On the verge of cool

I was in my van the other day singing away to the radio. I was drumming on the steering wheel and I had all the windows down so the wind was in my face. I was getting down and feeling cool. Then I heard “Mom!” from the back seat. When I turned around to see what the problem was, I found both of my kids with annoyed looks on their faces and their hands on their ears. My son said to me “Mom you’re a nice singer but can you do that at home later and not now please? People can see you.” Ouch. I’m officially uncool. I knew this day would come. I was cool once upon a time, or at least I thought I was. The birth of my kids made me lose my cool like it does for so many parents but God willing I will regain my cool someday as a grandparent. Parents aren't supossed to be cool anyway right?

My parents were definatly no exception, they were very uncool. Our parents were uncool and their parents were uncool, it has been like this for generations I bet for a while even Hercules thought Zeus was a stick in the mud, or clouds I guess it would be. I can just picture it "Dad really? Do you have to throw lightning Every time my friends are over? We get it your powerful could you go inside now your embarrassing me." In the beginning my parents embarrassed me by giving me terrible haircuts. You see, I had a bowl cut, and not just your ordinary bowl cut either, I had a permed bowl cut. Not only was it the same length all the way around my head but it was fluffy too. That actually takes a side seat though to my haircut when I was 2. I had what looked like a Jheri curl mullet. I take no responsibility for that uncoolness that was all my mother’s fault. As I got older I was finally able to take over and I finally became cool. It started with a passion for high top sneakers and neon headbands and then escalated to a love for Zubaz. Zubaz were the pants of the era, they were my hammer pants and I wore them everywhere. When I wasn't in my zubaz I wore my splatter paint jeans. It looked like someone had taken a pair of high waist, pleated, acid washed denim jeans and splattered paint all over them. It was neon and fabulous and I loved them. Yes, I rolled and pinned my jeans at the bottom and yes I rocked slouch socks. I was incredibly cool. By the time I got to high school I was holding my own in the awesome department. I’d say most people wouldn’t have considered me one of the “cool kids" but by that time I Felt cool so I didn’t care what people thought. I think all the aqua net in the 90's affected my judgment though. I wore giant bell bottoms, I shaved my head and I even wore a purple ball gown to school for absolutely no reason. Now you might be thinking to yourself, I don't know if any of that makes a person cool. Trust me it does, I was awesome. I sang loudly to terrible music in my car, I proudly drove a giant white station wagon that I named “The Stinger” and I became a high school cheerleader. The cheerleader thing makes me a little cool right? I got out of high school and moved to Texas and I lived an awesome life. I had a cool apartment in the city, I had a cool car that was all paid off, and I had a cool job that let me meet lots of awesome people. I was in the prime of my awesomeness, who could possibly stifle that ultra-high level of cool?

A baby that’s who. A baby will suck the cool right out of you. I traded in my cool for a baby and in the grand scheme of things I say it was a fair trade. Managing both probably would have killed me. I traded my Zubaz for mom jeans but that’s ok I’ve made my peace with that for now. I held onto a little cool for a few months because I made milk, I provide comfort, and I had an unmatched ability to make my baby sleep. Before he was able to walk I was very cool. But then his little feet hit the ground and he was off and from that point forward he was too cool to be held anymore especially by mom. The next two kids followed suit. I was cool to them for about 10 months then they were mobile and the cool was gone. Now the older my kids get the less cool I become. I'm pretty sure my kids think that I have never done a cool thing in my life and I am the nerdiest person on the planet. I guess it’s fair though, I thought all my dad did for fun was watch golf and listen to Crosby Stiles and Nash, he was the most boring uncool person on earth. That is until his best friend came to stay with us for a week when I was 15. I listened to stories about my dad and this friend sneaking into a bell tower in the middle of the night and ringing the bells. They put a lot of sleepy nuns into a frenzy that night. It was at that moment I thought maybe in another life he wasn't such a dad and perhaps at some point, just for a moment, he was pretty cool after all. My parents embarrassed me and now it's my right to embarrass my kids. I’m still cool but they won’t realize it until they are much older and they hear my version of a bell tower story.

I’m optimistic for the future. I know when my kids become teens their embarrassment will go way up and my cool will go way down. I also know though that when my kids are adults and eventually parents themselves they will do the same things to their kids that I did to them. What goes around comes around. From my understanding as soon as my kids become parents I get my cool back X10 because grandparents are about the coolest people on the planet. My cool hasn’t actually left it’s just on hold until I become a grandma someday. I can handle being the uncoolest person alive as long as I know that getting my cool back is always on the horizon. Some day while I am traveling around the country in my giant white RV named Stinger 2 and wearing my zubaz and high tops one of my kids will call me and say “Mom, my son just said I wasn’t cool and told me to stop singing in the van.” I will just smile and break out in a celebratory running man dance and I will know my cool has come full circle. Until that day I am an uncool mom and proud of it.