Ain't Nothin' But a Number

The other day I had this exchange with one of the moms from Abby's pre school that I have been thinking about all week. Somehow we got on the subject of age and she said to me, " Don't tell me you are still in your 20s!".
Hmmm.
I know that I am often the youngest mom on the playground, and sometimes that makes me uncomfortable. For the most part, it has become my identity, and I am ok with that. Some of the older moms love me because I can identify with them but also explain who Gnarls Barkley is. The only real trouble I have is when I try to talk about what happened last night on Laguna Beach (not that I, ahem, watch that or anything). I get a lot of knowing looks that seem to say, "Oh, sweet stupid youth." I also get a lot of parenting advice because apparently I have not reached the magic age of reason that helps me be able to parent effectively. (Man I hate that! There is this one mom at the park, Whitney's mom, who tries to tell me how to do stuff. What the fuck, I have 2 kids, my oldest is older than her one and we have all survived. I can't be doing everything wrong. Can you tell we had a run in with her today?)
I guess I like being the youngest mom around here who does not have any dramatic back story about having a kid at 18, then having 3 more after she put herself through med school and found Prince Charming. I am comfortable in that I was happily married when Abby was conceived (ok, we were married for about 2 weeks, but hey they were happy weeks). I am comfortable with the "career" I had teaching before I had Abby. And I love staying home and being the youngest mom on the playground. Something about this was weird though. I am approaching my 29th birthday, and for as much fun as I have made of Tim for hyperventilating over turning 30 this year, I am now feeling a bit itchy about being 29. What happens when I am not the youngest mom on the playground? Who do I become then?
As I have been pondering this throughout our trip to the Art Institute today, I came across a blurb in the "Weekend Planner" in today's Trib. There are auditions this weekend for the next cast of MTV's Real World. They are looking for interesting people between the ages of 18 and 25. When did I leave the "interesting" demographic? Why are you uninteresting after 25? What happens? Did I miss something while I was giving birth at age 25? Why am I "too old" to be on a show that I religiously TiVo and try to get into every season? (This past one was just annoying with those whiny kids complaining about how the hurricanes were ruining "their experience"and talking shit, not even good shit, about eachother and just being mean. And that one girl, the anorexic, screaming "Kiss my ass" anytime anyone told her to eat a cheeseburger got really old)
Let me get this straight, I am too old to be on the Real World, but too young to be taken seriously in it?