Uncool - A Realisation

For the last couple of years I have been struggling with a difficult realisation.

I am uncool.

Now, I may not be uncool in the eyes of the world. Actually, I don't know how I'm viewed in the eyes of the world, and to be honest, I prefer it this way. I don't want to have my coolness status confirmed. This way, I can convince myself I'm, like, totally hip, and be cheerful in my deluded ignorance.

But I am profoundly uncool in the eyes of my children, and this saddens me quite deeply. I had always intended to be a super cool mum. My own mum was pretty cool, and I wanted to beat her at her own game. I wanted to be the kind of mum my children were proud of. The kind of mum they were proud to show their friends. The kind of mum they would want to take out clubbing. (Okay, maybe not that cool. That's kind of creepy.)

I did not write this text. But totes could have.

Instead, however, the opposite is true. My children see me as mortifying bordering on the tragic. I am banned from speaking in front of my 14 year old's friends due to general embarrassment, and am regularly chastised by my daughter for everything from dancing, to being naked, to trying to speak in rap (or, er, all three at once).

Despite my loftiest intentions, I am shockingly uncool.

I don't understand why I am such an abject failure. I have all of the outward trappings of cool. I wear jeans and cargo pants. I have tattoos, but not too many. I once had three earrings in the one ear (until, er, they all became infected). I like hip hop and The Big Bang Theory and Coke Zero and Matt Damon. I do cool things like meet famous people and go on TV and write books. And I do social media, for god sake. There is nothing cooler than social media! What on earth do my children want?

Well, they want me to stop singing and dancing, for a start, because I am 'useless' and it is 'horrible'. They wish me to stop telling jokes, because I'm not funny and it's just lame. They want me to never be naked, because that is just scary. They don't want me to swear, because swearing is rude. And they don't want me to talk about sex or puberty or any of the things that cool parents discuss with their kids. And I've dreamed of these conversations all my life, so who the hell can I possibly have them with now?

Still, being uncool is just something I have to get used to, like having wrinkles, and the fact that Simon Baker will never love me. And I'll be okay with it, eventually. I really will. Being cool isn't the most important part of parenting. It's about love, and communication, and honesty, and trust.

And besides, one day, I am going to be the coolest grandparent IN THE WORLD. And my uncool-parent children are going to be jealous as hell.