Image was important to me from an early age. I blame Barbie with her perfect little nose and weirdly arched feet.

Peaches-n-Cream

I always tried to play it so cool. Never wanting to look like a dork in public. But those days are long gone now. Mom is synonymous with uncool.

Nothing was more humiliating when I had to wear my glasses to school in the second grade. My mom even made me talk to the principal about wearing them…which was even more mortifying. As I got older, I was subjected to my dad picking me up from school in our mini-van — level 9 on a 13-year-old’s embarrassment scale.

I’ve noticed since becoming a mom that I don’t mind looking like a nerd if it makes my baby happy. I’m finally learning not to care what anyone else thinks (it’s only taken me 30 years!). I’ll merrily go along sticking out my tongue or speaking like a chipmunk in broad daylight if it makes my daughter laugh. She has turned me into one of those desperate comedians who will beat a joke to death if it garners even one little pity laugh or smile. “Give me a high 5!” My voice getting louder and more high-pitched with every prompt.

I just can’t help myself.

Trying to be the “cool” mom seems really tricky. How would you know when to be a friend and when to be a parent? Is there a middle ground for this kind of stuff?

I don’t know what kind of mom I’m going to be later but I’m content with being uncool for now. Because my daughter doesn’t know any different yet, and the longer I can keep her in the dark, the better.