I am not a cool mom. Not at all. I do not have a smidgen of coolness in my mom body. And one day I will use it to make my children extremely embarrassed of me. And I can’t wait.

I know that when Henry is older, he is going to look back at this blog and be absolutely irate I shared so many stories about him with the world. He will probably ask me to delete them all and cry about how unfair his life is.

My response will be, “No way kiddo! Suck it up! This blog is like a time capsule of your adorable little life!” Then I will lecture him about how lucky he is that he learned to use an iPad as a toddler because all I had was Oregon Trail in the fourth grade.

I honestly love blogging about his cute moments and his not-so-cute moments. What better way to store my favorite memories of him than with weekly installments about his life that get plastered on my website, Facebook, Instagram, and at times, the Huffington Post? I’m pretty much making his non-existent baby book digital!

When I was younger, my mom embarrassed the hell out of me. There is no reason to explain all the ways she did this and make her mad, because I need her to babysit this weekend.

Instead, I will write about all the reasons I know I will embarrass my children one day. And I am totally okay with it. Because that is what parents are for! I am totally embracing this whole mom-life and the small victories that come with it.

  • Let’s just start with the fact I write a mom blog and chronicle absolutely everything. Does it get any more embarrassing than that for a kid? I honestly don’t think so. No need to pull out the photo album for embarrassing photos on the first date! Just head to my website, www.hashtagmomfail.com! You can even search by keyword and date. How’s that for efficiency?
  • I once wrote an entire blog post about my love for mom jeans. Not a snippet in a post, an entire 900-word essay about my love for denim with extreme coverage. I can’t wait for him to read that and cringe.
  • I can never picture a day where I will let my child leave my side without giving me a kiss and a hug. Since Henry is only two, he understands this is mandatory and doesn’t mind. I don’t know how he will feel about it at age fourteen but I’m guessing he won’t be thrilled. Sorry kiddo, I don’t give up easy. I will scream at him to get back here and give your mommy a kiss!
  • I plan on being the loudest mom in the stands at every sporting event. My husband’s mom is very well known for being a one-woman cheering section, and I hope to follow in her well-placed footsteps. I WILL stand up and scream, “That’s my baby boy!!” when Henry hits his first home run. Or yell, “You got it next time, Henrykins!” if he strikes out or misses a basket.
  • I tell really bad jokes. Jokes people would classify as “dad jokes” and/or anything that has a play on words. Not only do I love telling these jokes to anyone that will listen, I cannot help but laugh out loud every time I tell one. I might be the only one laughing but I don’t care. Those jokes are my jam!
  • My fashion sense is stuck in 2005. I still straighten my hair every day. I will NEVER part with my Revlon ColorStay black eyeliner. And of course, I love my mom jeans. Full coverage for life! I will be rocking this look into my eighties. By then, it might be back in style!
  • I listen to all my favorite songs in the car as loud as I can. And by all my favorite songs, I mean any pop song from 1995-2010. Basckstreet Boys, N*SYNC, 98 Degrees, my girl Britney, and of course, the Queens of Canada, Alanis and Celine. I can’t wait to drop Henry off at middle school while singing “My Heart Will Go On” as loudly as possible with the windows down. And of course playing my air instruments at all the appropriate times.
  • I am actually a little embarrassed by this one, but I have started saying “Oh my goodness” a lot. It’s rough to admit but it’s the cold, hard truth.
  • I’m a bad dancer. Really bad. One day I will get the chance to pull out my sweet tootsie roll or butterfly moves and show Henry his mom could really take over a dance floor back in the day. Just joking, I could never successfully take over a dance floor, but he doesn’t have to know that.
  • Beverly Goldberg is my idol. Enough said.

I honestly can’t wait. One day I can really take pride in embarrassing the hell out of my children and embracing this mom-life. Thinking about it brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

Until Next Time,