I’m an ancient mummy. I’ll be 54 when Sprog 1 comes of age. Jean Kittson has written a very funny article on the subject, called The Curse of the Ancient Mummy (http://thehoopla.com.au/curse-ancient-mummy/). It bemoans the drawbacks of being an older mother. Jean reckons it’s prevented her bonding with all the other, younger school mums. She’s obviously living in the wrong suburb. Head to Sydney’s north shore, Jean, you’ll be surrounded by ancient mummies. Our local infants school could give Tutankahmun’s tomb – pre-grave robbers – a run for its money. When I was on canteen duty last week, the hot topic(ironically) was hot flushes. As we rolled up the canteen windows for lunch service, mums of third graders were discussing their march into menopause. It was a little confronting (especially for the little people lined up for their hot dogs). On the other hand, I wouldn’t know how to make idle chit-chat with a 25-year-old mummy in the playground, I’d feel like David Attenborough discovering a new species: “These strange, smooth-faced creatures give birth when they’re barely out of school themselves.” And I’m sure they’d feel the same way about me. In my early 20s, workmates in their 30s seemed so scary and mature. They’d invite me to office lunches and I’d be petrified. Friends in their 40s? Beyond comprehension? Nowadays however, conversation with the older crowd flows easily. Wrinkles, root canal, Kevin Bacon’s wattle, bad backs, 50th birthday plans … one mum is renting a chateau in France for her birthday and invite all her friends to drop by. I’m so there. The Sprogs aren’t bothered by their ancient mummy because all the other mummies are ancient too. They don’t know any better. They’re blissfully unaware of how much patience and energy a younger mummy might possess. But I am slightly worried about the dessicated granny that’s hiding inside every ancient mummy. If Sprog 1 waits until she’s 35 to get pregnant (like I did), I’ll be 70 when she pops her first one out. That’ll make me 75 when they start school. I’ll be dead before they even hit their teens. Maybe I am cursed after all.
TONIGHT’S MENU: I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m making my own mango pickle to have with lamb racks and coconut gravy. Way too complicated for mid-week.
housegoeshome 
being 1 of the only 3 kids in our year at high school with an absolutely ancient mummy, i felt like i was from a different planet… but… i have been both now – normal age with the bozo, & ‘ancient’ with the monster & feral & we have a mix of mothers ages (including a couple in their teens with kids in kinder) at our school & i dont think my younger pair r affected by it as i was…
I don’t recall being bothered by your parents’ ages at all – I didn’t really think about it.
their attitude was embarassing… that i wasnt allowed on overnite excursions after camp toukely (oh camp toukley, with u i want 2 stay… my memories will linger, until my dying day…. buahahahhaa)… that i wasnt allowed 2 school dances until year 9… that i wasnt allowed 2 go 2 katherines, as they hadnt met her parents… vowed never 2 do that 2 my kids!!!!
Ah yes, I’d forgotten all that stuff.
All parents seem old to a little person, whether they are 25 or 55. I remember thinking 40 was REALLY old, funny cos that’s when I had my bub.
I do worry that when my cherub is starting her periods I’ll be dealing with menopause (husband announced at that point he will move to the shed for a while).
Then I thought about my parents and they never seemed like people to me,
they were ‘parents’. Completely different species so age was always irrelevant, hehe.
Bring on the menopause I say. At least you will finally get rid of the bane of most womens lives, whilst the young mummies can look forward to another 20+ years of cramps, headaches, mood swings and buying tampons. The whole menstrual cycle has been completely waisted on me for the past 30 years … I’m looking forward to the hot flushes (although my ex thought I was going through menopause every week, hehe).