You know, I wonder if my kids will thank me or curse me when they're old enough to figure out I'm biologically old enough to be their Grandmother. The last time I was instantly turned into an "older mom" was when the girls (9 and 7) and I were at Mervyn's. We were looking for some good Summer clothes and there was another little girl, probably about 8, with her mom. As the girl was scanning the shorts in her section, her mom was eyeing the lingere. I'm embarrassed to say that, well... I was embarrassed. For me? For the mom? For the 8 year old?

Don't get me wrong here. I've not shriviled up and given up on romance. I'm not forgetting my name (on most days). I can still run, jump, play and dance with my girls. But, somehow, the picture of this not-even-thinking-about-thirty-yet perfectly fit mom-should-be-her-baby-sitter eyeing the lingere just got me. How does she do it? If I were 20 years younger could I fit in aerobics, celery and still get to PTA and soccer practice? Or, is it because I'm older that I just have different priorities?

Kids these days having kids.