A while ago I had occasion to interact with a lady who has one child, a two-year-old. She is radiant and beautiful and bouyant and charming and stylish. She is obviously younger than I am, even though I know technically she has two or three years on me. Why do five kids make me older than she is? I don't know, but they do.
The pressures on the young were ones under which I never bore up well, so it's just as well. It is much easier to be a slouchy mother of five than a young female with her necessarily included anxieties. My actual age is, comparatively, irrelevant. My age is "I have five kids."