Twenty-three, ten and six, these are not my lucky numbers or a combination of the latest lottery numbers, these are the ages of my children. Yep, you read correctly, no need to go back. My oldest daughter is 23 years old, our son, the middle one, is 10 years old and our youngest daughter is 6 years old. When people learn about the range of the ages of our children, they often can’t believe we are starting all over again.
Needless to say, my husband and I are not the youngest parents in the kids' classes, especially in my youngest daughter's class. At one point, our oldest was graduating from high school, our middle one was entering pre-school and I was pregnant with our youngest. There is never a dull moment at home, and the range of issues can vary from a skinned knee, to a bad test grade or a broken heart. The insecurities and concerns I had with my oldest one seem silly to me now and I honestly chuckle at the things I use to worry about. Is she going to pass the third grade? Is she going to get in trouble because she doesn't have all of her patches on her Girl Scout vest? Will she know what do when a boy tries to kiss her? Am I a good mom? As an older parent, the insecurities and concerns are now different, I wonder if my little one is sometimes embarrassed because her mommy and daddy are the oldest parents in her class? I struggle with shifting the emotional compartment in my brain that needs to take care of a skinned knee but also needs to discuss a job promotion or life opportunity with my oldest one.
Although it can be challenging at times, I would not want it any other way. I thank the heavens above for blessing me with my youngest ones in my 40's. We will never be young empty nesters and will be attending school activities well into our 50's and as crazy as it may seem we are up for the challenge. These moments are precious to me and I know first hand how quickly the times flies by, in a blink of an eye your baby is 23-years-old!
My kiddos during a visit to Walt Disney World