I wish I were older

I have been wanting, longing to be older than 23 (now 24) since we moved to Katy.

We picked our house because it was the nicest house we could afford in the nicest part of town. This means that there are very few others in our ward in the same position as us: newly (2 years) married, young babies, first job post-undergrad degree, early 20's.

I am not complaining that Danny picked such a booming field, got multiple job offers, and it doesn't require a master's degree to receive a good salary. Uh, duh, of course I'm not. These are huge blessings in our lives!

I just wish I were about half a decade older.

So, I don't think I've ever blogged about my quilting group, but here is an example of a time when it felt especially difficult being 24. Every week, I go to a quilting group of some of the ladies in my stake. Most of them are somewhere in their 50's (they were talking about how old they were, I'm not just guessing), the closest in age to me is 36. Please don't think I'm calling them old, because if I had to pick a word to describe these people, that would not be it. Old is tired and boring, and these people are energetic, witty, gabby, and hilarious. I feel like I "fit in" with this group for lots of reasons: love of quilting, experience travelling and living abroad, but mostly we share the same balance of really loving domestic things (cooking, canning, sewing, quilting, children, etc.) whilst really not being submissive, lowly housewives. Which I'm not sure exist, but that's for another blog post.

I would say that going to the quilting group is one of the highlights of my week. Usually I just sit and listen to what everybody else is saying. Yesterday I mentioned that I was an exchange student in France when I was in High School. Somebody asked what year that was, and when I said '02-03, there was a huge reaction. I mean, I'm pretty positive everybody knows that I'm two to three decades younger than them, like it's not some big secret, but announcing what year was my junior year opened the gateway for the verbalization of many of the thoughts I've been having for the past year or so since we've been here: "Oh man, I bet you think we're a bunch of old fogies!" "Well, just remember what you used to think when you were that age; I remember thinking thirty five is SO OLD!" "I'm pretty much old enough to be your mother! And then some!"

It actually felt great that somebody would acknowledge that I am really young. I think it's because of my birth order; I am the oldest daughter in my family. I was the first to leave home, at the age of 15, to spend a year in France. I'm a lot more used to the "oldest" mentality. It took some serious adjusting when I married Danny and became the youngest sister (in-law...whatever, they're like sisters).

It's good for me to be on the young side because it helps me listen better. I'm SO glad I go to my quilting group because I really struggle with having compassion for others, and nearly every week there is some other story about health problems that I had never, ever, ever, ever considered before. I love that there are so many wonderful, capable, strong women in my ward in their late 20's-30's-40's with kids the same age as mine, because I can go to them for really excellent advice and help.

It doesn't feel like I'm quilting with my mom, or my mother in law. I don't think most of the quilting ladies work, and my mom does - Elementary Art. I know this "keeps her young." Also, my mother in law has a nine year old at home. She has several friend groups, including one that is 20ish years younger than her!

She says that age doesn't really matter when you're an adult. I know it shouldn't, and I know it's not other people; I just need to find a way to get over feeling different from everybody because I'm so young. In a few years, it's not going to matter. Why should it matter now, really?

Another reason I love to listen to the quilting ladies: eventually, talking about age, they all unanimously agreed that being an Empty Nester is the best stage of life. I had never thought about that either, and it was really interesting, and actually quite a relief. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, up to my ears in childcare. Sometimes it's painful to think how time is slipping away, how I will never see my Jane as a tiny baby again. It's so nice to know that there's so much to look forward to. These women are some of the happiest people I know. When I get there, I want to be just like them.

Blogging about this helps me feel a little better about things. I still wish I were older, so I would have a less difficult time fitting in.