Epic Mom

It's easy to think I can't do this geriatric mothering thing. That it's too hard. That I'm too old. That it's asking an awful lot to embrace all of this when Jack should be graduating this month and our nest would be empty in 2 years. I see much younger moms wrangling toddlers and I think, "Thank God that's not me!" before realizing, "Oh, but it is."

Even though I did not miss the baby/toddler/little kid stage-- one bit, I'm  enjoying it more than I thought I would. Before, because I always kind of wanted another child, I never knew if I was doing something for the LAST TIME. I'm pretty sure that when I do things with Andrew, it is for the last time (Please, God, please!) so I'm able to appreciate them a little more.

I'm surviving. But every once and a while I'll realize I'm not JUST surviving, I'm doing this thing like a BOSS!

Like when I was out with Andrew and he needed a diaper change. I threw open the tailgate of my car, placed the wriggling, almost 25 lb behemoth on his back, pinned him down, and made him smile with a love that was heart-melting, all while whisking away an epic diaper filled with last night's Chipotle.

I am Old Mommy, hear me ROAR!

And quack like a duck.

And moo.

And make silent fish noises, of course.