Confessions of a Professional Mom

Confessions of a Professional Mom

Professional mom seeking clarity, balance and a well deserved glass of wine.

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Don’t Speak Unless Spoken To

August 12, 2013 , , , , , , , , ,

Don't Speak Unless Spoken ToYou know that old saying that our parents grew up with, “Don’t speak unless spoken to.” I’ve come to realize that this also applies in 2013 when you are the mother of a teenager.

Recently, I was driving (playing unpaid taxi driver) 13 Going on 30 around with her girlfriend and I realized something profound. It’s like I didn’t exist. They were so busy giggling and texting and speaking in teenage tongues that it was as if I didn’t even exist. I was there solely to cart them to and fro and spit money out of my ass like an ATM machine. My new acronym will be AAC…AUTOMATED ASS CASH. (TM here)

It was kind of sad. I felt invisible in my own car with my own child. This wasn’t something she was doing to be mean. She was just there with her BFF and I was about as popular as fungus in a petrie dish. Hmmm!  When did this invisibility cloak befall me? I was cool when I got pregnant. I was super cool when I squeezed her big head out of me and endured 100 stitches. I was certainly cool when I breast fed her over 500 times and changed her stinky diapers (while on a conference call with an important client). I was always cool when I “remembered” to be the Tooth Fairy or made Christmas extraordinary with a bike or whatever the “thing” was that she was dying for.

Now, I’m more like an embarrassment. Like that creepy weird aunt they keep locked away in a room way way upstairs, hiding her away so as not to scare the neighborhood children and bring shame to the family. Some days it doesn’t matter what I say or do. Each action is greeted with an eye roll, a guffaw and a, “Mother, really?!”

I miss feeling cool. Feeling accepted. Feeling special for being a mom. Oh, I know, that will happen again when she has a baby and needs me to keep it while she goes on vacation to be cool with her husband and friends. Good God! This is a perpetual cycle. Grab my hand and yank me from the bowels of teenage hell. I have six years to go and I’m not sure I’m going to survive. I’m going to become “that” mom…the one who starts wearing “slacks from Penney’s” and comfortable shoes and forgets to make time to get her roots colored. I’ll hide away in my room reading Harlequin novels until one of my kids unlocks the door and lets me out because they need to be driven somewhere. I’ll forget my purpose in life and start referring to myself in third person and to my husband as “Father” or “Daddy.” Eeek!

I remember all too well when I thought my mom was a fungus. For a period of about two years I could barely stand the sight of her. I’m ashamed to admit this now. I was appalled that she didn’t know who the latest boy band was or what jeans were in style or what a fax machine was, for Lord’s sake. She was an embarrassment to me. I had no idea how I came from her.

I guess I have to validate myself. Not seeking cool points from anyone but moi. I tell my daughter that I majored in MEAN 101 and EMBARRASSING 210 and I got an A+ in both. Some day maybe she’ll see my value again. See how awesome I really am. Understand that all the things she detests about me are inside her right now for future enjoyment. (evil laugh here) Know that she too will leak every time she laughs too hard or sneezes without warning. Revel in the joy of folding that little kangaroo pouch that she can’t seem to get rid of from having babies into her swimsuit every summer.  Go broke from expending way too much money on hair removal. Listen to her hair dresser giggle when she exclaims, “Good thing I’m not gray yet.” It’s coming sister!

And I’m gonna laugh all the way to the bathroom (on a cruise ship around the world…cocktail please!). Love you, princess!

Stay sane, my friends.



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You are always the brightest sun in my day my love. BTW, can I borrow $20 for gas 😉 XO!



August 12, 2013

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