My kids refer to me by a lot of different names, probably more names than I care to know about, but of those I have heard, strict, overbearing, tyrant, dictator come up pretty often. I prefer just acknowledging that I’m a helicopter mom. You know, one of those moms who hovers over her child, wanting to know where they are going, who they are seeing, what they are doing—what used to be considered just being a good parent.
This also makes me embarrassing to my kids. Like the time my son’s friend wanted a snack and he gave him a granola bar, which happened to be homemade because I prefer to know what goes into the food my kids eat. My son encouraged him by vouching for their taste. The friend replied, “Oh, you’re one of those kids who likes his mom’s food.” The kid returned the next day asking for more granola bars, but the embarrassment had already occurred.
My need to keep tabs on them to make sure they are not in trouble—or creating it—causes the worst embarrassment.
I require my kids to carry phones with them wherever they go. However, this does not mean they get smartphones. We tried that and ultimately it was an experiment that failed when their smartphones were lost or broken, purposely or accidentally. Still we require that they have phones so we ordered the most basic—and in their perspective, archaic—phones that we could find. They are allowed to text and make calls, but they are far from smartphones. They are ultimately 1990s style flip-phones.
We think these phones get the job done and are all they need to strike a beautiful compromise between giving them the freedom they want and providing us with the safe feeling we want. They think these phones will make them outcasts.
When we got the “new” phones, immediately my middle son said “I’m going to have to make all my calls from the bathroom then.” When asked why, he said, “Because I’ll get harassed by the other kids.”
I can kind of see that. Apparently my kids are the only kids in the entire universe that don’t have smartphones. I don’t care. Instead I offer up my Top Five Most Embarrassing Moments, just to prove that embarrassment doesn’t kill you.
No. 1: That time when my parents told me as a little girl of 5 years old, that I should be a lawyer because I talked too much.
And that other time when I was in the fourth grade and I was trying to talk to a cute boy and I couldn’t efficiently tell my story but instead droned on and on and on, causing the boy to make that “hurry up” motion with his hands. Then that other time when I got fired from a dentist’s office because I talked to the patients too much. These days I don’t talk so much.
No. 2: When I was bullied for wearing a striped shorts set.
In college I once wore a shorts set composed of stripes in primary colors. That was one of the worst days on campus because everywhere I went guys harassed me and called me Rainbow Brite. Yet, I still survived. The lesson here: Fashion risks are fun, but as with any risk, sometimes you win, sometimes you fail.
No. 3: Discovering my clothes were stolen and having to go home clutching a kimono around my body.
My excitement at dancing in the obon festival one year quickly subsided when I ripped the restrictive kimono off to change into my street clothes and realized to my horror that someone had taken them. When I look back now, I realize there was one woman who didn’t seem to like me the year I was dancing in the festival. I still don’t know why or who she was, but that woman remains suspect no. 1. We searched high and low for my clothes that day to no avail; the clothes—and that particular woman—were gone. I traveled home clutching this unraveled kimono to my chest. Lesson here: If you think someone has it out for you, they probably do.
No. 4: That time I flashed the president.
I was on assignment when I snuck into a small gathering for a certain president. I was also five months pregnant and happy that the assignment took place before I left on maternity leave. I parked myself in the corner trying to be inconspicuous as I covered the event. I was surprised when the president (and his entourage) for some reason whooshed across the floor to introduce himself to me, and left just as swiftly. Immediately afterward I was informed that my blouse was open. Lesson here: Don’t wear silk blouses when your pregnancy boobs come in.
No. 5: That embarrassing day on the beach.
I wore a new bikini. When I bought it I thought the bottoms were too big. My husband insisted they’d be fine. Because it was so cute I wore it, I body surfed, and got pummeled. I got out of the water and stood up, facing the ocean, trying to clear the sand from my eyes before I went back in. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a group of teen girls staring. They were looking at my rear and laughing as they passed. I quickly realized that my oversized bikini bottoms acted like a scoop, and I had become the girl on the beach in the cute bikini with a load (of sand) in her bottoms. Note to self: Always trust your instincts when it comes to how your clothing fits.
So there. Some of my most embarrassing moments that didn’t cause me to shrivel up and die—even though I may have thought I would at the time.
Sure, I know these are nothing as mortifyingly embarrassing as whipping out a flip-phone among your iPhone-carrying friends, but the point is we’ve all been there. And who knows, maybe my kids will lead the trend in “retro” cellphones.
Editor Shelly Cone thinks embarrassing situations build character. But she’d still rather avoid them. Tell her your best moments at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Jul 7-14, 2016.