This morning I was thinking about my parents. Specifically, their ages. When I was born, my dad was 23 years old, and Mom was 22.
Weird.
I guess that the bulk of my formative years started when they were both around 30. The vast majority of my memories of them came from times when they were younger than I am right now.
Weirder.
Now, I know people who, right now, are parents around the age of 30. And they can barely manage their own lives. I don't see how they're supposed to be able to raise children when they can't even get their own shit together.
Hell, I know people in their late 30s with kids they have no business raising. And I know a lot more people who don't have any kids but they act like kids themselves. Immature and selfish and whiny and so full of a sense of entitlement that it makes me sick.
I was going somewhere with this. I really was. Just got a touch of writer's block at the moment.
"And I know a lot more people who don't have any kids but they act like kids themselves. Immature and selfish and whiny and so full of a sense of entitlement that it makes me sick."
Combine that with the ages 19 and 23 with a child each and you have my two younger sisters in a nutshell.
posted by: NakedGirl | January 10, 2011 1:26 PM
Oh, I forgot to mention that I vividly remember my mom's 29th birthday. She was inside the house, frosting the birthday cake that she made for herself, while my dad took me (age 6) and my two sisters (age 4 & 3 months) outside to keep us occupied.
As someone who always imagined myself married with at least one kid by now, if not two, it's very strange to think that I likely won't be having any at all until I'm as old as my mom was when she was frosting that cake.
posted by: NakedGirl | January 10, 2011 1:29 PM
For a couple of years, I felt like I was on-track with the whole family thing. I went off-track about 20 years ago. I've been trying to get back on ever since.
posted by: dave | January 10, 2011 1:35 PM