I hate when people my age claim to be old. I mean I’m not old! I don’t identify as old. I like to live in a state of “I’m not like regular mom’s, I’m a cool mom” kind of territory. But I do get really excited in the kitchen gadget store and it may be right up there with an amazing stationary store (maybe even better!) I can’t really use nice stationary anymore, my hand joints and all…
I have tattoos and run marathons and lift weights. Hey guys, I’m cool over here! Except when I’m not, and mostly I’m not. I have discovered lately that I have deep dived into the forest of being someone’s mom and it is not beyond me to ironically say things like “are you on the pot?” only to discover that my chill vibe doesn’t really hold up anymore and I literally do sound like I’m asking if the kids have tried them there drugs.
I asked my daughter tonight how people do those filters on pictures. No, but not like the picture filters that you can adjust on the gram (note referral to the gram and not insta…because, ya, not cool). She was like “what do you mean, you can do filters when you take a picture” and I said “ya, I adjust the light balance and contrast sometimes, but like, those weird ones that make you look flawless or with makeup or all that?” She basically couldn’t understand what I couldn’t understand. However we did both agree that the whole idea is stupid and that if someone runs into you at Costco, they’re gonna find out pretty quick that you catfish the hell out of your feed.
Anyhow, I also showed her a video of some electric car and was like “Wow! Look at that.” and she was like “fake”. I scoured the comments to discover that it was fake and I was apparently some old gal who falls for these videos and am glad to know my 16yr old is more media savvy than her “but the internets told me so” mother.
So I haven’t “got” snapchat since its inception and I don’t have twitter and tiktok seems like an utter waste of time and a bunch of people looking for pseudo fame or something. I don’t know really. Bah Humbug. But I do tend to assume I’m fairly up with the internet and hip to the jive or whatnot, when it comes to technology. But I was schooled the other day while buying online plane tickets. I got all excited finding these cheap flights and locked those suckers down! Then I told my son how much they cost and he was like “Why so much?” and I, very sure of my purchasing prowess, replied “That’s how much they were after all the fees and extras”. He was like “did you select a bundle?” (meaning a bundle for luggage, etc) I was like “Ya, they have all these extras and then you pay for your seat, etc”. He says “No, they pre-select all those and you have to un-select or just keep saying no or clicking to continue. That’s how they get you!” And ladies and gentleman, I was got! I basically clicked a whole lot of “Yep!” and paid over a hundred more than I needed to .
After this kerfuffle, I proceeded to attempt to stressfully contact customer service and start an online chat with a very unhelpful robot who would not hear my repeated typed pleas of “Customer Service”. Then I basically discovered that I could simply cancel the flight and get a refund (in 7-10 business days of course) and start over. So apparently my not yet 20yr old son, who has literally flown on a plane by himself 4 times, is who should be working this website. But also, this not-old dog was taught this new trick, so there is that. Fool me once!
I find myself more and more often asking my kids super lame and out of the loop questions. Luckily I am met more with sweet laughter, than eye rolls. I often used to think I asked dorky stuff to heckle them and be ironic. But, honestly, now I have discovered that many of my questions are in total earnest and I don’t even know what I don’t know until I get a response that shows me my age and lack of what-the-kids-are-into these days. Also, I earnestly use words like earnest, so that says a lot right there.
My 16yr old said she’d like to start going to parties this summer. I was completely not expecting this. I guess I never went to parties and was too shy to care. I had a friend group and a boyfriend and that was my bag; I wasn’t into some bush party where I didn’t know or like people. And I went to high school in a small town, so bush parties were the thing. My sister did. My sister also smoked and did rebel things. I rode my bike to my boy friend’s house and rarely tried alcohol. I basically have always been 40.
When she asked to go to parties, she basically means some random party, announced somehow online, at some random location, with mostly people she doesn’t know, and her and some friends just go there. Like, with strangers! Like, with kids from all over the city and in some dudes that will definitely be older than 16 and there will most defiantly be kids on the pot and drinking the alcohols. And in some park somewhere! I mean, come on, can’t you be shy and lame like me!? My son had a pair of $200 shoes stolen at a party in high school! I was like “who steals someone’s shoes!?” and my boyfriend (who is markedly cooler than me) was like “Ya, that happens. That’s why you leave your shoes or good stuff in your car when you go to a party”. What!? Excuse me now, but what!? No, that’s why you hang out with your four friends and watch movies and gossip. Parties? With strangers!? And in the woods somewhere! But that’s what kids do I guess. And luckily they have phones now.
I hold strongly to the belief that you keep open communication and try your best to warn and facilitate good choices, but restriction leads to lying. I’d rather know that she was at a bush party and where, when and how she was getting there and back, than have her lie and go anyways and not know how to find her. I used to tell my son that I’d rather know he was downtown or across the city so we knew where to look for the body, than to just think he was up the street at his friend’s house and be none the wiser if he needed help.
But alas, I think I have defiantly entered the age of “somebody’s mom”. I have seen it in pictures. I have heard it in my steadfast opinions. I have witnessed far too many moments of my own very thin line of cool become as thin as my likelihood of sleeping through the night without having pee. But, as with most realizations I’ve had with aging, I don’t know if I care. I think my ever present quality of being a square has been honed into a craft of knowing that I am hip to be square.
*Note Huey Lewis lyric reference, further proving my point. Whatever.
Periscopecake 