Do you ever find yourself getting lumped into a category that you don't feel you belong in?  Like in high school, when you weren't quite cool enough to be part of the preppy crowd, because you drank too much?  Or when you couldn't really say you were athletic because you were too lazy and smoked too much?  How obvious is it that I'm referring to myself right now?

When I was younger, I remember thinking that my mom was SO old.  Like really old, and so were all of the other moms on the block, in the park and at the school drop off.  Friggin' ancient, and super boring.  You know the ones, right.  Well, I just realized that not only am I one of those same moms now, but when I had M, I was five years older than my mom was when she had me!  Yessir, I am officially part of the Mom Crowd.

But seriously, how can that be right?  I don't feel like a spring chicken or anything, but there are mornings when I literally do a double take when I look in the mirror.  Who is that old hag with the crusty eye snot staring back at me?  And why does she look like she could fall asleep standing up like a horse?

Good morning, y'all!

There's also how others perceive me as now.  When we moved to the suburbs a few years ago, one of my Welcome Wagon gifts was a free consultation with a personal trainer.  I was so excited, M was just about a year old and I was ready to take a step towards improved health.  Let's just say the trainer had obviously lumped me into the category of middle aged housewife and really couldn't wait for me to leave her office.  I was furious of course, but ended up letting her categorization of me define who I was.  So silly in hindsight.

When I get a chance to head out on my own, without M in tow, it is glorious and peaceful.   I look so forward to going shopping on my own and being able to take my time.  But a peculiar thing has happened to me in the last few years: even when I'm alone without my son, I am invisible to most people.  It's as if I literally don't exist when I'm shopping and can't seem to find a sales clerk to save my life.  Meanwhile, the teenagers dressed like whores are getting helped and catered to, and it burns me for a few minutes.  But then I think about it, and remember that I used to get attention when I was younger too(although likely not when I was a teenager, since I so was awkward and always drunk), and it's all good.

"If someone doesn't pay attention to me in the next two minutes, I swear to God I'm gonna spend my $5 elsewhere"

Taking a step back and putting things in perspective has helped me realize that everything has come full circle now that I'm nearing the Big 4-0... and that's exactly how it's supposed to be.  Am I as wrinkle free and energetic as I was in my twenties?  No, but I've finally put down roots with my little family and feel content.  Can I stay out at the pub into the wee hours drinking cider and smoking du Mauriers?  No, but warm little arms wrap themselves around my legs every morning while an excited voice says "Good morning, Mummy!".

I'm invisible to some people, but I'm the center of my son's world.  Which is exactly as it should be.