Last week, I was picking The Daughter up from summer care. The woman, A, who keeps her during the summer is amazing, and I really appreciate her (and the very affordable rate she offers me!). She does a lot of nifty things with the children during the week, like the library and park, and one of her friends has a large in-ground pool in her back yard so at least once a week she takes the kiddos swimming there. I will meet them at the pool when I get off work and chitchat with her while The Daughter gets in some more swimming time (which, on a proud momma sidenote, she just started swimming this summer and is doing fantastically!). I have always been very open about my status as a young single mom and don’t try to hide the fact that I had The Daughter when I was still in high school… I look and sound younger than I am anyways so it’s probably in my best interest so that people don’t think I’m (gasp!) even younger than I am.
Anywho, we were talking some and my age came up and A goes, “Wait! So how old are you exactly?” And I said, “23… I’m almost exactly 17 years older than The Daughter.” She does some quick math and goes, “Ohmigosh, so I am you and you are The Daughter!” I must’ve had my confused squinchy face on, because she explained further: “You and I are exactly 17 years apart!” This sparked all kinds of interesting conversations about how The Daughter and I could biologically be pregnant at the same time (no thanks!) and how old I was going to be when she goes to college (35… eek, I need to get on that college savings stuff better). It was a fun conversation, I enjoy A a lot, but it also got me thinking that, especially as The Daughter and I grow up, there’s some neat things about being closer in age than most other mother/daughters…
1. I will be done “raising” The Daughter before I have even reached the big 4-0. A lot of times teen moms focus innately (or are encouraged to focus on) the fact that they’ve just forfeited the freedom of their youth. This is very true… but at the same time, I’m going to have empty-nest freedom while still being young enough to really enjoy it (not that people in their 50s don’t!), with the added bonus of having a lot more financial freedom than a 17 year old.
2. I have more energy as a young mom. It’s biology. On a sidenote though, I can’t imagine parenting any older because being a mom even as a teenager is exhausting!
3. There’s a higher probability that people will mistake The Daughter and I for sisters as she gets into high school and college than if I was an older mom… I’m sure she will hate that, but I’m sure I won’t.
4. This one relates specifically to my singleness… but… I don’t ever have to compromise when it comes to parenting. Making all the decisions can be challenging at times (no one to sound ideas off on except my graduate school-level, non-parenting friends who I love), but at the same time, what I say goes. I remember as a child if Mom said “no”, I would go ask Dad in hopes of the answer I desired. No such luck for The Daughter (which means I’m also the only one who gets wheedled and therefore the only one guilty of giving in). My word is law. Sort of. Sometimes. On occasions. I’m actually trying to think of a time, but its… just… not… coming… to… me. Sighs.
5. The Daughter and I have a very unique relationship because it’s “just the two of us.” While teenagers who get pregnant intentionally in hopes of achieving this dynamic can oftentimes be bitterly disappointed (let’s face it, babies don’t make very good sidekicks, they cry too much)… as The Daughter ages I enjoy our unique mother/daughter relationship that is fostered in part because I’m young and in part because it’s just she and I. I enjoy curling up in the oversized chair and reading a Roald Dahl book, or watching an episode of What Not To Wear (she likes Stacy better, according to what she told the saleslady in Banana Republic the other week while they were trying on jewelry whilst I was in the dressing room). I like that she is still young enough to not be embarassed to hold my hand in public or sleep in my bed sometimes and I love the conversations she holds up very well with me as she gets older. While I didn’t go into motherhood looking forward to these things (let’s not kid ourselves, I wasn’t even planning on going into motherhood at the time!), I can’t lie: I really enjoy The Daughter not only as my daughter… but as the nifty human being she is. I can only hope that we can continue to communicate this way into the tumultuous waters of puberty and adolescence. Scariness!
Of course I’m probably not supposed to, gasp!, admit that teenaged parenthood isn’t all tragedy, but… it’s not. I would never say there wasn’t a lot of sacrifice, re-arranging, and tears involved in the process of getting The Daughter and I to this point in (mostly) one piece, but here we are and even on the bad days, I can’t imagine our lives any other way…. and I wouldn’t really want to even if I could.
On a closing note, as I was titling this entry, I definitely started thinking of that Rat-a-Tat song called “Seventeen Years” and haven’t been able to stop singing it in my head. If you can even really sing a song that doesn’t have any words? Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo do. OK, I’m done.
I’ve been rappin’ for about 17 years, ok? I don’t write my stuff anymore, I just kick it from my head, ya know what I’m sayin’? I can do that, no disrespect, but that’s how I am.
(this is my favorite entry so far, by the way)
Good stuff.
#3… Classic