An Old Mama

I don't always like being the oldest mom in either of my children's circle of friends.

I don't like trying to squeeze my ample behind into 1st grade chairs during an after school meeting, trying to look as graceful as the 27 year old mother sitting next to me.

I don't always like the feeling that I don't have anyone "my age" to talk to--these other moms are talking about yoga & pilates and trips and funny stories about in-laws. I'm thinking about grey hair and new wrinkles and how hard it is to resume a standing position after I've been sitting on the floor for awhile.

I don't like not having as much energy as I remember having; I feel that I am somehow shortchanging my children.

But here is what I do like:
I like that I'm old enough to know that my time with my children is delicate and fragile. I know that I will not "pass this way again" in my hours and days with them.

I like that I'm not worried too much about what other people think, nor am I as interested in myself as I used to be. This frees me to be a more authentic person and mama.

I like that being an older mom has made me more grateful for little things that I might not have noticed in my faster, self-absorbed, younger days.

I like that I have a bigger bag of experiences to draw from, that maybe I have a little more wisdom to share with my little ones.

More than anything else, being an older mama has allowed me to plant my feet firmly in two worlds: the world that is now, and the world that is to come.

I no longer think that I will live forever or have the endless luxury of time. But I also know the uninhibited, pure joy of youth. I get to see it every day in the faces of my precious children, who are not bound by time, but who live happily and resolutely in the present moment.

So thank you, God, for letting me be this old mama. You have given me far, far more than I have ever deserved. And I'll try my best to remember that when I'm using a piece of furniture to pull myself up off the floor.

Jana