I used to be the kool-aid mom, had the house in Springville where neighbor children would go to stain their mouths red (or whatever the color of the day was), eat snacks, make forts out of boxes, try to build treehouses with yarn, and so on. I was the kool-aid mom.
Now I get to be the cool mom, by default, because most mothers of my daughters' friends are older than me. I seem more accessible to Cathy's and Sarah's friends, like the same music they do, let my girls color their hair with sharpie marker, write on their jeans, and wear aviator goggles to school. As long as they do nothing permanent, I don't see the big deal in letting the girls express themselves.
So, Cathy started texting last night while out shopping with her friends, in all caps because she was excited, "I LOVE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING FOR MY LOVED ONES." When Cathy got home, she also told me how one topic of discussion while she was out shopping was... myself. How cool I am, how her guy friends think I'm cute. Thanks, Andrew! Call me in five years.
After my craptastic year, hearing Cathy share this was the best gift ever, better than anything she could have bought. Even if her friends also said that I remind them of the mom on Weeds. Not so sure that's a good thing!