The nurse’s office in the school that my daughters attend called last week. My almost 8-year-old had a minor incident on the playground. During the course of the conversation, I was asked if I was my daughter’s grandmother. I stated I was her mother. At first I thought that it was because I had a bit of a croaky voice that day. Later on, I realized that they were probably looking at the records and saw my birthday. It didn’t upset me. It actually made me laugh because the truth is, I am an older mom.
Most of the children of women my age are either in college or have already moved into careers or family life. I realize that I am anywhere from 10 to 25 years older that most of the mothers I meet. I don’t hide my age, but I don’t offer it either. It doesn’t bother me, but it seems to be alarming to some. Some have stated that they consider it to be irresponsible. The advantages are that I am calmer and more financially stable than I was 20 years ago. My years of teaching has aided in helping my children with school and other problems. Academically I want them to do well, but I also want them to be emotionally happy.
I did everything late in life. I established my career late, met my husband late, got married later than most (we were constantly asked if it was our first marriage), waited 3 years, and then had children. I am not one of those women who waited because I wanted to do other things. I didn’t think about my biological clock. Due to good genetics, I conceived easily and didn’t need fertility treatments (another question I get asked often). My drum always had a different beat. Sometimes it even went haywire; sometimes it didn’t make a sound. I just let life happen.
I know that I will not live long enough to experience most of my daughters’ lives. My hope is to see them receive an education, and settle into a happy life. I purposely had 2 children so that they would have each other. The time I spend with them is precious. I hope the experiences my husband and I create with them makes them look back and remember all we did together. Maybe I will be lucky and live into my 90′s like both my grandmothers. These are the thoughts I had on Mother’s Day when cards, gifts, and breakfast were presented to me by two little girls who only see me as Mom.
