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I Refuse to Be the Old Woman Who Says, ‘It Goes So Fast’
As I approach middle age, the thought of wearing granny panties brings me both comfort and a twinge of dread—am I really just a few years away from needing Meals on Wheels? It’s a fitting metaphor for aging in general: a mix of excitement and trepidation.
You might think there’s nothing thrilling about growing older, but have you spent time with seniors lately? They no longer face the pressure to volunteer for every school event, and they can stroll along at their own pace without judgment. No one expects them to mow lawns or whip up dinner every night, and they certainly don’t have to hit the gym or squeeze into a swimsuit. In many ways, aging offers some delightful freedoms.
I firmly believe that aging is all about mindset, and I aspire to be a fabulous old lady. Picture me in a wide-brimmed hat, speaking my mind, and discussing topics that make others blush—like my lady parts—without a second thought. Embracing the idea of growing old feels liberating, and I’m looking forward to it.
However, there’s one type of old lady I refuse to become. I won’t be the one who tells a young mom to “put a coat on that child!” or “cherish every moment because it goes by so fast.” No way. Instead, I’ll share my own parenting tales, like the time my toddler sent an entire display of movies crashing to the ground at Target or when my kids loudly questioned my grooming habits in a public restroom.
When I see a new mom, I won’t tell her to treasure every moment. Instead, I’ll suggest she grab her favorite treat at the store and sneak away to enjoy it in peace because, let’s be honest, parenting is one of the toughest jobs out there. I’ll also remind her that she’s doing far better than she gives herself credit for.
I vow to be the old lady who steps in to help a young mom struggling at the grocery store, whether that means buying her groceries or simply offering a kind word. I’ll be the one who whispers encouragement when a young mom is about to lose it, or makes goofy faces to amuse her fussy baby. I’ll even let her skip ahead in line because, honestly, I’m not in any rush.
If I’m in a restaurant and see a young mom trying to manage her rowdy kids, I’ll take the initiative to treat her to dinner without any unsolicited advice on keeping them seated. Instead, I’ll leave a note for her server, acknowledging how well her little ones behaved, even if they were a handful.
I’ll be that sweet old lady who always has candy on hand for the neighborhood kids and doesn’t mind if they play in my yard. I’ll wear whatever I like, and I’ll be the one who speaks the truth without judgment. I won’t call out a mom for her unwashed hair or the spit-up stains on her shirt. Instead, I’ll compliment her on her unique style even if we both know she hasn’t slept in days.
If I know her well enough, I’ll offer to babysit while she runs errands or bring her soup when the kids are sick. I won’t criticize if her kids are sockless in winter or sporting dirty faces. When I see a frazzled young mom, I’ll smile and reassure her that she’s doing an amazing job.
And I won’t utter the phrase “it goes so fast.” I know that would just add to her guilt when she’s already feeling overwhelmed, even though she’s actually doing wonderfully. I’m making this commitment now so that I never forget how hard parenting can be, how isolating it sometimes feels, and how desperately I’d want support from those who have walked this path before.
In the end, I might throw in a hug and remind her that everything will be okay. Because it truly will.