I had a major blog crush on this week’s Blog Friend Feature from the first time I went to her blog. From her unique title and tagline to her amazing writing, I knew she would be a favorite. Wow, can she WRITE! There are bloggers and then there are those who are actual writers- and she’s a writer. Real and funny, too.
You can imagine the round-off back-handsprings I turned when Shell asked me to guest post. Actually, I also had to imagine it too because last time I did a cartwheel to show off to my 5 year-old daughter I practically sprained my wrist.
Because I’m old. I’m old, and frankly, having little kids does not keep me young. It ages me more rapidly.
I did not intend to be an older mom. It just happened.
We all set a timeline for ourselves when we’re young, don’t we? We’ll meet Mr. Right at a certain age, we’ll get engaged, get married and have babies. In my case, that was all supposed to be accomplished before age 30.
And when I reached that magical age, I was single. And when I say single, I mean I hadn’t had a date in a couple years. I was like a camel in the Sahara, trudging along, looking for an oasis but seeing only miles and miles of sand.
I’m not quite sure what that means. Other than I had absolutely no prospects. To the point where my mother told me she’d given up on having grandkids. Thanks for the support, Mom! Apparently my unused eggs were rotting into a sulphuric mess in my ovaries while I galavanted around the country pursuing my career.
Then I met David. We got married right before my 33rd birthday. My first child was born when I was almost 35 and he was 38. We had our second less than two years later.
I then spent my 40th birthday pregnant with our third. When the baby was a few months old, I sat with him at our neighborhood pool and chatted with my (younger) friend. To whom I said, “When Xander is my age? I will be 80!!”
Eighty. The thought is truly bizarre.
In that way, I envy my younger friends who have kids the same ages as mine. Not that anything is guaranteed, but they will likely have the chance to see more of their kids’ lives. They might even be at their grandkids’ weddings or welcome a great-grandchild.
I see young, active grandparents and know that if our kids wait as long as we did to start a family? We probably won’t be able to enjoy the grandkids as much as we’d want.
Could we watch them at night so their parents could get a much-needed break? Could we take them for the weekend? Or will it be just too much for us by then?
I have done two marathons and two half-marathons and still get up at 5:30 a.m. to run with my friends. It’s not because I’m insane. It’s because I owe it to my kids to be as healthy and active as possible for as long as I can.
It’s not THEIR fault they got older parents.
But they also got parents who have LIVED. I’ve been on my own since I was 21. I’ve had a successful career as a journalist. I’ve moved – by myself – six times to different parts of the country. I’ve lived in New York City, something we should all do once. Been to Europe three times.
I’ve had other relationships. I’ve lost a parent.
So what I might lack in energy I make up for in experience.
Thankfully, love has no age limits.
Also? I promise not to tell my kids they’d better give me grandchildren before I’m dead. I mean, no pressure, guys!