No Denying the Truth--or My Age, either!

The Vogt Kiddos: Jen, my daughter-in-love, & Josh, Katie Beth & Amy, and Christa, my caboose kiddo




I'm standing next to another mom.

My daughter, Christa, is attending her son's birthday party. The kids are happily riding go-carts. I've arrived to pick Christa up, but who wants to leave early from a birthday party?

So, the mom and I are chatting.

She tells me how wonderful Christa has been with her younger daughter, who smiles as she rides the go-carts with Christa at the wheel.

"Oh, Christa loves being with kids her age. She really enjoys having someone younger than her. She has three siblings who are older than her."

"Oh, really? How much older?" the other mom asks.

Uh, oh. The jig is up.

I take a deep breath and confess," A lot older." Another deep breath. "Her brother is 25--and married. Her one sister is 22. Her other sister is 20."
I do not make eye contact as I share this information. But, I swear I can hear the mom trying to calculate how old I am.

For the first time, I am embarrassed to be an older mom. I want to stuff all those numbers back down my throat. I want to pretend Christa is an only child. I want to pretend I am much, much younger than I am.

Did this mom say anything to humilate me? Did she gasp? Did she offer to help me to my car?

No. This is all about me realizing, once again, that I am older than most of Christa's friends' moms. And that's just the way it's going to be. Maybe because I have a birthday rushing towards me, I'm a bit more sensitive about the age issue right now.

Reality is, I wrote Baby Changes Everything, a book about being an older mom. My age is right there in black and white--certified with a Library of Congress number and copyright. All you have to do is a little mental math and you can figure out how old I am, any time, any year.

(And no, I'm not posting my age on this blog. Go get the book, if you want to know that badly!)

The age issue comes with being an older mom. When I was a younger mom, I was the mom of only three kiddos. Would I go back to being a younger mom?

No.

I love my caboose kiddo dearly--and I wouldn't want to miss these years for anything.

Now, excuse me while I sign off. It's late and as much as I love late-in-life motherhood, this Mommy-Come-Lately® needs her sleep.