One of the nice things about having a kid as a mother of “advanced maternal age” (over 35) is that I feel young again. I’m doing all kinds of ridiculous things like playing in sandboxes, making forts and walking around in public carrying stuffed animals. And I don’t even care about how ridiculous I look.
On the other hand, not only am I exhausted, but I realize that I’m about to die.
Only a couple of years ago, I felt like I was closer in age to my college days than to retirement. But now I realize that I’m almostcloser to being old than being young. It’s freaking me out. And I’m thinking about doing things that never would have occurred to me a few years ago. While my body is still relatively intact and my face is only mildly embedded with shallow lines, I’d like to have some fun while I’m young. (Humor me, here. Let me pretend I’m still somewhat young.)
Here are the 6 things I want to do because I’m having a mom-life crises:
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Act like I’m still young 1 of 7When I was child-free, I thought my friends who had kids were so lame for letting their kids run their lives. They rarely went out anymore and when they did, they went home at 10pm. I decided that I was going to be one of those cool moms, you know, the one who takes her kids on adventures and then ditches them with a babysitter so that she can go out to parties and stuff. So I tried that way of life. And it made me tired. The sad truth? Staying out all night isn't quite as exhilarating when you have to be up between 5:30-7:30am every damn day for the next ten years.
Get a tattoo 2 of 7I've always thought that tattoos were immature and foolish. But then I saw a "cool" mom at my son's preschool with a tattoo of her daughter's name on her arm and I thought "I have to get a tattoo of Laszlo's name." The problem with getting a tattoo when I'm almost middle aged, is that I can't help but imagine how it will look when I'm 60 on whichever body part I choose for it. Which rules out the butt. Although, let's face it, getting your son's name tattooed on your butt isn't an option.
Dye my hair pink 3 of 7I saw a story in Elle or some magazine about how to temporarily color your hair with pink pigment powders. I thought this would be an awesomely cool, crazy—but-not-too-crazy thing to do. And then I started to notice that a lot of other moms around my age had the same idea. What is going on with all these old moms with pink hair? LAME. But I might do it anyway! Because I've gone crazy like that!
Get a motorcycle 4 of 7I mean listen, I've always wanted one. In my teens and 20's, I rode on the back of a few motorcycles attached to hot guys and I assumed that one day I'd get my own. "One day" never came. At this point in my life, it's now or never. The irony of motorcycle yearning is that it stems from a feeling that "life is short," which is probably exactly what my life will be if I ride one (and yes, that is exactly what Joel loves to point out every time it comes up.)
Own a gun 5 of 7I've started to think about getting a gun. Part of this was because Joel wasn't taking our home security system seriously enough. Part of it was when I saw a story in the New York Times about these adorable "purse pistols." I got seduced by them. I like the pink one. I've never loved the color pink, but suddenly I want pink hair and a pink gun? WTF is going on with me? Where would I even keep such a thing? Definitely not in my purse! Also, Joel hates the whole idea. Because he's so not fun. And controlling. GOD! Who does he think he is? Someone's dad?
Ignore the obvious 6 of 7I realize that if I did these things, I would seem ridiculous. But part of me doesn't even care if I look like I'm having a mom-life crisis. Just like I don't care how ridiculous I look carrying around stuffed animals. I don't care that I'm just like all the other moms who think they're cool but they're not. I just want to do it. I guess I just want to get back in touch with that non-mom side of me. I want to have a tattoo and pink hair and ride my motorcycle into the woods at night where I shoot at cans. And then go out drinking with a posse of hipsters. Then again, I get pretty tired around 9pm.
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Photo credits: Veer
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