By: Emily Carter
Last week, my son, Jake, took his driving test. As we arrived at the testing center, he made a point of checking the parking spot not once, but twice to ensure he was perfectly aligned. For teenagers, appearances are everything. Their egos are like a balloon—fragile yet inflated, and no one can pop it quite like a mom can.
Whether they’re the star students or the rebellious types who claim not to care what anyone thinks, every teen is preoccupied with one thought: How do I appear to others? And when it comes to ruining that image, nothing does it better than a parent lurking nearby.
I have three of these creatures living in my house, and as they’ve aged, every little thing I do has the power to either boost or tear down their social vibe. Honestly, I’m not losing any sleep over how they feel about my antics.
So, when Jake sped off with the instructor, parallel parking and cruising around town to prove he was ready for his license while I stood there snapping photos, he was furious—not because I was documenting this moment for social media, but simply because I was there. Tough luck, kiddo. I’ve earned my place as his mother, the one who endured the challenge of birthing his 24-inch-long frame.
I’ve put in the work—changing diapers, cradling them through countless sleepless nights, and even sitting in public restrooms with one of them on my lap. I’ve sacrificed my coffee for makeshift toilets during long road trips—there’s no way I’m not taking that picture when they cuddle on the couch.
Mother’s Day? I want that photo, and I don’t care how long it takes to get it right. When I was over the moon about Jake finally getting his permit and driving his siblings around, I couldn’t help but talk about it. The first day of school? Documented every year without fail.
If we stroll into their favorite store, where I’m about to spend a fortune on trendy outfits, and they plead with me to keep my distance so no one knows we’re related, well, that’s my cue for some payback. If we swing through a drive-thru and one of their friends is working, and they tell me to remain silent, I’ll bust out some embarrassing dance moves just to see the look on their faces.
My maternal instincts can’t be switched off just because it annoys them. They might not want reminders to use the restroom or snacks for “just in case,” and they definitely don’t want to hear how much I love them when I drop them off at a friend’s house. But you better believe that’s happening daily.
I’m proud of my kids and want the world to know it. I miss them when they’re not around, and I see no reason to keep that to myself. As they get out of the car at school, they’ll hear how much I care, whether they like it or not.
Once you become a parent, your brain chemistry changes—you love fiercely. That comes out in loud cheers at their games, fixing their collars, and showering them with affection. They may say it’s too much, but I refuse to let that deter me. No matter how hard they try to avoid it, I’ve earned this right as their mother.
Plus, let’s face it; our kids have embarrassed us, too, and it’s only fair that we get our revenge sometimes.
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In summary, embarrassing your teenagers is a rite of passage for parents, and it’s a badge of honor I proudly wear.
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