When You Were (Are) Very Young

Sometimes a certain book's title caught your attention and imagination more than its contents. That's how I feel about A A Milne's collection of poems, 'When We Were Very Young'. I read it when I was not so very young, at a period of time when, by circumstances, I frequented the Children's Library more often than the Adult's. I am not saying I don't care for the poems inside. Being A A Milne, his poems are readable and rather charming. Still, I always think of the title, and how it fits the situation of my own sons (and many others as well, of course). At another period of life, I might not have noticed this book at all.
What is 'very young'? I wonder if Mr Milne meant that time of your life when you are quite small, barely at your parents' waists or shorter, and when your imagination is seldom inhibited by facts and probabilities. What you are thinking of, becomes the source of amusement or frustration (and sometimes both together) to the adults around you as it manifests itself into actions and words. I would like to think my sons are at this age, and still some way to go.
I sometimes have it in my mind to write a simple note to the boys, starting with...

"My dear sons, when you were very young, your mummy went on (a) no pay leave (that seems to have no end) and we lived in Scotland for awhile - when Ethan was between two and four and Jethro was born there and till he was 16 months.
We had fun there, Ethan, you and I, especially at the beginning. Remember (you probably don't) we played peek-a-boo with the blankets on the bed after reading Preston Pig and Wolf's 'Boo!'? You liked marching and playing drum a lot and the nursery rhyme we sang most often was 'Oh The Grand Old Duke of York' when we would march up and down the room, pretending to beat the drums. And Jethro, you did enjoy it there too, although I was a 'changed' mum by the time you were born...
I know that you kids like it best when you have parents who would act silly with you and I tried to do so, for sometime. But it got too stressful and lonely, this world of entertainment and immersing in playgrounds, toys, nursery rhymes, children's books, kids' meals. Then your brother was born, and I just had to be me again, just to relief the stress. Or perhaps to make myself more stressed. Still, I learned that I am not the only one. That Mothers all over the world have this problem of wanting to be 'good' mothers but not being able to suppress their own desires, feelings and inclinations. So it's okay to give in to what is your human nature sometimes, because you are only human. Only thing I still keep to is the tiresome job of providing quite nutritious meals for you whenever I cook. Though there are times when I nearly want to follow the example of a certain mother I knew once, when a sausage roll shall suffice for lunch.
So I stopped being the mother who doesn't scold, who doesn't hit, who will always entertain her children when they are bored. And I have stopped and never turned back. I do regret this. But perhaps what I need is to find a way to meet half-way, because I can't change what I am, but certain boring, harsh old ways I should try to change for a happier relationship with you all.
I believe one day I will miss you as babies and little boys; the carefree, blue skies you have shown me. One day, when I see you having problems of your own, wondering about which way to go next, worrying over the realities of your dreams - I think, I must really treasure this short precious period of your lives more, when you are so very young.
But I don't think I can stop chiding you and saying 'No!' instead of 'Why don't you do this instead?' most of the time. Cheeky tongue out here."