Aging out of the neighborhood baby boomlet

Now that it is not crazy cold, I have a few minutes to stop and chat with my neighbors. At least three of them are pregnant, so that is exciting.

Except I feel so removed from those days I might as well be grandma.

I have lived in my Northern Virginia neighborhood for 13 years. We moved here when my son was 10 months old. There were a bunch of new babies on the block too, followed by a crop of siblings about two years later. I think there were seven born in the spring/summer of 1999. Seven!

Since then, some of those families had a third child and moved to bigger homes. New people moved in. New babies were born. You could chart the neighborhood baby boom right along with the housing boom. Newlyweds moved in, baby showed up, home value shot up, baby turned one - time to cash in and move to the house with the three-car garage.

The original (well, from when we moved in) babies turned into kids and then teens. The housing boom slowed, and families are sticking around. Now those babies are growing up and families are expanding but finding a way to make a three-bedroom, 2,400-square-foot house work.

But this isn't a post about housing. In my world these days, these neighbors are the only friends of mine participating in the baby boom. Mostly everyone else I know is over 40 and those days are done.

For so many years, it was a whirl of baby showers and presents and swapping of maternity clothes. There was that run of those second babies and then, for some friends, third babies. I had another group of buddies who started families later, so there was their run of babies and second babies. Then the requests of "can I borrow your baby swing?" slowed to a trickle.

Then there was a run of "surprise" babies! I have a couple of friends who had 8-10 years between their second and third children. So that was fun. We threw one friend a baby shower and all commented on how much cuter the baby clothes were now than a decade ago. Someone gave my friend one of those fleecy sleeping bag things that zip on to an infant car seat; that prompted clucks of "what will they think of next?!" from the guests, mostly moms of middle schoolers by then.

Really, ladies, it wasn't THAT long ago (but those covers really are genius).

Anyway, a year or so has gone by, and except for the neighbors - all of whom are at least a dozen years younger than me - I cannot think of one single friend who would be having another baby. Not even a surprise baby. That makes me feel a little....old.

So I will go shopping for some gifts and marvel at how Target has co-opted the earthy colors of the Baby Gap line and remark how I wish the Boppy came with a removable, washable cover when my (now 5-foot-5 son) was spitting up.

As long as I am out, unencumbered by a big diaper bag and squirming little ones, I think I will call my neighbor and see if she needs anything.

Original D.C. Metro Moms post

Karen lives with her husband and teenage son in Northern Virginia and writes about life at Snarkshelf.com.