It was a bustling moving day in the university town where I reside. Families from all corners of the country flocked to the city, picking up their children to take them home for the summer. Cube vans filled the streets, while nearby restaurants buzzed with parents treating their kids to a nice meal.
I decided to stop by a local bakery to grab some cookies. Of course, they weren’t for me. In an attempt to reassure the cashier, I exclaimed, “I’m such a great mom for buying my kids cookies!”
She smiled and replied, “Oh, that’s lovely! Are you moving your child off-campus?”
I was taken aback. Did she really think I was old enough to have college-aged children? With no option but to rush to my car and scrutinize myself in the rearview mirror, I pondered my appearance. I thought I looked decent—my outfit was fine, my hair was alright, I even applied moisturizer that morning. Did I really look that old? Wait. Was that a new wrinkle?
Just a few years back, I worked at the university. Walking through the campus, I never felt out of place among the students. It hadn’t been long since I was one of them, blending in seamlessly with the other co-eds. I confidently told my husband, “I’m trendy. I totally pass for a student.” (I realize that claiming to be trendy might suggest the opposite.)
My husband, however, was less kind. “You’re living in a fantasy,” he quipped.
Living in a college town brings its own set of contradictions. On one hand, being surrounded by young people allows you to tap into their youthful energy. College students are the ultimate trendsetters, so it’s easy to stay up-to-date with the latest in music, fashion, and technology. It feels invigorating. Yet, with each new semester, I notice the fresh faces appearing—faces that seem to get younger by the year. Many of them still wear braces!
While the students age down, I somehow remain the same. On an intellectual level, I know this isn’t true—I have a degree, after all. But being around these young adults creates the illusion that I’m still in that same stage of life. I still know what’s cool, look the part, and feel youthful. That is, until a cashier asks if I’m their mom.
Our first friends’ child is heading off to college next fall. How did our friends’ kids grow up so fast? Sure, it’s true they had kids while many of us were still navigating relationships, but it still feels surreal. Didn’t we just graduate not long ago?
My children are still young, but we’re at a point where they are closer to college than I am to my own graduation. We’re at that age where friends are professors—those who once partied with us are now the ones giving lectures and crafting syllabi.
This realization brings a significant cognitive dissonance (a term I learned in school) that’s challenging to reconcile. Managing the gap between how old I feel and my actual age is a lesson not taught. Ironically, the only way to learn it is through time—and maybe an occasional glance at oneself under harsh fluorescent lights.
I’ve considered going back to school myself. In what could be seen as the epitome of helicopter parenting disguised as self-improvement, I think about enrolling in college when my kids do. Maybe we could share some classes, stroll across campus together, and even have lunch. I’m sure they’d be thrilled about that. After all, I’m trendy, right? Or at least, I bring cookies.
If you’re curious about more on this topic, check out our post on the home insemination kit for further insights. Additionally, those interested in the journey of self-insemination might find Make a Mom’s resource helpful. For a deeper understanding of pregnancy and fertility, the CDC offers excellent resources.
In summary, living in a college town can be a whirlwind of youthful energy and self-reflection. It’s a place where the past and present collide, leaving you to grapple with the paradox of feeling young while witnessing the passage of time.