John and Menopause Mommy
I'm one of those moms that opted to have my second baby in my mid-thirties. Since he’s a rambunctious three year old now, you can about guess my age. My first is an intelligent, well-adjusted eighteen
year old enjoying his first year away at college.
I have the best of both worlds.
With my oldest, the pressure is minimal. He’s relatively independent and quite confident. On the other hand, the little fellow is still in the stage of play dates, construction paper and “Please don’t eat the paste” commands. Along with him also comes the twenty-something moms that stress over the small stuff and religiously read Parent.Com for the latest recalls and pre-school research. I feel like a Martian in their world.
When my first boy was little, I was just as spastic. I worried about him falling, I washed the fruit until the skin began to shrink and he could rarely run without me screaming “BE CAREFUL!” in the background. I stressed that poor kid out, I’m sure.
Now as an older mom, I have a lower sensitivity to the latest warnings and research findings. Sure, I listen for the critical stuff, but honestly, I stopped listening when the research on coffee grew cloudy – one day bad for you; next day good for you. Whatever!
Being an older mom does have it’s fair share of challenges. I must work out or my energy level wanes rather quickly. Let’s get real, it wanes anyway. My three year old is always on the move, always exploring and
always thinking. It’s a full-time job to keep up with his latest antics and adventures. Oh yeah, I have had one – and only one “are you his grandma?” inquiry. I added blond highlights to my hair the next day. I guess what I’m saying is challenges and all; I am really “digging” being a mommy again. Sure, the manic young moms may cause me to feel like a slacker every now and again as I dismiss the latest baby news flash, but all in all, life is good.
Further, my little tiger is thriving developmentally, somewhat relaxed in temperament and is comfortable in his skin. He’s not afraid of “every little thing” because his mom is not. I go with the flow and it works for us. One of my favorite lines from the comedy “Everybody Loves Raymond” is when the sitcom wife, Deborah, said “As long as I don’t see blood or scissors, I figure everything’s okay”. That’s where I live.
A little about me. I'm a consultant and the funkiest pastor's wife you've
ever seen! My websites are tericbrooks.com and GodsyGirl.Com.