Do your parents know you’re having sex?

Slap me in the face, I’m old. And I mean O-L-D, old. I’m not sure when or how this happened, I swear I was out clubbing yester…20 years ago. Surfing through other blogs, looking for moms in a similar situation to me (geriatric mom of a two year old anyone?) I’m finding children having children. Seriously. I start reading the blogs, think, hey that sounds sort of familiar, we’ve had the same experiences, but wow she’s got a lot of energy, and then I find the family photos.

That’s when it happens, I search and search, wondering why they keep posting pics of the nanny with their kids. I think to myself, ‘ya, you really like the babysitter, but why’s she hugging your husband?’ Then the other shoe drops. She’s not going to be available to look after V on Saturday because she’s the freaking mommy.

Well hell. No wonder they’re so perky and happy and have so much on the go.  No wonder their houses are in order and they go to playgroup and make dinner and fold their laundry. They probably even know where they left their car keys/glasses/mail and their yoga pants look good on them. And they don’t have to spend the hours tracking down those errant pluck-proof hairs. You know the ones that seemingly spring up in the middle of your chin over night. The ones you find in the middle of a meeting and have to remove from your face immediately, but of course you can’t because, hello, meeting = other people, but then you spend so much time obsessing about it you’re not paying attention and you somehow get voluntold for all the buttwiping jobs available. Oh, of course you don’t, come back and talk to me in 10 years.  Back fat isn’t even on their radar yet and I’m insanely jealous of all of them.

I mean, I knew this happened, believe it or not I was having sex at that age too,  I just didn’t know at the time that it wouldn’t be getting me anywhere. I worked with a guy who had 5 kids by the time he was 30. One of my BFFs online is 30 with 5 kids.  I only had those holy shit moments when they were thirty though, and for my co-worker I was thirty too, so it wasn’t crazy young to me, it was just crazy to have that many kids *g*. And in the other case I’ve not been perusing her family album so ignorance was bliss while it lasted.

I can barely believe that I’m responsible enough now to be guiding V as she grows up. (Seriously, who approved that?) What sort of train wreck would I have been 20 years ago? How would we have coped with trying to establish ourselves, going to school, finding our careers and raising a child? What sort of different, non-selfish choices would we have made and where would we be now? I don’t regret my choices for a minute (sure I wish our first IVF attempt in ’01 would have worked out, but that wasn’t a choice, and would still have been starting at 30 not 20), but man they make me feel old.

Now please excuse me, I’ve got to haul my walker out to the front porch and yell at the kids to get off my lawn before the next hot flash hits or I break a hip.