When I gave birth to my kids I dreamed of being the cool mom. I had a cool mom growing up so I felt like she had given me the invisible bible on playing it smooth for eighteen years. I quickly realized how long it took to raise an actual human being and that I wasn't the laid back, sweet person my mother was. Raising kids was going to be a bit more lively and lot less patient at my house.
I also ended giving birth to my twin aka MINI-ME which makes parenting a challenge, its like marrying yourself. No one thinks that's a good idea. My daughter is the smartest, most artistic human being on the planet. She is also like her mama and has a sass mouth, wants to fit in with the crowd, and gets upset directly after proclaiming this to be the best day ever created. I don't know how that shit is passed on but Miss Girly Pants has been rockin' her bad self for 10 years and there is no possible way I could claim she wasn't mine.
I haven't quizzed my kids about who the coolest mom is, but we have our good days and our bad days. It could really go either way. The good days include me getting up in time to pack lunches, wash underwear and make a great joke in front of their friends. Bad days include me screaming in the car to "put your freakin' seat belt on before I lose it", having to hold my son's door shut during a massive meltdown, and being the mom who says no about the sleepover in front of the friend. Being the good guy is a full time job and not always possible. I had no fucking clue what I was getting into when my belly grew the size of a watermelon.
As I get older, I feel less inclined to care if I am cool or not. I am sure any woman who has made it through her 20's can attest to feeling a little less like the crowd and a little more like herself. Well, myself is loud and obnoxious. She is also proud of her kids and would rather get them to school happy then wear proper attire to drive there. It's also a great excuse to drive around town in pj's. I have come to feel more comfortable saying no and happier when I get to say yes. I have also realized the joy in being an embarrassment.
While I did have the cool mom, I also had the embarrassing dad. Anyone who knew me as a kid can attest to this. He used to get out of the tub in the middle of the afternoon and scream "Superman!!!". This would be followed up by a naked man, my dad, with a towel wrapped around his neck running through the front room, floor to ceiling windows open to the world. He was a maniac. His favorite thing was to pull his trucker hat down really far on his head and make a weird fucking face, like a wrinkled Elmer Fudd. He would pull this stunt while picking us up from school or at a family dinner out. As a kid, I couldn't stand the thought of being embarrassed in front of anyone. I wanted perfect strangers to be clear that I was not a part of this nonsense. Now, I am this nonsense.
I took a page out of my pops playbook last month. My brilliant baby girl was being awarded a medal for one of her projects. It was a big deal. By the time she was up, most of the room had emptied from the families who had taken their awards and bailed. I didn't want any person left in that lunchroom to miss out on my favorite girl getting her well deserved prize. So when her name was called I screamed and hooted and hollered at the top of my lungs. I had never felt so free, so happy, so much like a parent in my life. She rolled her eyes and begged me to stop and that's when I knew....I was the cool mom.
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