"Why can't you fly now, mother?" "Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way." "Why do they forget the way?" "Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly."

I've been thinking a lot about growing up lately.

I turn 24 this year, exactly four months from today, actually. 24 is a pretty grown up age. My mom was 24 when she got married. A friend of mine had two kids before she was 24. People have careers at 24. Keats was in his last year of life at 24. Mozart wrote symphonies before he was 24.

This week is the five-year anniversary of my graduation from high school. High school doesn't feel like it was the long ago. Middle school doesn't feel like it was that long ago. I remember the apartment I lived in when I was three years old. I remember the boy I had a crush on in second grade. I remember when my little sister and I used to lie awake in bed and giggle and make up silly stories and games. I remember when my family only had four kids. I remember when I felt so big and grown up because I was 12. And now I'm almost twice that age, and suddenly I don't feel so very grown up anymore.

I never could understand Peter Pan when I was younger. Why wouldn't you want to grow up? Grown ups are the ones who can do things! And why would you want a mother? Moms just nag you and make you make your bed and clean up your room and they never let you do what you want. I think I understand Peter Pan a little better now, on both points. Sometimes I wish I could go back. Not so that I could live my life over again, although I've done some pretty stupid things in my time that I'd like to take back; no, I think I'd like to be five again just so I can really appreciate it this time. It's good to be five. Everyone thinks you're cute, you're old enough to tie your own shoes and feed yourself, but no one expects you to do much more than that. Five-year-olds never feel insignificant, because everything is about them. When you're five, your biggest worry is that Christmas takes so long to get here, because your mom takes care of everything, all those things like bills and insurance and food and the mean kid at kindergarten.

You know, I think Peter Pan was on to something.