I Was Never the “Cool Mom”

I was never the cool mom. Perhaps a lifetime of not being one of the cool, popular people prepared me to accept I would never qualify for earning the title of a cool mom. I’ll admit to occasionally wishing I were qualified for that elite group, but reality always brought me back to earth. I was a fun mom, I was a loving mom, I was a patient and kind mom, but I was never the cool mom.

Defining a “cool mom”

When I picture a cool mom, I think of the mothers who were always dressed trendy, as if maybe they shared a closet with their teen daughters. These women were usually whippet thin and showed up at early morning school drop-off looking composed and ready to take on the day. I had already lost that battle, as I usually walked my kids in while I was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. It would have been a good day if my rumpled ensemble hadn’t been obviously picked out of the dirty clothes basket. My hair was almost always still in the messy braid I had slept in. I was behind the eight ball, and the sun was barely up.

Although appearances are an important component in identifying “cool moms,” there is more to them than looks. Most of them pride themselves on being their child’s friend as well as a parent. My kids and I had fun together, but I always kept a boundary. Maybe I was scared of losing control because, as a single mom, the kids outnumbered me. It was easy to imagine the inmates overruling the warden. Our home wasn’t a prison, but it was a monarchy. I would allow my royal subjects an opinion, but I was the queen, and my rulings were the final verdict.

Movies

An example of this was movies. I believed there was a reason there was a 13 after PG rating, and I stood firm in my belief that they weren’t allowed to watch PG-13 movies until they were 13 years old. This wasn’t a problem until they spent the night at friends’ houses that were ruled by a cool mom. Slumber parties were a source of rules that were not consistent, but I wasn’t so rigid that I couldn’t overlook the bending of some rules. However, after picking up my 12-year-old daughter from a slumber party that had been a coed slumber party (a fact the other parents were not told), I realized there was a big gap between me and the cool moms.

Parties

The chasm between the cool moms and the not-cool moms became more obvious as my kids entered high school, and rumors of parties with parent-approved consumption of alcohol began taking place. The logic behind this was assuming teenagers were going to drink alcohol; it was safer to drink it at a parent’s home. Besides the obvious fact that it is illegal to serve alcohol to a minor, there are many other liability issues involved.

Fortunately, my kids had friends who also didn’t have cool moms, so they were never invited to those parties. My concession to the teen drinking issue was to make sure my daughters knew they could always call for a ride, no questions asked.

Working at my kids’ school

I worked at my kids’ school, which I’m sure was a mixed bag for my kids. When they were in elementary school, they loved that I was the swim teacher and coach. Almost everyone loved swim class, and the swim team was a favorite after-school activity.

By the time they were in high school, it was probably less desirable to have their mom at school. One of my daughters would barely acknowledge me if I saw her in the halls or the cafeteria. I was lucky to get a little nod of the head from her. The other daughter would excitedly run up to me and throw her arms around me no matter who she was with. I asked her if she was embarrassed to hug me in front of her friends. She said no, she was so not cool that it didn’t matter to her what anyone thought. I guess being “not cool” is genetic, but I always thought it was admirable she didn’t care who knew she loved her mom.

Doing your best

I wasn’t destined to be a cool mom, and I’m not a cool grandmother. One of my adult daughters recently apologized for her teenage rebellions. She said she was mad that I had rules, but now she realizes my rules were boundaries to keep her safe. As an adult, she’s now happy I had rules. In return, I admit that some of my rules were too strict. As parents, we’re just trying our best to figure out the maze of parenting. We have to find out what style of parenting fits us and our children the best.

I may never have been the cool mom, but I’m OK with that. I made many mistakes along the way, but it was my first time parenting, and I did the best I could with the resources I had. I will never be cool, and if you see me out and about, I’ll probably still be dressed in yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and hair in a messy ponytail. That’s who I am, and now that I think about it, maybe, like my daughter, I’m too cool to care what anyone else thinks.