mature moms Archives - Page 3 of 4 - Insanity Is Not An Option

My Baby, My Bubby…He’s 6 Today!

Today, my baby turns 6. SIX. This little miracle of mine kind of completes me. He completes my whole family and the world is a better place because he’s in it. His light and his aura can melt the coldest of hearts, and one look into those kind, thoughtful, big blue eyes with those incredibly long lashes can convince the hardest soul that there is hope for this world. He’s sharp as a tack, he’s funny (my goodness this kid is hysterical without even trying), he’s handsome, and he’s just a great all around human being. The day he was born, I truly heard angels sing and the world became a little brighter for all that come in contact with him.

Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my kids, very much. They are all amazing and they all possess beautiful qualities. But this little boy holds the key to all of our hearts and today, his day, we celebrate his greatness. We revel in his quirky behavior. We giggle at that crooked little smile. We just celebrate the fact that some higher power decided to grace us with his presence in our lives, in this world. To know Bubby is to love him. If you’re having a bad day, talk to Bubby. A horrible week can be washed away with just one “huggy time” from this little prince. People gravitate to him, as they should, and he’s happy to entertain and enrich their lives, if only for a moment.

Happy birthday little man. Today I celebrate you and thank you for sharing your wit, your charm, and your light with me for the past 6 years. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you, because it will obviously be filled with greatness. But today, just let me hold on to my baby for a little while longer. I love watching you grow into such an amazing person, I just wish it wasn’t all happening so fast. I love you, Bub, we all do! Happy 6th birthday to the kindest soul I’ve ever met. Never let anyone change you, no matter what, and keep being amazing. You’re wiser at 6 than most adults and I honestly think you, and people like you, will be the change that this world needs. Stay humble, stay awesome, stay YOU, and know that you are loved…always and forever!

On Being a Mom of “Advanced Maternal Age”

By Christy 2 Comments

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.

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.

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!

So the kids are all potty-trained, now what?

By Christy 11 Comments

You should know that I’m sharing TMI 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. #SAMInYourPants

I’ve potty trained 6 kids for pretty much my entire adult life. I literally changed diapers for about 23 years. It started the minute Bry was born 24 years ago, and ended about a year ago when I finally got Bubby to stop peeing on himself. Such is the life of a 40 (mumble) something year old mom of 6 kids from the ages of 24 down to 5. I set myself up for this actually so I can’t complain. But YAY, I’m done with diapers. I’m done with poopie pants. I’m done with worries of little people not making it to the potty on time.

But I’m not. Now I’m the little person that I have to worry about. Since they’ve all “arrived”, I find myself in a 9 line bind at times. You see, I hold “it”. I hold it WAY too long. I’ve done it my whole life. When I was little, I held it. My mom still tells stories (seriously, she needs to let it go) of me sitting on the back porch, waiting for the ice cream man, and doing the pee-pee dance as I waited. Because I was holding it. Only, I never really held it well and often peed down the porch steps. While I waited. Then I’d do the walk of shame into the house, without my ice cream, and have to change my pants. I failed.

Somewhere along life’s journey, I found a way to perfect the pee-pee dance and make it to the bathroom before I had to take that walk of shame. But then, somewhere along the way, I lost my touch. As women birth herds of children (especially if they were all 8-9+ pounders like mine were), they lose the control factor. Things, simple life events (like laughing, running through an airport, holding your pee and stuff) just don’t work anymore. And you find yourself walking that walk of shame again. It’s quite normal though and it has a name. It’s called light bladder leakage, or LBL, and SOOO many women experience this after childbirth. So I’m normal, sort of.

A recent week-long trip for a conference and meet up with my besties really challenged me, and my pee-pee dance mastery. This life skill, or lack there of, actually made its way to my Facebook wall (of shame).

That’s right folks, I piddle in my pants at times. No, I don’t full-on pee. Stop that! I just hold it. Then I giggle snort. And oopsie…a leak…as I run (don’t walk…pee-pee dance…OMG RUN) to the bathroom. It is what it is.

With each child (have I mentioned I have a herd?) this phenomenon gets a little worse. I’m not as bad off as some, but it’s totally a thing for me, as of late anyway. On adult beverage nights, oh my stars, it’s so much worse. Don’t make me laugh too hard. Don’t make me wait too long. Just, well, don’t. I’ll piddle, and I’ll snort, which tends to make me piddle just a little bit more. Panties are expensive y’all. I don’t want to have a panty budget just because, well…pee in my pants.

So what’s a lady (ha, ha..shush…that’s funny right there) to do? Well the answer is most assuredly not piddle in her pants just because some crazy ladies make her giggle snort constantly. Wait, have I told you about my most recent meet up with my tribe yet? If you knew them, you’d know this is NOT my fault. They’re the ones that make me piddle and I needed a solution. Badly. And I found one! I think. I hope. Because you know, panty budget is not…well…in the budget.

Poise. They have microliners. They’re super thin and they won’t make me look like I’m wearing a diaper. Because I think I’ve made it clear. I’m over diapers. No more piddle. Well, that’s not true, but the panties won’t suffer when I hold “it” for way too long anymore. No more walk of shame. No more piddle in my panties. I’ve got this with their help and the help of some strategic daily exercise.

So, be honest, do you piddle too? It’s OK, you’re a mom, that’s what we do. It’s just light bladder leakage and it’s totally a thing. Come on over to the Poise side and save your panties. If you want to try them before you buy them, I’ve got you covered there too. Free samples anyone?

No more walks of shame y’all. NO MORE walks. of. shame!