If you’ve read me for a while, you know I despise text lingo, but I literally laughed out loud at the site of this, so much so I forgot to press down the gas pedal when the light changed to green.
All I could think of while sitting in my cute little SUV, windows down, sunroof open, music up a little too loud, was me too honey, me too.
I used to be the shiz-nit, the bomb, hip, happening, cool beans…. You name the phrase, I desperately lived under the delusion I was it. At one point I was known to believe that I was all that AND a bag of chips.
I used to tear out every Benetton Colors add, dreaming of the day I would be able to convince my mom to buy me just one of their over priced items.
I used to sing into my hair brush, knowing one day, not just ‘Only In My Dreams’, Donnie Wahlberg would find me and we would live happily ever after. (Who am I kidding. I still have that dream.)
Then I had kids and vowed that I would not relinquish my cool crown. “From my cold dead hands!” (Imagine me channeling Heston here.)
Yet, I found myself doing all the uncool, responsible things that used to make me roll my eyes and mumble ‘I’ll never make my kids….’
I set schedules, bedtimes, and limits.
I made rules about screen viewing, number of vegetable consumed, and days you can wear socks before they must be burned.
I’ve said things like: not on a school night, because I said so, and I’m the Mom, that’s why.
I’ve been gripped at, mumbled about, eye-rolled, whined at, and stomped away from. I’ve probably ruined a few lives along the way.
Luckily, I’ve also…
Built fort mansions in the living room, kissed boo-boos and dished out countless band-aids, spent hours being the Guinea Pig – I mean customer – in the beauty salon, said yes to Ice Cream first, allowed multi-person sleep overs (I’m still recovering and that was 6 years ago), spent hours vacuuming sand out of my truck after park adventures, cheered at sporting events and music performances, celebrated successes, picked them up when they were down, and wiped away numerous tears, both theirs and mine from sadness as well as joy.
Now, they might not think I’m as cool as I still believe myself to be, but I think, when you weigh my cool category accomplishments against the uncool responsibilities, I believe come out on the winning side.
(Plus, I still memorize dances from the latest music videos and then bust a move when necessary!)