I pretty much read any article I come across about older motherhood, so this one in my local paper of course caught my eye:
It all hit home to me. It is the story mom Julie Morris (a new mom at 41) and daughter Maggie Fisher, fast-forwarded to 18 years later. Maggie’s father, 71 when Maggie was born, died when she was still a little girl. The writer says:
“It made Morris consider her own mortality, too, and raise it with Maggie. “When she was 10, I had to sit down with her and ask, ‘If anything happens to me, what would you like to happen to you,’ It was a pretty hard moment for her.” Oh, my death fears. Don’t get me started.
While 2012 seems to be year to scoff at resolution-making, I was at the gym yesterday with renewed determination, pedaling away in the hopes of living long enough to play with my grandchildren.
But the article was also affirming:
“Their experience raising Maggie reflected the findings of a recent study of 15,000 families by researchers at Indiana University. It found that older parents enroll their kids in more activities, save more for university tuition, and tend to be more involved. While less physically active, Morris and Fisher ensured Maggie did everything from sports leagues to summer camp.”
I am an involved, enthusiastic parent. My three year old has taken every imaginable sort of class, from trampoline to pottery, neither of which worked, to art and skating, both of which did. I swim with both of my kids, and skate with the three year old. We are members at the zoo and science center. We also love lazy days at home, reading and picnicing with play food and painting. For us, having an older mother means I’m not wishing I was somewhere else more exciting. This is what I want to be doing.
What about you? Are you more likely to see the costs of older motherhood, or the benefits?