Last week, my son took his driving test. As we pulled into the parking lot, he meticulously checked his alignment, getting out of the car not once but twice to make sure everything was perfect. For him, it’s all about appearances. Teenagers, regardless of whether they’re the overachievers, the rebels, or the ones who pretend not to care, are constantly preoccupied with one thought: What do others think of me? And nothing can disrupt their carefully curated image quite like a mom.
I have three of these marvelous beings living under my roof. As they grow older, my actions increasingly influence their social standing. But here’s the thing: I really don’t care about their embarrassment.
So, when my son sped off with the examiner, and I stood there snapping photos, he was furious—not because I planned to share those moments online (he doesn’t mind that), but simply because I was present. Tough luck, buddy. I’ve earned my place as the mother who brought you into this world.
I’ve paid my dues. I’ve dealt with diaper changes and late-night feedings while nursing them through raw nipples. I’ve even navigated public restrooms with kids on my lap. I’ve sacrificed my own comforts—like pouring out my drink on a road trip for an emergency bathroom break.
So yes, I will take that cozy picture of us on the couch.
When Mother’s Day rolls around, I demand the one thing I ask for all year: a decent photo with my children. No matter how long it takes to get a good shot, it will happen. The joy I felt when my son got his permit and drove us around was something I wanted to celebrate. Every school year starts with a documented first day, and if we’re in their favorite store, spending money on clothes, and they tell me to stay away so no one knows we’re related? Oh, it’s payback time!
If we happen to swing by McDonald’s and one of their friends is working, and they instruct me not to speak or even make eye contact, I’ll turn it up a notch. My mothering instincts are unyielding, even if they find my reminders to drink water or pack a snack annoying. It doesn’t matter how many times they roll their eyes; my love for them will not be silenced.
I take pride in my children’s accomplishments and want the world to know. I miss them when they’re not with me, and I won’t hold back my feelings, even during school drop-offs when my affection might embarrass them in front of their peers.
The truth is, once you become a parent, your brain changes. You love fiercely, which means cheering loudly at their events, giving compliments, and reaching for hugs. They may claim to be mortified, but I refuse to tone it down. After all, I’ve earned this right as their mother.
And let’s face it, kids have embarrassed us too, so a little revenge can be sweet.
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In summary, parenting is a delicate balance of love, embarrassment, and pride. As I navigate the teenage years with my kids, I’ll continue to cheer them on and capture every moment, regardless of how they feel about it.
Keyphrase: Embarrassing Teens as a Parent
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