Ode to the Fresh Moms

Please don't diss us, younger sisters. 

We are the older, tired moms.

We have BEEN there, and we have DONE that, and frankly we are exhausted. We are 40-something Velveteen rabbits, and though we are loved, our ears are a little torn and our fur is a little matted from all of our years of service. We are leaps and bounds smarter, but more exhausted,  than our former selves.

We KNOW things. They are like ancient Chinese secrets within us. When you young ones bounce in with all of your fresh energy, and special back-to-school Pinteresty things, and baskets of fall gourds that look like cute Halloween spooks, (and did I mention all of your energy?), well, you just go girl!! We are rooting you on! We are passing the baton to YOU!!!! Monogram and Pinterest on, sweet ladies!!!!

Some of us have done the room mom thing (SIX times to be exact), and the team mom thing, and the organizer of this, and the volunteer for that. We have sorted the papers twice a week, and delivered the Starbucks, and decorated the doors, and cut out the 3-D hexagons, and hung the footprint Christmas trees, and mastered the science slime, and blown up a picture of the chihuahua team mascot and hot glued it to a yard stick, and made 20 fruit kabobs because the boys bat better after cantaloupe for some reason. We have, in fact, *rocked* it.

But we are now a bit different from the moms we once were. We love our children more than life itself, but We ...Are...Tired.

Older moms may have more dark circles and a tad more back fat, but we are wise. Like, way wise.

We now know those hundreds of dollars we spent on our child's first birthday party were worthless. Oh, we aren't judging. Not by a long shot. I planned a first birthday party for my first child (close to Easter) where I baked a big bunny cake, decorated a cupcake with each child's initial on it, orchestrated a huge Easter egg hunt for all of the kiddos, decorated the house, and constructed a photo montage with a precious picture for each month of my child's life.

Oh yes, I did.

Do know how much of this he now remembers? 

Nada.

I should have actually bought a Publix cake, snapped some pics, and used all of that time, energy, and money toward a family vacation for all of us.

Live and learn.

So, young, energetic moms, we have been there before. We WERE you.

But we are now at the point in our mom life cycle, that sometimes just putting on makeup and fixing our hair makes us want to curl up in the fetal position.

Mom burnout is a real thing. Why else would everyone's second child's baby book still be blank?

We are now helping with things like actual algebra, and late night baseball tournaments, and figuring out how to fit a trombone on the bus.

We did all of the fantastic things in the name of being there and supporting our children and being involved. And it was great. It truly was. And it was important. It served it's purpose. 

But now, as our children get older, we find that our support and energy is needed in other ways.

Our children may have a project, two quizzes, and five tests in the span of a week, and frankly, we just don't have time to worry about construction paper cornucopias. But trust me, we wish we did. Fall crafts trump math pretty much ALWAYS.

There came a point for me when the laundry was piling up, and I desperately needed to go to grocery store...for like, food, and it was 1:30 in the morning, and I found myself thinking that the construction paper Weimaraners and dachshunds running a marathon on the class door would look so much cuter if they were wearing Nikes and Asics. It was then that I asked myself what in the fresh heck I was doing.

And sometimes when sitting there cutting out box tops that for some bloody reason some can't seem to cut along the perforated lines, and you are grumpy, and you could be playing Scattegories with your kids instead, you find yourself asking, is this really giving me *more* time with my kids?

Don't get me wrong, helping out, volunteering, being room mom and all that other stuff is important. Very important. But there also comes a time when you tell yourself enough is enough. You are older, and you are tired. It's time to back up and let some fresh blood give it a whirl. It's time to back off a bit, get into our hovering mommy-copters and blow this joint.

Let the younger ones hold down the fort. It's time for me to stop cutting out 1,732 valentines and do something about this mom arm fat that could give me a black eye when I wave.

So please, young energetic moms, don't judge us when we forget to turn in the money in time for the gift card tree you are whipping together or send in the gardening tools, tumbler filled with candy, or the sprinkles for the ice cream party a day late.

We know you've got it covered.

Because it used to be us with a whipped latte to be dropped off in one hand and an extra plain white T in tow in case one of the moms forgot.  

But this is your time now. And I respect the heck out of you. I salute you. Power on, Sister. 

I'll see you on the other side soon enough...when you have finally cursed under your breath with construction paper and scissors at 2 am for the absolute last time.

What you are doing is real. It's important. And it matters.

But there will come a point in your life when you are a more frayed Velveteen Rabbit mom, and at 9 pm you just want to watch Criminal Minds and eat Breyers out of the carton. 

And that's really okay. I promise.

You have earned it.