Welcome to Once Upon a Midlife!

Welcome to Once Upon a Midlife!

If you’re here, it probably means you are experiencing midlife, waxing nostalgic about midlife, or are curious about what midlife will be like when you get here.

Remember the fairy tales we were told as children? Cinderella, Rapunzel, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and all the others? Never did the heroine get old enough to have hot flashes. Never did her belly become a spare tire. Never did she look at life and think, “No one needs me anymore.”

Real-life middle age is a fractured version of those fairy tales. In our stories, we age — if we’re lucky. And aging isn’t for wimps.

How do you know your fridge is going through menopause?
It’s all out of eggs.

upjoke.com

It’s been more than a decade since I published a blog. A LOT of birthdays have happened since then, but I couldn’t shake the nagging urge to write about life, with all its twists and turns.

My kids were little back when I gave up my blog, but they are all full grown and out of the house now. You’d think I’d have more time to write — and I do, for my day job. But it has been nearly a decade since I have published anything of my own. I had to make it a priority. With the last kid out of the house, I forced myself to think of me and view writing as self-care.

And that was more difficult than you know.

Anyone who tells you that your children don’t need you as much the older they get has little kids and a delusional sense of the future. Sure…you don’t have to do as much for them physically. They can bathe themselves, feed themselves and (hopefully) use the bathroom by themselves. But, in some ways, they need you MORE than they did when you had to assist with those basic tasks.

As our kids get older, their problems become more complicated. They need guidance from a variety of trusted sources, but primarily their parents. Like theater staff, we wait in the wings until someone yells “LINE!”

But also, as they grow older, we misinterpret the decline in needing us physically as a decline in needing us at all. We have more freedom, sure. And so do they. But they are adults in training, and even the most mature of the bunch looks to the sidelines for a nod now and then.

This is the stage I find myself in at this point in my life. I’m in my 50s. My kids are in their 20s. Several of them are married and one has a baby of his own (who shall be known from here forward as Jellybean). They impress me every day with how mature, independent, resourceful and resilient they are. And while I don’t talk to them every day, I know that being available and approachable to them — for advice or just to listen — is as critical to this stage of their development as asking them how their day was when they got off the school bus.

In today’s economy, many of our adult children can’t afford to live on their own or choose to live at home with the ‘rents while they save up for first/last months’ rent and a deposit or for a downpayment. This means some of us are still doing the physical work of having a fuller household. It’s not good or bad. It just is what it is.

And what it contributes to is a feeling of confusion about where we fit in right now. How much do we do for our kids if they live at home? Should you treat them as renters? How will it affect your empty nest agenda?

Despite people offering unsolicited advice, you have to do what is right for your family.

And that’s the bottom line. You have to do what is right for you. Same goes for middle age.

I have friends who were stay-at-home moms who still choose not to join the mainstream workforce. It’s not that they can’t. They just don’t need to or want to. And they aren’t wealthy. They’ve made choices about how much they want or need in their lives and have adjusted to allow themselves the freedom to not clock in somewhere.

I have friends who put their children in daycare as soon as their maternity or paternity leave was over. Some had no choice — they had to work outside the home. Others did have a choice and, just like those who chose not to work, did what was right for their families. I stayed home with my kids for 15 years until I had to get a paying job. But that was always my intent anyway. I kept telling myself, “I’ll go back when the youngest doesn’t need me.”

But I’m still needed. I’m needed at home, I’m needed by my children who live around the country, and I’m needed at work and by the organizations for which I volunteer.

You are needed too. I’m referring to your family, friends and employers, yes, but guess who needs you the most?

YOU!

My former mother-in-law, who I first met when I was 16, used to say, “You might as well just put me out to pasture now that all of you are grown up.” It’s tragic that she felt that way.

In between those texts and calls from your kids asking for money, asking you to babysit, or just checking in, you need your attention. You need to spend time on yourself.

Ultimately, that’s what this blog is about. Taking a few minutes to read the latest blog post is you giving yourself access to a connection with me, with others like us and with yourself. Hopefully, this will be meaningful. Or maybe it will just be a nice distraction.

Either way, I’ll write and I’ll post because I need to do it for myself. Join me whenever you need to. I’ll be here.

In the meantime, I could use your help. (See, even I need you.)

Email me ideas for things you’d like to see me discuss here.

New product targeted at our demographic that you’ve been wanting to try?

Struggling with something and you want another opinion? (Dear Kim…)

Wondering how to downsize, travel or even stay healthy at our age?

If I don’t have an answer, I will find one. Many of us are experts in something and I welcome the occasional guest blog post.

I plan to post at least every week. Soon, I will offer additional features such as informational products, a newsletter and more.

Until then…be good to yourself. And I’ll try to take my own advice.

-Kim

Kimberly Wirtz

Kimberly Wirtz

Mother of seven and dog mom to two St. Bernards. Navigating midlife -- the aches, the pains, the creaks, the groans...and the joy of seeing your family blossom. Feeling the increasing speed of the passing of time as my children have children. And needing to make sense of the nonsense before my time is up. Viva la middle age!

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