Back in the day, my music taste and my mom’s were like two ships passing in the night. While she was lost in the smooth melodies of Dan Hill (and come on, you know you want to belt out: “Sometimes when we touch / The honesty’s too much / And I have to close my eyes aaaaand cry…”), I was more about wearing out my “If” 45—was it even a cassette?—by Bread. The Beatles? She thought they were too intense. The BEATLES! Meanwhile, my mom was nowhere nearby to discuss U2’s War, let alone squeal, “Can you believe that Edge solo?!”
Fast forward to 2014, and it seems parents everywhere are having this same cheeky chat with their elementary-aged kids:
Us: “Could you pop ‘Shake It Off’ onto our Sunday Afternoon playlist?”
Them: “Sure! Just let me finish this level.”
Us: “Thanks! (Five minutes later.) Okay, you finished? Time to shut the iPad.”
Them: “But I’m not done with my game!”
Us: “Time’s up!”
Them: “But I’m just about to get my stripey next to my wrapped candy!”
Us (voice escalating): “What level are you on? Are you messing up my level 127?! HAND BACK THE iPAD!”
Them: “MommmmmUH! It’s MY turn!”
Here’s the kicker: My mom plays Candy Crush, I play it, and even my 8- and 5-year-olds are in on the action. Have you encountered Tiny Thief? That game is an absolute blast! Phineas & Ferb? Pure genius! And let’s be honest—I’m a fan of Taylor Swift, and I can sing along to all the songs from Frozen and Matilda without anyone holding a metaphorical gun to my head. My kids even throw a dance party to Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball”—because yes, we all adore that jam. They’ve also got a taste for Beck, Arcade Fire, Dolly Parton, Bob Dylan, Radiohead, and Beyoncé… the list goes on.
So, if 8 is the new 15 and 40 is the new 13, that raises a rather curious question: Are parents just aging down, or are our kids growing up faster?
Sometimes, as I download yet another app, it hits me—we adults might be in a desperate, losing battle to cling to our youth and relevance. It feels like we’re the proverbial grandma in a miniskirt, clutching her iPhone like it’s a life preserver while elbowing the younger crowd out of the spotlight. Are we raising a generation of kids who speak like characters from Family Guy and sport skinny jeans over their diapers?
If both parents and kids are engrossed in the same post-apocalyptic dystopian vampire novels and trading playlists, what will our tweens and teens hide from us? What will be theirs alone? It’s almost like we’re robbing them of the classic teenage rebellion—how can they loathe us for being clueless if we’re getting front-row seats to a Katy Perry concert as a family?
It’s akin to if hippies were jamming to Perry Como or Judith Light was rocking out to Pearl Jam on Who’s the Boss. Where’s the order? What will our kids reminisce about in therapy decades from now? That Mom was better at Minecraft? That Dad embarrassed them at a party by insisting Kanye was better after Kim than before?
I can’t say for sure what this means for the next generation. But for me, it’s revealing. By the time my mom reached my age, she was free. She could geek out to Loggins & Messina all day long, wearing sweats without a care in the world. Expectations? Gone. She was viewed as responsible and mature, focused on nurturing the next generation rather than swooning over pre-Synchronicity Sting. In other words, she was deemed old, irrelevant, invisible—hardly the target audience for anything hip.
Now, the pressure is intense. We’re expected to be not just good parents, but cool ones too. I have to look like I’m trying but not too hard—Tom’s flats, definitely not wedges. Comfort has taken a backseat to style, and somehow I’ve learned that Jack White is “totally lame,” yet listening to the White Stripes ironically is all the rage. God forbid I admit I love that catchy “Why You Gotta Be So Cruel” song while we drive through our neighborhood—better roll up the windows!
The stakes have never felt higher. In the ‘80s, grown-ups who played video games and watched cartoons were the stoner Uncle Jims of the world. Now, that’s just Dad.
Kids and adults have morphed into a hybrid—children are clever and witty, reminding us to update our devices. Meanwhile, we’re the responsible bill payers with an unshakeable fondness for youth culture. We’re part of their world, but just enough to maintain our credibility. Kids today are effortlessly cool (where was geek chic when I needed it?), yet we still preach “just be yourselves”—but now we’re trying to mirror them too. Is this a reflection of our insecurity as 40-somethings, or is it just an amazing time to be young?
I know what you might be thinking—this is all my own doing. My kids shouldn’t be glued to their iPads, and I shouldn’t care about my jeans or playlist. But I revel in being connected and engaged! Pop culture today is sharper and more entertaining than ever, and I want to share that joy with my kids. Why should they have all the fun? Plus, if I’m rocking level 400 and they’re still on 296, they’ve got no right to treat me with disdain! If they do, I can always school them on the fine art of explosive candy with sprinkles, and then send them to their rooms.
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In conclusion, the lines between parents and children are blurring, leaving us to wonder what this means for the next generation. While we share interests and experiences, we must also recognize the importance of individuality and the classic rebellious spirit of youth.