Last week, my son took his driving test, and you would have thought it was the Super Bowl. As we arrived, he double-checked the parking spot, hopping out of the car twice to ensure it was perfect. For teenagers, appearances are paramount. No matter how much they might pretend otherwise, their self-esteem is tied to what others think of them.
Whether they’re the model students or the rebellious type, all teens share a common concern: How will others perceive me? And nothing threatens their carefully curated image quite like a mom.
I have three of these creatures under my roof, and as they mature, my presence seems to either lift or shatter their vibe. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about their embarrassment levels. So, when my son drove off with an instructor for his parallel parking test while I stood by snapping photos, he was not amused. It wasn’t the potential social media post that irritated him; it was simply the fact that I was there.
Sorry, kiddo. I’ve earned that right as your mother, the one who endured nine months of carrying your 24-inch long body and large head.
I’ve paid my dues. I’ve dealt with diaper changes, sleepless nights, and hours of cuddling while nursing until my nipples felt like they were on fire. I’ve even had to multitask in public restrooms with more than one child on my lap. I once sacrificed my drink on a long car ride to make an emergency toilet for a kid whose eyes were practically yellow from holding it in. So yes, I will take that picture of you snuggled on the couch.
The photo I demand on Mother’s Day, which is the only thing I ask for all year, will happen—no matter how long it takes to get a decent shot.
When my son got his permit and drove us around, I was overjoyed and wanted to celebrate that milestone. The first day of school? Documented. If we stroll into their favorite store where I’m about to spend a small fortune on school clothes and they plead with me to keep my distance, I’m ready for some payback. And if we swing by McDonald’s and one of their friends is working, and they insist I don’t make contact, well, I’ll be the loudest mom there, dancing like nobody’s watching.
My maternal instincts can’t be switched off just because they find me annoying. Sure, they might not want a reminder to use the restroom or a snack “just in case.” They might cringe when I express my love while dropping them off at a friend’s house. But guess what? It’s happening daily, much to their chagrin.
I take pride in my children’s achievements, and I want the world to know. I genuinely miss them when they’re not around and have no qualms about expressing it. Whether they’re stepping out of the car at school drop-off, their peers will hear how much their mom cares, loud and clear.
Once you become a mom, your brain chemistry shifts to one of relentless love and pride—whether you’re cheering at their games, adjusting their collar, or reaching out for a hug. They might pretend it’s too much, but deep down, I know it’s not. I’ve earned this right after all those years of hard work.
Plus, let’s be real; our kids have embarrassed us more than a few times, and revenge can be a delightful dish served cold.
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In summary, embracing the role of a proud mom often means navigating the fine line between celebrating your children and potentially embarrassing them. It’s a natural part of the journey, and while they may resist it, my love and pride will always shine through.
Keyphrase: Embarrassing teenagers as a mom
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