Some great thoughts here. One of my children has just turned 18, and the other is 13 going on 30. I am so grateful I have such a good relationship with both of them. I determined when they were born that proper time would be spent with them both (in the manner you describe - cinema trips, going on walks, partaking in their hobbies, etc). Most of all, I determined work would not result in cancelled holidays, absences on birthdays, or anything of that ilk. Drawing that line in the sand meant standing up to bosses at times, but hell would freeze over before I compromised on that front. No one ever lay on their death bed wishing they'd stayed late for that management meeting.

Even so, despite having lived up to this, I have bittersweet feelings about the way life is evolving. I have no regrets, and know I spent as much time as I could with my eldest. I know I will continue to do so, but I can't help feeling melancholy about when they were both younger. Those were very special years. I dread to think how I'd feel if I had gone down the workaholic parent rabbit holes some of my friends went down. They now have bitter regrets.

Anyway, sorry about the ramble, but this subject is on my mind a lot at present, and your article got me thinking again. :)