Perhaps your results may vary.

But in my house, the never-ending onrush of aging - both in us and the kids - in the past few years has brought with it some unexpected challenges.

No doubt some of you more seasoned parents may be scoffing, as if to say, “You expected something different?”

Generally speaking? No. Of course, my wife and I knew that the onset of the teenage years, coupled with our own deeper immersion into middle age, would seismically shift our home and our lifestyles.

Teenage driving, interpersonal relationship drama and post-graduation planning with the older kid, coupled simultaneously with the end of childhood and beginning of middle school in the other, and the need to navigate shifting tastes, schedule demands, and intellectual and emotional unrest from lost innocence and rapidly expiring naivete - you name it, we’re dealing with it.

And we expected to.

But as we begin 2026, there are a couple of associated elements we’re being forced to grapple with.

On one hand, those aforementioned new schedule demands and shifting tastes have left this dad increasingly wrestling with paroxysms of nostalgia. The internal debate only intensifies when presented with old photos and videos from the past, and particularly those depicting past outings or important moments at home.

For instance: When searching for old photos for a different reason, my phone shoved into my face some photos of much younger versions of my kids apparently rapturously enjoying some day trips to two of our region’s most iconic education-disguised-as-family-fun destinations, the Field Museum and Brookfield Zoo.

Those, in turn, triggered some conversations: First, with Google, to learn about some of the changes at those destinations in the intervening years; and then, with my wife, who was asked how it is we hadn’t been to either of those places in so long, when the kids loved it so much before?

While Google helpfully filled me in on new and coming exhibits at the Field, and on the expansion of Brookfield Zoo’s “Tropical Forests,” fka “Tropic World,” my wife only shrugged at my inquiry. “Maybe it’s just not important enough to make time for anymore?” she said, unhelpfully scoring a point for nostalgia.

At the same time, the photo app also sent me some other images of past family glory and glee: The days surrounding the arrival of our then-new-puppy, 13 years ago.

Any visitors to our home will quickly see that dog is still with us, and still very much alive and kicking.

The “kicking” part, however, has become increasingly more difficult for our old buddy, with the passage of time evidenced as clearly in his walk, appearance and mannerisms, as it is mirrored in my own visage.

And that has also triggered some difficult conversations, again with Google and my wife.

With the rapidly growing awareness of the pooch’s soon arriving appointment with eternity, Google helped me to answer some unsettling questions I had never pondered before about handling the aftermath of a pet’s sudden passing.

Now, mind you, dealing with pet mortality is nothing new for us. Every time we bring a pet home for the first time, we know that the giggles and squeals that begin the story of our journey together will almost assuredly end with tears on the other side of the Circle of Life.

To this point, however, none of our pets have died at home.

But as this one remains in otherwise good health, neither is he getting any younger. So, the knowledge of the increasing chances of a sudden departure has marched forward from the back of the mind, demanding the acquisition of information concerning - shall we say - proper procedures.

At the same time, the likelihood of our old friend’s passing, perhaps as soon as this year, has led to more than a fleeting, hypothetical conversation centered on the question that goes something like: “When will we get another one?” Or perhaps more to the point, “Should we?”

That conversation is only complicated by the realities of our current family situation.

While both kids have registered votes firmly in favor of quickly replacing the pup, the passage of each new day only decreases the weight of their ballots.

Consider: The older one, in particular, is already plotting an exit from the house in short order, perhaps even as soon as later this year.

And the younger one? Her time in the house could extend only about halfway, or less, through the lifespan of any new dog (or cat, I suppose, through gritted teeth.)

These realities would leave us with the sole care of an animal that would undoubtedly have emotionally imprinted on the children, saddling us with unknown concerns just as we enter the empty nest phase of our lives.

Of course, on the other hand, having an animal to connect us back to the good ol’ days could be just what we need in such a time of potentially difficult transition.

But those are just some of the difficult questions we’ll be answering in the coming months.

Hopefully, though, the old dog can stay with us through 2026, allowing us to put them off after we’ve made some more happy family memories, perhaps including a couple more days at the zoo.