Thoughts on being the “Old Freak” Room Mom.
Some of you might have seen this recent FB post of mine.
My 10 year old could live with the embarrassment of me going to his class to talk about saving pop tops if:
a) I washed my hair.
b.) Didn’t wear make-up. Because when I wear make-up I look like a freak.
Not just any freak.
An old freak.
I get it.
Every child looks at his mum through the hypercritical magnifying class of 4th grade peers.
NOTHING needs to stick out.
NOTHING should be different.
My dad had a buzz cut way after all the other dads were letting their hair grow. It made me CRAZY. My dad drove a BEHEMOTH station wagon while all the other parents sported about in 1970’s imports.
Or even better.
They dropped of my elementary school classmates in a Vega.
Even after all these years I still get a chill looking at this photo.
Yes. My parents were older. Therefore they were unhip.
But I’m so cooool. Okay I’m older, but don’t my kids know I’m the only mom in the universe that has ageless hipster-ism?
Of course, they don’t.
Because I don’t.
I’m a 51-year-old mom with 51-year-old skin and 51-year-old hair.
Fifty-one year-old hands –uugggghhh the worse part.
Now this is not a pity me post. Heavens no.
I’m older but I’m wiser. I can roll with some pretty tough sh*t that’s been sloshed my way.
I look fine for my age.
But I need to keep bathing and tone down the make up.
At least on the days I’m heading up to the elementary school.
What do y’all think? Have your kids reached the age of my parents’ are the worst embarrassment to mankind?
