Skip to main content

I Just Realized: I Am Old; Like Old Old

I'm old.

I turned 39 in April, so I guess it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.

And a million things could have triggered it.  Like the aches that linger a bit longer than they used too or the pains that don't quite subside.  The mornings that are harder to face than before.  There was the time my eye doctor told me my completely harmless eye condition came as the result of age.  But nope, none of that did it.  

A little baby did.

When I started hanging around with my wife's family we were the youngest of the group.  While I'm the oldest sibling in my family, my wife is the youngest of hers.  She had a couple nephews and a niece, but they were just entering their teen years.  So we were the ones finding  first jobs, and then second jobs, and exploring the world.  We were the ones living in new places and buying homes and then having kids.  And we didn't just have kids, we had triplets.  We were always the young up-and-comers.

But on Mother's Day, as my wife and I held our nephews month old baby and took turns watching as our kids held her, it dawned on me that my kids were now holding kids.  We are no longer the youngest of the bunch.

Its the nephew and nieces starting out in their careers, moving out of their parents homes, having kids, and generally establishing themselves and their places in the world.

Those nephews and niece are now in the same spot we were when I met my wife.  And we have moved on to the adults.  But that can't be right, I can't be an adult, can I?

And then I look around me.  I'm solidly in my career, as is my wife.  We own the small sliver of the home the bank doesn't have first dibs on.  We have triplets who are not only walking and talking, but graduating from preschool.  And holding babies!  Actual babies.  I remember when they couldn't hold anything.

Our threesome are more little children now than they are babies.  As we won't be having another one, this is it for us.  Our babes are, well, no longer babes.

And even as they pass from babes to honest to god kids, they are being passed as well, with other kids, other generations.  The circle of life.

And damn I'm old.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

NIGHTMARE: Three Kids; One Invite

Its a triplet parents worst nightmare, really. I only have triplets, so most of what I;m about to say about singletons is conjecture and assumption, but here goes: I imagine that when you have three kids of different ages its easy when only one of them is invited to a birthday party. Any younger child is probably interested in where an older sibling is going, but is easily refocused. Older children probably just don't care what a younger child is doing, but to the extent they are invested, I'd think its easy to explain to them. After all, they are probably in different schools, or at least different grades. They have different teachers, different classmates, and while they may share some friends, those are largely different as well. Not so with triplets When you have three kids all the same age they attend the same  school; often in the same class (as ours do). So when only one of them receives an invite, as our daughter did, its hard not  to feel slighted. After all, ...

Thoughts On Breastfeeding

I was going to post in this space about breastfeeding eventually.  It started when I joined Twitter recently as @triplethedad (follow me!) and started following a bunch of Mom and Dad types.  Although I previously experienced the ferver of the breastfeeding crowd, I was still taken aback by the militartism of some of them and the "us against them" attitude. I knew I would have to address it at some point, but honestly, as a Dad to formula fed triplets, I don't have a lot of experience or knowledge.  And further, while I'm not 100% comfortable around breastfeeding women, I have no problem with them/it and realize what they are doing is totally and completely natural.  So, between the lack of deep understanding and acceptance, I wasn't sure where to start.  What I did know was that I wanted to address the unnecassary ferver around the topic and the seeming war between formula and breast. Luckily, Jamie Lynn of Iamnotthebabysitter.com beat me to it in a post o...

Good parenting /= Stressed parenting

Just more evidence that taking a breather and giving your kids a little room to play on their own is good advice:   A new study suggests stressed parents result in obese kids. Why?  Well, the study suggests stressed out parents frequent fast-food joints more and are less inclined to plan organized meals.  Which makes sense.  Its hard to make food to feed two or three kids when you are busy ferrying them each to 3 sports or activities. What can you do to stop the stress?  Stop trying to make your child the next Einstein or LeBron James.  Yes, you want to provide every opportunity available, but your child's genes set in concrete when sperm met egg.  No amount of after-school activities will make a child with a 95 IQ the next Stephen Hawking nor your short, slow child an NFL wide receiver.  Relax and enjoy who your child is, rather than worrying about what they will become.  Ninety five percent of your role in who your chi...