Sorry, Teenagers, But It's My Job To Embarrass You

Sorry, Teenagers, But It’s My Job To Embarrass You

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Courtesy of Katie Smith

My son took his driving test last week. As we pulled up, he made sure he was in the parking spot correctly and got out twice to check. It was important to him to get it exactly right. Appearances are everything to teens. Their ego are the biggest thing going, I don’t care what anyone says.

The good teens, the smart ass teens, the teens who make the honor roll, and the teens who act like they don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about them, all have something at the forefront of their minds: What do people think about me?

And there’s nothing that comes along and fucks up their reputations like a mom.

Courtesy of Katie Smith

I have three of these creatures living in my house. As they’ve grown older, the more my actions around them make or break their vibe. And really, I don’t give a shit how I make them look or if I embarrass them.

So, when my son drove off with a man in uniform to parallel park and drive around town to see if he’d earned his license and I stood by snapping pictures, he was pissed– not because I was taking pictures to document the event to post online, he’s all for that. He was mad simply because I was there.

Well, too bad, buddy. I’ve earned the right as his mother and the woman who gave birth to his 24” long body and large head.

Courtesy of Katie Smith

I’ve done the work. I’ve wiped the asses. I’ve sat holding them for hours as they’ve suckled at my teat while my nipples turned raw so they wouldn’t cry.

I’ve shat with more than one of them on my lap in a public restroom. I’ve leapt over sides of large things to save them. I’ve dumped out my cup full of caffeine on a long car ride for them to use as a toilet because they’ve had to piss so bad their eyes were yellow and there wasn’t a bathroom in sight.

So that photo I want to take when they are snuggling on the couch will be taken.

Courtesy of Katie Smith

The picture I want with them on Mother’s Day (which is the only damn thing I ask for all year) will happen. I don’t care how long it takes to get a decent one.

When I was over the moon about my son getting his permit and driving me and his brother and sister around, it was a good day and I wanted to talk about it.

The first day of school will get documented every damn year.

If we walk into their favorite store where I’ll be dropping hoards of money so they can look good for school, and they tell me to steer clear of them so no one knows we are related, it’s payback time, baby.

If we are driving through McDonald’s’ and one of their friends is working and they tell me not to make eye contact, talk to them, or breathe, I’ll bust out the moves and make them sorry. Real sorry.

My mothering instincts cannot be shut off simply because they annoy them. I know they might not need reminders to go pee or bring a snack “just in case.” They don’t want to hear how much I love them while dropping them off at a friend’s house. But alas, it’s going to happen every damn day.

So too bad children. 

I am proud of my kids when they hit a milestone, and I like people to know. I miss them when they aren’t with me and I don’t feel the need to keep it to myself. I don’t care if they’re getting out of the car at school drop off, that shit is gonna flow freely. They’re going to hear it (along with a few of their classmates) how much their mother fucking cares about them, dammit.

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You can’t take the mom out of a mom. Once we’ve had kids, our brain chemistry changes. We love hard. That looks like cheering extra loud at their games and straightening their collar and telling them how beautiful they are and reaching for a hug.

It’s not too much for them to tolerate, I don’t care what lies they tell me. Especially coming from the person who has worked so hard to raise them.

Besides, the way I see it everything I do annoys or embarrasses them in some way. I literally cannot win. So, I’m not shutting this love down no matter how much it pains them. It’s my right as their mother. I believe I’ve more than earned it.

But also, let’s be honest. Our kids have embarrassed us a time or two and revenge can be sweet.