Young Mum vs. Old Mum

Lauren Derrett - 30 Jun 16

I had my first son at 23. I was young, I was energetic, I was naive!

Parenting was all new and every single day brought about a first. A first smile, a first giggle, a first word, a first step. My first mortgage, my first HP on a 3 year old fiesta and a 22 inch flat-screen TV. I embraced every single moment of it. It was magical, I didn’t question it nor myself. I had an abundance of youthful energy and an ignorance of my ever rising debts, I was in a parenting bubble exclusive to the young mum.

I made friends with mums at the many groups I found myself at, I built a network of support around me and just loved every minute of my new life. I still went out and partied with the gals and I could survive unscathed on less than 5 hours sleep. I took pride in my nappy bag, clean change of clothes, bread sticks, organic rice cakes, sudocrem, calpol, every angle covered. I queued at 7.30 am at Toys R Us clutching my *1 doll allowance* ticket to get him a Teletubby doll that he left in a corner gathering dust. I would venture into the ball pit with him and on the helter skelter slides. I was a good mum.

Fast forward 13 years and 2 more kids.

I had my LAST son at 39. I’m old, I’m knackered and I’m all out of enthusiasm.

I find myself making excuses to ‘pop’ out and ‘escape’. I work so that I don’t have to play lego, I rely far too heavily on the ever available 24 hour kids TV (on my now fully paid for TV). I forced myself to sign up to Tumble Tots, we went twice. I went to a dusty old church hall so that he could play with filthy, battered old toys, I could drink half a cup of tea from a scaled up urn and a force down a soggy digestive that had previously been mauled by a snotty nosed toddler and his mother. She put it back onto the plate? I mean, WTF??

My nappy bag (not that he’s in nappies any more) contains, baby wipes (used and unused) lip balm (for me) half a pack of tissues (used and unused) and if I’m really organised I’ll remember to pack his water. I have been caught out with my ill prepared bag once at soft play/garden center. He had done an explosive poo, in his joggers, no nappy. I had to buy a pair of pyjamas (it’s all they had) and changed him into them. I put the sh*ty pants into the sanitary bin in the loos (no nappy sacks to in my bag obvs) rinsed out the joggers and sent him on his way, monkey pyjamas and all back into the soft play.

The biggest problem I’ve found as an older mum is that I read more meaningful, in-depth parenting books, I’m taking on board the effect that I have on my child, I have lost the youthful ignorance I once had. I used to just follow my peers and their parenting styles rather than decide what was best for my individual child. That’s what’s fu*ked me up as an older parent, the knowledge!! When I was a young mum I was hard pushed to find any parental advice, I had to physically hunt it out. Nowadays it’s all at the touch of a button. It’s a massive money making industry. Women who haven’t even experienced being a parent tells you how you’re getting it all wrong. It sucks you in, it fills you’re head with 100 different ways to parent and then it leaves you in a tangled heap not knowing what you need to do to be a good mum.

Also, as an older mum I have already got a pretty established group of friends around me. At the his new school, I wont make eye contact with the playground Mafia (been there done that). I don’t want to strike up any new friendships nor enter into some parenting competition that we all know is going on but nobody admits to. I have trouble exiting a helter skelter slide and now I know what’s lurking at the bottom of a ball pit, I don’t want either of us to go in there (although of course I allow him to go in, it buys me valuable coffee drinking time).

The plus side of being an older mum is that he has a fully kitted out play room (which he never uses) a 10ft trampoline (that he only goes on if someone else goes on with him, this plays havoc with my pelvic floor and at my age could cause all manor of heart conditions) alongside anything else that I think will keep him entertained in the vain hope that I wont have to.

Bottom line, when you’re a young mum you’re carefree, blindly parenting like the mum sat next to you and all bouncy with enthusiasm. When you’re an old mum, you spend each day rehearsing how you’ll behave should someone refer to you as his nan whilst flicking through kids TV channels, drinking too much wine and tripping up on parenting manuals. I’m tired and less patient, I’ve been parenting for 20 years and am kind of over sing ‘the wheels on the bus’.

I’m still a good mum though, I don’t need public recognition to know this. I know this because just this afternoon whilst snuggling on the sofa (nodding off whilst he watched Puffin Rock) my 3 year old cuddled up and said….

“You’re my best friend in the whole wide world mummy” 

Lauren Derrett

I'm Lauren, Founder of Wear 'em Out, reusable period pads for the empowered eco-curious. Mother of 4, Step-Mother of 2, I've been parenting for 24 years so have seen and learned a lot of stuff

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