or teenagers testing their independence—let them take risks. Risky play supports cognitive and emotional development. It builds confidence and a sense of self-worth. They won’t learn from your mistakes—but they’ll definitely learn from their own.

"Turn my back for a minute and these two would be up to something. Id panic and try to stop them and their dad would usually tell me to shut up and leave them alone to play"

"Always be their biggest cheerleader."

Praise them. Encourage them. Tell the world about their achievements. Let them see that good choices bring real rewards.

And if they mess up? Don’t jump to “My child would never do that.” Be the parent who sits down, listens, and helps them figure out how to make it right.

"Bratislava, Slovakia 2019. My little princess bringing home a silver medal from the WUKF world karate championships."

This is all advice I wish I’d followed more closely as my girls were growing up.

I’m not telling anyone how to parent—because there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. We all get it wrong sometimes. We all carry flaws. We’re human.

I consider myself one of the luckiest mums alive. My girls are hardworking, generous, and kind. They’ve always made good choices. I hear constantly from others how wonderful they are. 

But I still sometimes wonder—what if?

What if the home they grew up in hadn’t been so toxic because of my relationships?

What if they’d had softer, gentler parents without mental health struggles?

I’ll never know. Hindsight is a beautiful, cruel thing.

Don’t wait for it to haunt you.

Make the most of now—before your chicks grow up and fly your nest.

What advice do you have for parents still going through it?

Got tips for parenting adult children?

Leave me a comment below or contact me on Facebook, Instagram, or by email.

I’d love to hear from you.