April 23, 2005 9:17 AM
Birthday reflections from a Mommy-Come-Lately
Mommy, how old are you?" my youngest daughter Madeleine asks me every now and then. I always get the feeling she's worried – kind of like me rummaging through the fridge and finding a package of pork chops dated a few days ago.
And Madeleine worried is truly something to give one pause. Because Maddy is the most consistently cheerful, upbeat, and enthusiastic person I've ever met.
"I'm fifty-six, sweetheart," I reply casually, as though it's just the most normal thing for a woman who a century ago might have been already a memory to even dream of making memories with her children for many years to come.
It's not that I got a late start. My first daughters, Samantha Sunshine and Jasmine Moondance, were born in 1969 and 1975 respectively – like bookends to my intensely political antiwar and radical feminist years in Washington, D.C. Shortly before Jasmine came along I had moved to San Francisco for a little personal R&R, which rather quickly slid into serious countercultural decline.
By the time I met and married Tripp in 1983, I was ready for a normal family. Though topping out at 12 kids – Sam and Jazz, seven on our own steam and three by the miracle of adoption – our family would prove to be not very normal after all.
Maddy was Number Nine, born barely a year after Jonny, our son with Down syndrome. She is what we call "normal," if you consider a toddler who could belt out songs like Ethel Merman to be normal. For years we called her "the voice heard 'round the world," before ever realizing that her birthday, April 19, was actually the anniversary of the Lexington and Concord, memorialized as “the shot heard. . . ”
I guess sometimes people think I'm her grandmother, but these days it's hard to tell, what with so many graying new moms who let their biological clocks keep ticking until seconds before the final alarm. Now we’re all sitting at back-to-school night in those teensy-tiny chairs surrounded by parents young enough to be our children too.
And finally, there's another contingent of mommy-come-latelies – not because they were megamoms or late bloomers, but because when their own children had children and blew it, these good women stepped into the breech. I hope they too find hope, healing, and rejuvenation – the unexpected benefits package that comes from spending time with kids.
Yes, many days I feel way too old for the job of mommy. That’s when you’ll hear me muttering, “What exactly did you have in mind, God?” I mean, at my age, most women are tidying up their empty nests, going out to lunch, and getting a pedicure. If the grandchildren come over for a day, they take a week to recover.
Me, I don’t have that kind of down time. But the trade off is someone like Maddy, who for twelve years has filled our house with song and laughter, and made my journey into middle age so much more rewarding than it might have been without her.
Happy Birthday, Maddy!
This weekend, Maddy is appearing as Dorothy in her middle school production of The Wizard of Oz. Just hearing her sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" makes me glad I didn't stop at five, six, seven or eight!
Posted in Mothering | Permalink
Comments
Happy birthday to her (and happy birth day to you)! I'd love to hear her belt out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"!
Posted by: Mel | April 23, 2005 9:50 PM
That was the single most refreshing thing I've read on mothering in so long I can't remember. What a joy to hear from a woman who loves her children. Such a rarity today.
Posted by: Sara | April 25, 2005 12:55 AM
You have been richly blessed.
Posted by: Julana S. | April 25, 2005 9:38 AM
