I’m One of the Oldest Moms at My Kid’s Elementary School

I’m a mom of four kids, and I’m in my mid-forties. My age becomes glaringly apparent when I’m among other parents who are assisting my youngest child’s class: a group of nearly twenty-five second graders with younger parents who appear to be in their late twenties.

Aging is a beautiful thing, they say. Who are they? I’m not sure. However, I absolutely agree that getting older is a gift and, I’ve discovered, can be quite settling. After all, the things that younger parents are worried about no longer concern me as an “old” mom. I’ve lived, and I have learned.

I have no desire to keep up with appearances

What you see is what you get with me, including my physical appearance. To be frank, there are twelve-year-olds who do their makeup better than I ever could. My days are often jam-packed with appointments, drop off and pick ups, writing assignments, chores, and errands. I have very little time to care about what others think about my fashion choices and makeup — or lack thereof.

I also don’t worry about how I am perceived by others. I embrace that I can be chill and comfortable some days or a Hot Mess Express on other days, all thanks to having four kids plus perimenopause.

Part of my radical acceptance also comes from the fact that I’m a two-time breast cancer survivor. I’ve been stripped down to almost nothing, fighting for my life, so I have a different perspective on life than many. I simply don’t have the mental capacity to attempt to impress others, whether it’s my educational degrees, my appearance, or even my parenting skills. Take me or leave me, just don’t annoy me.

I don’t sweat small stuff, like outfit choices

My new outlook on appearances extends to my kids, too. I no longer demand that they be presentable in order to please others. Gone are the days of matching sibling outfits.

Meet any teen, and you know they will wear the same sweatshirt, every day, no matter how many clothes you buy them. My second grader, within reason, can dress as she pleases, as I have learned dressing oneself is a form of self-expression and independence. It doesn’t hurt anyone that her clothes are mismatched.

I focus on different things with my kids

As an older mom, I know better than to obsess over my kids’ grades or sports scores. Basically, the numbers don’t make the kid.

Before I became a mom, I was a college teacher. I quickly learned that how well a kid did number-wise in school turned out to have very little to do with their future success. I understand that if my children’s physical, mental, and emotional health aren’t in order, academics and rankings are inconsequential.

I know better than to overextend myself

There are loads of volunteer opportunities, and I don’t sign up for every one. The reality is, I don’t have time. The other reason is because, truthfully, I don’t want to. I do not feel obligated to be busting my butt at every volunteer opportunity each of my four kids has. Instead, my husband and I split some of the duties, and we also prioritize. No, if you recall, is a complete sentence.

I let my kids figure out some things on their own

I don’t summon the manager, er, principal, every single time someone calls my kid a name, because I’ve learned this simply isn’t an emergency. Instead, I invest in teaching my kids coping skills, listening to their feelings, and offering guidance. Mama Bear does come out when something is beyond my kids’ capabilities and the situation is persistently an issue, but I conserve my energy for the bigger battles and try not to sweat the small stuff.

I’m comfortable in my role

Gone are my days of wrangling little ones into strollers and frantically trying to change diapers and serve snacks. Instead, my world has changed from keeping up with babies to being the family chauffeur. It feels good to be an older and wiser parent who knows how to stay in my lane — because that’s all I have the capacity for.