When I married my high school boyfriend in my early 20s, I couldn’t wait to start a family. Before I knew it, I was pregnant and doing everything I could to prepare. From avoiding soft cheese to obsessing over parenting books, I wanted to make sure everything was just right.
As soon as I had my son, it was love at first sight, but I knew my life had changed dramatically in an instant. None of those parenting books prepared me for a tiny human who wouldn’t follow the “baby rules.”
I spent my nights desperately trying to get him to sleep in his crib while I sobbed silently, wondering what I was doing wrong. Sleep deprivation, the demands of breastfeeding, and guilt consumed me while other people my age were drinking wine and exploring the world.
I was left to parent 2 kids under the age of 5
There were highs and lows in those early stages, but by the time my daughter was born, we were in a structured routine that I was determined to stick to.
Shortly after, my marriage fell apart, and I was left to parent two kids under the age of 5 alone. While devastating, I was finally gaining confidence as a mother. Still in my 20s, I had the energy to explore a different park every weekend, host playdates, and spend hours making the perfect dress-up day costumes. I also made time for self-care, working out, getting my hair done, and painting my nails.
In our parenting group, I was the young, bubbly mom. I looked up to the parents in their 40s but felt like we had little in common except our kids. These women weren’t worried about what people thought and did grown-up things like buying new cars and eating brunch on a Sunday. Meanwhile, I was driving around my secondhand vehicle and still wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up.
While I was content with my pigeon pair, I didn’t rule out any future children. Even though I was single, I thought I’d be open to the idea if the right person came along. I wasn’t clucky, but I also didn’t feel “done” yet.
I had my last baby in my late 30s
In my late 30s, I met Jeremy, who is 10 years older than me. He had never been married and never had kids. Eventually, we tied the knot and discussed our future and whether any more children were on the cards.
Most parents know there’s a sweet spot, and it is somewhere between the ages of 7 and 12. Your kids are more independent. They make breakfast, get dressed, and help with the chores. The hormones haven’t kicked in, and they wouldn’t dream of screaming, “I hate you.”
So, I decided I’d have one more during that sweet spot. But I felt the difference immediately. Compared to my first two, I felt I’d aged 50 years because everything hurt, and my bladder did what it wanted.
I’m more confident as an older mom
However, there are benefits to being an older mom. This time, I feel more confident and don’t punish myself for not being perfect. When people told me to give my newborn a bottle, I persevered with breastfeeding. And, when she had a bad night, I’d let her lie next to me instead of screaming herself to sleep. Routines are still important, but they can be broken, and I have learned to do whatever works for my family.
Now, I’m the oldest mom in the group — and I feel like it. But age is just a number, and friendships are built on mutual interests, not the year you were born or how gray your hair is.
I’m raising kids who are 6, 14, and 16. Let’s just say their emotions and tantrums are all pretty similar. Despite the ups and downs, our littlest one has made our family whole. The age gap means she is spoilt by her siblings, and I have live-in babysitters.
As an older mom, I know that doing my best for my kids is good enough, and I just wish I could tell my younger self that.
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