I’m No Teri Shields (I Think)

When Brooke Shields made the media rounds to promote her new book “There Was A Little Girl,” I was compelled to listen.  Celebrity tell-all’s are irresistible as is, but one about being raised by a single mom hit a personal bulls eye.

Polar opposite of the Duggars I agree with Brooke Shields’ assessment that it has a “you and me against the world, babe” feel. I might not be Teri Shields, but, damn if I don’t have the same lioness tendency. I can be fiercely protective of Savannah, while pushing independence.  Enmeshed to a fault, she’s the only person with whom I can argue and laugh in the same breath.

Reading about Teri Shields alcoholism and stage mother antics, made me wonder what Savannah would say about me if she unleashed. Dads often sail through parenting on their wallets and toolboxes. They can spend a lifetime, as my dad did, sitting in front of the TV watching the “game” and drinking beer and it will be shrugged off. However, with moms and daughters it’s more like a Rubik’s Cube. If I dare call Savannah by her nickname “Banana” in public she’ll hiss, “You’re embarrassing me!” yet be oblivious to the fact she’s wearing polka and stripes.

This begs the question: would Savannah out me as a mom who sneaks in episodes of the “Keeping Up With The Kardashians?” Dish that we once lost one another on the West Side bike path? (We’re both trying to get over that one.) Complain that I was abusive because I wouldn’t drop $150 on a pair of lavender Uggs, though adorable. Announce my cooking skills are limited to frozen pizza and grilled cheese? Or, will I get the single mom pass for doing two jobs for one pay?

Doubtful.  Moms never get the pass.

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