Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Not a midlife crisis.....




   
     This week I will turn forty four years old.  Really, that’s not a milestone.  It’s not a number that is going to get the mailbox decorated with black balloons or over the hill birthday cards.    And I pretty much feel and look better than I did when I was thirty four, when I was carrying an extra forty pounds, plus or minus twenty,  and looked as tired as any mom with a one, six and 11 year  old.   I have a few more wrinkles, but they don’t bother me.  You see them mostly when I smile, and if you made me smile, I don’t mind if you notice them.   I will be proud to show more of them off if you do me the favor of making me laugh! 


     It  has thrown me for a loop, then,  that I seem to be experiencing some age-related transitional problems.  I refuse to call it a mid-life crisis, because crisis sounds far too dramatic and negative, and I don’t have the sudden urge to go out and buy a sports car.   Going from a minivan to a bad ass black F150 was just me boasting that I no longer needed room for three car seats.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
 

     While I won’t be celebrating a milestone birthday, all three of my children did last year.  My oldest son turned twenty one, my daughter was sweet sixteen and my baby turned ten years old.  Part of me has been waiting for this moment for a long time, the day when I would find that not only do all of my children have some degree of independence from me, but I have some independence from them as well.   Heck I even went on a few dates with my husband and came home late enough to make my oldest text us to see if we were ok.


But for all these years, my primary purpose and function was to take care of my family.   I kissed boo boos and wiped runny noses.  I made Play-Doh cookies and Lego castles.  I tossed footballs and painted fingernails, made snowmen and helped with homework.  I watched every Disney movie multiple times, and still know most of the songs by heart.  I made costumes, and carved the coolest pumpkins.   In all the time I was a stay at home mom, my main focus was my kids. I didn’t go out, I didn’t make many friends, I didn’t worry about what  I looked like  I tried to master the art of taking care of three kids and a husband. My primary hobbies were reading, working on genealogy, and   keeping up with the news online after everyone was in bed.  I didn’t mind that time at all, I loved it really.  I was shy and staying home appealed to that part of me.  
     Sometime in the very recent past, the looks I get from my kids are less “Mum you are awesome!” to “Mum you don’t have a clue!” And folks, that really cuts deep.   My kids are intelligent, spectacular and sweet.  They would never hurt me on purpose.  They are acting completely in an age appropriate way.   I know that most every mother goes through this, and I know my mom went from my hero, to a lady who didn’t have a clue, back to my hero.  I know I am not alone.  Why doesn’t that make it just a little easier??   Why does my honey get to act like a goof and yet he still can be the cool guy? Why does the song, “You’re gonna miss this?”  make me cry every time?


      Now that my kids don’t need that type of mom anymore, I am really starting to struggle. I am so glad that I started working at the primary school, because it has allowed me to retain the best parts of that time and of me.  I get to care for hundreds of little ones.  It helps me when  my goofy side comes out and my own kids  would give me a look like I’m a doofus, my school kids will  still look at me like I am the BOMB.  

     The unexpected and wonderful side effect of my job is being surrounded by so many wonderful and supportive people, many of them going through their own series of struggles with life and its never-ending series of changes. I am trying to figure out how to appreciate that I am pretty OK outside of my role of “mum”.   I am confused by my feelings that vary from day to day, from feeling the beauty and awesomeness that growing older allows me to be to, the terrified woman who doesn’t have a clue as to what she is supposed to be, hopefully, for the next forty four years of her life.  
     Like the women before me, I’ll get through this, hopefully without leaving as many scars as most life changes mark us with.  And don’t be surprised if I show up with a new tattoo or a crazy new hair-do.  At least that’s a mark I have a choice in!



No comments:

Post a Comment