Just a few of the many reasons why I’m a moron for being a middle aged mom and not getting knocked up at 20.
No one warned me. Not one single person pulled me aside to let me know this simple fact. One middle aged mom should have had the guts to tell me the truth. All that time you spent obsessing about yourself in your 20’s? All that time and energy you wasted dating stupid guys and staying out too late? That was supposed to be used for something important. All that energy and time was when nature intended for you to get knocked up.
Why else do you think you had shiny hair and a tiny waist? That was all for show. To make you attractive enough to get some action. Seal the deal. Launch the rocket. Put a bun in your oven. (You see where I’m headed here.)
A few reasons why this middle aged mom shoulda started way earlier.
Numbers Don’t Lie.
I suck at math and so I didn’t add up the numbers. If I’d done some simple arithmetic I would have figured out that when you wait to start a family in your late thirties that means you’ll have a teen entering high school in your fifties. If you’re 36 when they’re in kindergarten, the math starts to get scary. You’ll be awash in grey hair by the time high school starts. Why didn’t I stop to do some basic age forecasting?
Here are several reasons why I so should have gotten knocked up and forgone this whole middle aged mom drama.
More Grandparents To Choose From.
If I’d decided to be a parent in my twenties when God intended, maybe a few more Grandparents would still be around to spoil my daughter and stuff her full of sugary treats. There is no one to send her off to visit during the summer. No Papa to spoil her or teach her to drink Bud Light when the time comes. No one to traumatize her with educational visits to a local slaughter house. (Yes, grandparents can love and/or scar you for life.) But my daughter’s missing out on all that.
More Mental Energy For Important Parenting Decisions.
Know all that stupid stuff you worried about when you were 23? All those non decision decisions? Buy the new Bobby Brown CD or go with Paula Abdul? Lime or Strawberry Jell-O shot? Your brain was just searching for things to do, because your mind wasn’t be utilized the way nature intended. Your brain was supposed to be fixated on important childcare decisions, not out dancing all night in uncomfortable but cute boots.
If I wasn’t a middle aged mom, maybe I’d be still be room mom. Maybe I wouldn’t have volunteer burn out. Maybe I’d be that woman who heads up every single committee at school instead of the one who shows up late and leaves early.
My daughter drew me a picture for Mother’s Day. What was my favorite activity listed on the picture she drew of me? Napping. Yes, napping. Some mothers run marathons or save sea turtles. I nap. The much younger me would be setting a good example by getting up early and running several miles before dawn. The younger me probably wouldn’t sit down for a few minutes and end up napping for an hour instead.
There are a few good things I suppose to being a middle aged mom. After half a century on this planet, I suppose I’m more patient than my younger self. I might even be a little more able to survive some parenting disasters without losing my sh#$.
Oh well. Since I didn’t start this whole parenting thing on schedule and get knocked up at 20, my daughter is now stuck with a slightly burned out, midlife mom with creaky knees seeing her off to high school.
Now excuse me while I go take a nap!