Fifty! The big 5-0!

I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I just turned 50 and am no longer a young, youngish, or kind of young mom anymore.

I remember when I brought my first baby home and I thought I would be a young mom and have young children forever. What happened?! As they say, “Time waits for no one.” Not you. Not your son. Not your daughter. You blink . . . and your baby boy is a newleywed; your oldest daughter is about to be a senior in high school and start her first job; and your baby girl is turning 15 next month.

For a moment, I panic and try to think of a way to turn back the clock.

I will enjoy the baby stage more—who cares if I am tired?

I will be more patient with my children and enjoy all the questions they ask and be happy for all the countless days I sit with them after school and help with homework.

I will be thrilled to take them to all of their endless activities where I sometimes feel like a taxi.

I will take an extra second or two when I check on them at night to see if they are covered up and sleeping so innocently. 

I won’t long for the day when I can go to the grocery store by myself because they are old enough to stay home for 30 minutes by themselves. 

I won’t be excited when they no longer need my help with their homework because they are much better at math or science than I ever was. 

I will treasure every minute I get to read aloud to them and help them pick out their clothes and do their hair. 

I will smile as I wrap tons of Christmas gifts from Santa for them to see under the tree in the morning. 

Please, can I just go back in time so I can enjoy every moment more? I want to be a young mom again and hold my children in my lap and rock and sing them to sleep. Please.  

I know that I can’t go back in time no matter how much I want to, so I guess I’d better embrace the present and look at the good things about being an older mom. 

First, I can take a nap pretty much whenever I want when I am not at work. The kids actually like that because then mom isn’t asking them to do their chores or nagging them about homework.

I can read a book and probably get through an entire chapter without being interrupted. 

Sometimes I don’t have to be a taxi driver because my older daughter can take herself and sometimes the younger sister where they need to go. 

I can have adult conversations somewhere other than at work with my colleagues. 

I can sleep in! The teenagers sleep longer than I do—finally!

Yes, there are some great things about being an older mom . . . but if I had the choice, I would still choose to be a younger, more grateful mom.