On Being a Mom of “Advanced Maternal Age”

this is advanced maternal age

People often ask me what it’s like to be an “old” mom. They don’t say it like that, but that’s what they mean. They say things like, “How does it feel to have young children in your forties?” or “How do you deal with little kids at YOUR age?”. Those kinds of things.

I say I feel blessed. Let me explain.

You see, I’ve seen both sides of the coin. I was a young parent (not as young as a lot of my southern cohorts, but young by my standards). I was barely 22 when I had my first minion. She was gorgeous. She was perfect. I wasn’t ready for her, financially or emotionally. I loved her with all of my heart and soul, but we struggled and I wasn’t in a strong relationship. I was a kid. Then number two came along, not planned, and I wasn’t ready, at the age of 27.

Note the absence of a Daddy in this family photo. They had one, the same one, but he was never present.

1994: Note the absence of a Daddy in this family photo. They had one, the same one, but he was never present.

We muddled through. We were happy. We survived 2 marriages (my fault, not theirs) and a lot of macaroni and cheese…together. It wasn’t always fun. But I wasn’t ready for them. Financially, as most young parents (not all, and I won’t generalize, plus kudos to those of you who are) aren’t. I just wasn’t ready. Putting food on the table was my focus. We didn’t do a lot of fun stuff. When we did, I sacrificed healthy meals for macaroni and cheese and hot dogs. It was a trade off.

Luckily for me (us), their birthdays were both in the summer. That meant they got clothes for their birthdays from relatives, then clothes for Christmas from their relatives. Yes, I had their wardrobes covered. And their toys. I guess I planned that part well at least. Although, none of that was the plan. But my goodness, I loved those girls, obviously I still do, and wanted more for them. I wanted to provide them with more. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready.

Gossett Family 2008

And then I was presented with the opportunity, when I was ready, to have children at an “advanced maternal age” with my current husband. I wondered, I worried. Would I be here for them when they were grown? Would I see them grow? Could I, would I, be able to do this at 39, and then 41? You bet your ass I was ready this time, and it’s so much easier this go round. I actually highly recommend being a parent of “advanced maternal age”. I was ready. And you know what? My babies don’t want for crap. They have all they need and then some.

I’m here. I’m present. And I don’t have to stress the small stuff anymore. Well, other than them, because they’re still small, and I stress their little happiness. It’s awesome being a mom of “advanced maternal age”. It’s great being financially stable and knowing that when I want to take them on an adventure, I can, without worrying about the unhealthy meals I’ll have to feed them for a MONTH to make up for the financial sacrifice of fun.

So, if you ask me what it’s like to be an “old mom”, I have to say, it’s AWESOME. I was ready for these babies. And I’m still young enough to handle the daily life of parenthood. Parenting in your 40s is like grandparenting on steroids. You get to spoil them, you can afford it, and you get to keep them full time. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like this in the whole world!

If you’re of “advanced maternal age” and wondering if you should take the plunge, DO IT! There’s nothing quite like this. I’m just amazed by the beauty of my world every day. Although I still worry if I’ll be around to see their milestones, I’m thankful that these babies have graced my life, and that I’m at a point in my life where they don’t have to need, or want, for anything.

So, yes, I’m happy to be an “old mom”, just in case you wanted to ask!

My first “baby” is 20! What the what?

Paetyn 1994
My first baby is 20 today. What the what? For those of you that really know me, you know I have 3 “sets” of babies. I had my first “set” when I was pretty young (yes, I was young once) from my first (oh what a mistake other than the babies) husband. My 2nd “set” came to me ready made when I married B. And my 3rd “set” came from this crazy life that you read about daily with Bug and Bubby (which by the way is totally my last set).

BUT, my baby from my first set? She’s 20 today. TWENTY. And she has a baby of her own. Yes, that makes me a grandma, or Mimi as I prefer. Y’all, she’s grown! When did this happen? In a blink, my “first” baby is grown. And what a beautiful grown up she’s turned out to be. I’m proud, I’m elated, and I’m sad. I really miss my baby.

my first baby bright

That girl? That little hot mess that couldn’t go to school without mommy sitting by her desk for at least 10 minutes before she could acclimate every day? She’s grown. And she’s a mommy. And she’s a good mommy at that. And she’s 20. TWENTY freakin years old. My “first” baby. Plus, when did she get that tall?

I remember the day she was born, like it was yesterday, but it wasn’t. She was gorgeous. Red headed fuzz and all. My “first” baby. In some ways, she’ll always be my baby, whether she has her own baby or not, and whether I’ve had more babies or not. She was my first, and at that time, my last. My baby.

She wears her heart on her sleeve, like her mommy, and she’s as shy as the day is long, very much unlike her mommy. The day she was born, my life was complete, because she was MY baby. And now, she’s blessed me with a grandchild, a legacy. A new heart that beats in a whole new way. Love.

Having children was my calling, whether I knew it or not. My “first” baby taught me the meaning of love by being born, and by showing me the world that only a Mimi could see. Thank you baby girl for gracing my life. And thank you for carrying on this legacy. The day you were born, I heard the angels sing.

Happy birthday! I love you more than the world is big, but you already knew that! I hope.

Be honest. Can you tell I have a problem?

You should know that I’m sharing TMI about LBL with you here today as part of a sponsored post for Socialstars and Poise Microliner. As always, all opinions and ideas are entirely my own. #PoisewithSAM

Poise Microliner, LBL, light bladder leakage, #PoisewithSAM

Usually, when I talk about being a mom, it’s with much pride and joy. Most of the time, I really enjoy being a mom. I guess that’s why I have six kids. But sometimes, motherhood isn’t always easy. You see, I have problems. There’s the screaming and fighting (OH.EM.GEE…the fighting) that I deal with on a daily basis. There’s the constant dealing with issues like “I’m hungry” or “I’m bored”, especially during the summer months. And there are those things, those amazingly ridiculous things, that my children did to my body during pregnancy. That’s the ugly side of motherhood and it’s a fact of life. I’m talking about disappearing boobs, belly issues (like, holy crap, where did that extra skin come from?), and piddle problems stemming from light bladder leakage (LBL). But I don’t look like I have those problems, right?

Motherhood is rough, y’all. I want to keep up with my active lifestyle. I want to be able to play with my kids. I want to be able to giggle snort at will. I want to work out, whenever I want to work out. I want to ride bikes. I want to walk on the Seawall. I want to do all of this without fear of peeing in my pants. And I sure as heck don’t want to wear diapers to avoid the inevitable. I deal with life’s little challenges as they come along in any manner I see fit.

When my boobs disappeared after baby #2, I bought new ones. Problem solved.

When my belly sag got the best of me after baby #4, I began a daily workout routine and bought clothes to camouflage the body part I had grown to despise. Problem partially solved, but I’m still working on that.

But when I started piddling in my pants just because I giggle snorted, or waited too long, or exercised, or played too hard, I just did the walk of shame to my bedroom and changed my panties. I’m not talking full-on pee here, I’m talking piddle. Something had to be done! LBL is a common problem among women, especially moms, so there had to be SOMETHING out there to help a mom out that wasn’t a stupid adult diaper. I’m too young for that (really, I am, shush your pie hole).

Enter Poise Microliners to the rescue. No more walks of shame for me this summer. I’m going to have fun in the sun without fear of embarrassment. I’m ready, are you?

Poise Microliner, #PoisewithSAM, LBL, light bladder leakage

This summer, when I head out to sit by the pool and watch the babies splash, go play at the park, go out on a ka-zillion mile bike ride (seriously B, those bike rides do NOT have to be that long), or just head out anywhere for a day of fun, I bring along all of the essentials and I don’t have to worry about a thing!

With enough sun block (and a few shots in my face), some strategically worn clothing, and a Poise Microliner in my panties (or a couple of the tiny, individually wrapped liners in my purse), no one will know I have any problems at all and I can enjoy my summer however I’d like, where ever I’d like. Comfortable and carefree! Wanna know how these super absorbent microliners work?

Poise Microliner, #PoisewithSAM, LBL, light bladder leakage

Well, to start, they’re super thin as you can plainly see so they’re incredibly discreet and comfortable. No one will know it’s there. You might even forget until the LBL monster attacks. But you know what? This little tiny thing can hold a LOT of liquid and still go unnoticed.

Poise Microliner, #PoisewithSAM, LBL, light bladder leakage

Don’t believe me? Proof is in the picture. I decided to SHOW you instead of just tell you so I did a little test. That’s a lot of liquid in that tiny microliner. Wait. Don’t go. That’s NOT pee (seriously, I wouldn’t do that to you, that’s just gross). I did my test with beer to prove my point. It seemed fitting since drinking alcohol (which often makes you giggle snort) is an LBL trigger for many. I poured half a can on this microliner!

Poise Microliner, #PoisewithSAM, LBL, light bladder leakage

And it’s still THAT thin! Six ounces of fluid and still that thin. Amazeballs, right? If you deal with LBL on a daily basis, you’re not alone. One in three women experience light bladder leakage so there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plus, no one has to know. No more walks of shame, no more embarrassing piddle problems. If my little experiment wasn’t enough to convince you, be sure to get your free sample and try them out yourself.

Enjoy your summer without worry this year. No more piddle problems, no more walks of shame. I’m totally ready for summer, are you?