Not Cool
I always wanted to be the cool mom. Somewhere deep inside me I knew that this wasn't possible. It's just not in my genetic make up. I am, after all, from a family who drove matching giant diesel (way before diesel was cool, think clouds of black smoke) Oldsmobiles. 1 pink, 1 blue, no shit. To protect the pastel paint and whitewall tires, they were fully equipped with CURB FEELERS. Do you know what we stuffed my father's stocking with? Pocket protectors. Yeah. I feel like calling my mom to ask her to drop me off two blocks from school just thinking about it. My dad got stuck somehow in 1959 and never made it out.
Enough about them and how uncool they are, lets talk about me and how uncool I am. Ahem. So tonight, after spending my day trying to wade through a major shitstorm that life has dealt me, no one felt like cooking and so off we went in attempt to cure our blues with a soothing cheeseburger and fries. As I inhaled my dinner, I looked around and saw some young people having fun and I remembered being them 15 years ago. I took a hard look at myself and realized that I had become that woman that I swore I would never be because really is it that hard to keep that baby's nose wiped and seriously, what kind of person shoves their screaming child's face full of french fries just to shut them up. Good Gawd. And did you just, like, not notice the applesauce all over your sweater? Buy a mirror, get a clue, lady. As we were finishing our meal, Goldie started noticing the faux 'presents' that were out as decorations and she lost her damn mind. "Happy Birthday?" she asked. "No, baby, those are just for pretend. "But I WANT HAPPY BIRTHDAY." Holy fuckerini, I have to get out of here. As I snatched up my convulsing toddler I saw a man, middle aged, glaring at me and he shot me a look so dirty that I needed a shower (in addition to the dirty I was before the look). I can't believe that people could be so hateful. I mean, we were at Red Robin, not Spago asshole. Did you not notice the balloons as you walked in?
I also have become a Puritan in regards to my children. I am definitely the friend you would come to if you are having some sort of sex crisis or malfunction in your Lady Garden, because I am all about getting up in your business regarding your, you know, business. That said, I am the complete opposite where my children are concerned. I will NOT be the neighborhood cool mom who will have a bowl of condoms on the table next to the Cheetos. I just freak out at the thought. They can learn about this stuff when they are 14 the same place I did, from drunk 19 year olds that wanted to get in my pants. I think I just hyperventilated a little. I have not even given her a name for her um, private area and was totally at a loss as what to say when an issue came up regarding what parts of our body we DO NOT TOUCH AT THE TABLE. I just told her that you should only touch that area in private. When I'm dead.
Oh my God I am not ready for this stuff.
Enough about them and how uncool they are, lets talk about me and how uncool I am. Ahem. So tonight, after spending my day trying to wade through a major shitstorm that life has dealt me, no one felt like cooking and so off we went in attempt to cure our blues with a soothing cheeseburger and fries. As I inhaled my dinner, I looked around and saw some young people having fun and I remembered being them 15 years ago. I took a hard look at myself and realized that I had become that woman that I swore I would never be because really is it that hard to keep that baby's nose wiped and seriously, what kind of person shoves their screaming child's face full of french fries just to shut them up. Good Gawd. And did you just, like, not notice the applesauce all over your sweater? Buy a mirror, get a clue, lady. As we were finishing our meal, Goldie started noticing the faux 'presents' that were out as decorations and she lost her damn mind. "Happy Birthday?" she asked. "No, baby, those are just for pretend. "But I WANT HAPPY BIRTHDAY." Holy fuckerini, I have to get out of here. As I snatched up my convulsing toddler I saw a man, middle aged, glaring at me and he shot me a look so dirty that I needed a shower (in addition to the dirty I was before the look). I can't believe that people could be so hateful. I mean, we were at Red Robin, not Spago asshole. Did you not notice the balloons as you walked in?
I also have become a Puritan in regards to my children. I am definitely the friend you would come to if you are having some sort of sex crisis or malfunction in your Lady Garden, because I am all about getting up in your business regarding your, you know, business. That said, I am the complete opposite where my children are concerned. I will NOT be the neighborhood cool mom who will have a bowl of condoms on the table next to the Cheetos. I just freak out at the thought. They can learn about this stuff when they are 14 the same place I did, from drunk 19 year olds that wanted to get in my pants. I think I just hyperventilated a little. I have not even given her a name for her um, private area and was totally at a loss as what to say when an issue came up regarding what parts of our body we DO NOT TOUCH AT THE TABLE. I just told her that you should only touch that area in private. When I'm dead.
Oh my God I am not ready for this stuff.
posted by Kirsten at
8:09 PM
4 Comments:
You crack me up! You know my husband's parents were like that. Didn't give a squat even after my mom called his mom and said I could be pregnant at 17. LOL!
I think we all want to be cool mom's but it's just not going to happen. The snot is occasionally not going to be wiped, we won't have the perfect shut off switch for our little ones in public, and they need to eat healthy but really a burger isn't going to kill them. We can try though. :) Believe me with my 4, I've had all sorts of looks and comments. lol
I feel like you have channeled me in this post. I totally thought I would want to be the mom that the teenagers wanted to hang with, my daughter would tell me EVERYTHING going on in her life.
Yeah, not so much. I have a 3yo and a 1yo and I can't tell you how many times I have already said, "I am your mother first". And I think I am SLOWLY coming to grips with that.
...and with the snot, vomit, applesauce, nasty soy milk, poop, pee, chewed up "i don't like this" stuff, and on and on.
So really, I think you are a supremely cool mom.
Oh, how in for a treat you are. Please be my friend till Goldie and Roob are teenagers. Cause, seriously, I wanna laugh at you. I mean WITH you. seriously. with. you.
hee I get all giddy just thinking about it...
Vagina. Just call it a vagina, 'cuz it's so AWESOME when they yell it at the top of their lungs at the grocery store.
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