Old Balls

You know you're A) old and B) on a college campus when you are breastfeeding your baby, drop the pacifier positioned perilously on the stroller, and more than a dozen students make the effort to step over the pink elephant Soothie without offering to pick it up for you. Needless to say, I'm left to scramble to maintain my baby's latch while reaching for the Soothie without exposing myself to unsuspecting freshmen in their dorm's dining hall. And then silently wondering what has come of 'kids today.'

Alex, Francie and I spent the day at OSU for an alumni soccer game. Several of his old teammates came into town for the annual fundraising game they play against the current team. Alex was apprehensive about being "old balls" (fat, aged, and downright out of shape) knowing that he's more than a decade more mature than the current players. But upon arrival we saw alumni from the 1970s. Perfect, he wouldnt be the slowest on the field, afterall. Turns out he scored one of the alum's two goals and assisted in the other, so either he's lucky or he's not as unfit as he feared.

Being back on a college campus was strange. It's been well over a year since I took classes at UO and have since forgotten what university life entails. As for my age, I look and feel the same as I always have; when I look in the mirror I'm still relatively pleased with the age of my reflection (as long as my dad's face isn't staring back at me already then I am all good). But when I'm surrounded by 18-22 year olds (let's face it, they're kids, seriously, just fresh out of their nest), I feel and think and act like I'm 30 going on 70. "Pull your shorts up young man," or, "You should be eating veggies with that pizza, breadsticks and French fries," I think to myself.

On the other hand I'd like to believe that I might be mistaken for a college student. But I think the stroller, my diaper-bag-slash-backpack, my "skinny" maternity jeans, and my overall demeanor reveal my age - having already completed rather than beginning my third decade of life.

Alex and I reflected back on our college experiences (VERY different) - he mostly recounted the debaucherous misadventures of his soccer crew for the millionth time. I had a very fulfilling time during college, but I was grateful today that I don't look upon the current students with envy, like I wish I could go back to that time. Truthfully, I think life gets better with age. Sure, I have more responsibilities and less free time, but I have more wisdom, experience, self assurance, and stability. Which is what I need for where I'm at now. So yeah, I'd kill to have the 20-year-old ass of those stretchy-pant-wearing co-eds. But I think I might like being "old balls" if that means I get to be Alex's wife and Francie's mama. Petunia Picklebottom bag and mom jeans included.


P.S. Are black socks with shorts the new trend for guys? And when did they make female workout clothes so damned skimpy!?!

Francie "watching" the game.