Why so young?

I know. It sounds very strange that I am a grandmother of four at the ripe old age of thirty-seven. Let me assure you that I am not a medical marvel, a freak of nature, nor was I a preteen mother. I married into this position. My husband, Ken, is twenty-one years my senior. In our case, the age difference works for us. I have always been called wise beyond my years and he often has the sense of humor of a twelve year old so after being together for eleven years (five shacking up, six married), we have achieved a happy marital balance. Ken is the father of two daughters a couple of years younger than myself. That was their only criteria they had regrading their father's love life, that his girlfriends or brides be older than they. The girls, Rachel and Theresa have two children apiece. Rachel lives in Oregon. She had Madeline, a beautiful seventeen year old who was raised by her paternal grandparents, when she was eighteen. Rachel also has a son, Asher, who is five. He resides with his biological maternal grandmother in Nevada.Theresa and her little family recently emigrated from Germany to Massachusetts. She, along with her adorable Bavarian husband and twin daughters, Ellie and Lucy, age two now live exactly one mile from our house.

I never had any interest in having children. I realized this at an early age. Never liked playing with dolls, never played house pretending to have a doting husband and children. I'm the youngest child so I never had the experience of watching younger siblings. Anyways, I despised babysitting. I only did it two times. I use to watch a three year old boy across the street when I was thirteen. Changing his diaper terrified me. I was so afraid I would accidentally brush against his tiny penis that I flat out refused to change him. In disdain or pain, not sure which, he would take off his own diaper and run around naked. I was okay with that. Anything but having to actually come in physical contact with it. After the first time his parents came home to a very soggy fella but when his parents came home and saw him peeing on the kitchen floor while I was obliviously watching TV the second, I was promptly fired. I was relieved and I'm sure the little boy was as well.

Now I have two little ones running around my house a couple times a week under my care. I have mixed feelings about this predicament. On one hand it's great. The twins are entertaining and very sweet. On the other hand is the chaos they represent. In this blog, I want to share how I am coping with this new lifestyle. I have been inadvertently initiated into The MotherHood; BabyLand if you prefer, two milestones I have been trying to avoid for twenty years and now it is thrust upon me by close proximity. I am truly embarking on a new journey, experiencing a new stage in my life. I don't know what will happen but it's sure to be an interesting ride.