Because I was so young when I had my first set of kids, most of my contemporaries then were childless. Although there were a few of us caught in the pre-available-contraception web, most of my friends didn't start having children until mine were heading toward the tween years.

My circumstance set me apart, and my twenties were tough. While others worried about finals and getting into the classes needed to satisfy a degree program, then began the climb up corporate ladders, I struggled to get myself and my kids ready for work/school every morning, pay babysitters, and keep a roof over our heads. Hanging out in coffee shops discussing the motivation of favorite authors or the historical significance of ancient radicals was not an option for me, and even the most casual conversation with anyone over three-feet tall that didn't include any reference to Fisher-Price was like a little slice of heaven.

Parenting now puts me once again in the minority in my social group. The age range of friends now is wider than it used to be, and any gathering is likely to include twenty-somethings as often as over-fifties, but the kidless outnumber those that come complete with rugrats by a wide margin.

Although there are a few who are hoping to have children in the future, most have committed to a life without kids, and for many it's too late for any change in plan.

Unlike the first time around, though, having a four-year-old and an almost two-year-old is not isolating now. In fact, my kids are a bit of a magnet for company.

Friends planning to parent tend to use Sam and Cj as practice, and toting one while getting a detailed explanation of the difference between dinosaurs from the other seems a good way to spend an evening.

Some whose kids are grown and gone get a bit misty-eyed playing with mine as they remember back over the years that have flown so fast.

Those who purposely and permanently missed the kid boat enjoy them as well, although how much of that enjoyment comes from any reinforcement they may get from knowing they made a good choice, they don't say. Some do seem, however, to be filling some need in themselves. Whether that be passing along wisdom and influence, getting a good laugh from silly kid stuff, or marveling up close at how amazing little people can be, I don't know, but there is something.

Surprisingly, I get very little of the, 'you must be crazy' stuff from those who know us. In fact, without exception every friend I have sees the kids as positive additions to my life and lifestyle. The fact that I don't have the energy ... or desire ... to dance until dawn or party 'til I puke or spend my money on shoes and botox injections no longer sets me apart like my lack of availability did thirty years ago.

At twenty-five,with a seven-year-old and a five-year-old, almost everything about my life separated me from my peers. At fifty-five, with a four-year-old and a two-year-old, I fit right in, even with my kids.

Now, is this the case because my friends are older, that times have changed, or am I that different a person?