I get a text whenever one of my daughters tweets. It’s partly a control thing. Watching out for unnecessary swearing, pics that have the potential to keep them out of college or from becoming gainfully employed and the inevitable use of your when you’re is the right word choice. But it’s also because I’m too lazy to scroll through all the people I follow or to head to their Twitter feed every day to see what they are saying to the world. I like my phone buzzing at me, the equivalent of a slap upside the head to say, “Pay attention…parent.” Noun. And verb.

My 19-year-old views this monitoring more like an electronic home arrest ankle bracelet than the warm embrace of the parental iCloud I see it as.

“You’re obsessed with us,” she says to me. I don’t respond. I’m not obsessed. Kim Kardashian is obsessed with her younger, half-sister Kylie. Taylor Swift is obsessed with Beyoncé. People Magazine is obsessed with the royal family. And Matthew McConaughey. Neither of which I understand. But I learn these things not to keep up with the Kardashians. Just to keep up with my teen-aged girls.

Since I am not vegan, don’t take Thrive and don’t do CrossFit, I think I am decidedly unobsessed. I’m just trying to stay connected with my kids in an era that has electronic challenges that extend far beyond what my mother had to worry about. (The streetlights are on. Are my kids home? No? OK, I’ll just yell out the door. Or wait for them to call me collect from the payphone to pick them up. And I may at some point have to ask them to put down the Mattel Electronic Football simply because the pings of the blinking dashes are making me insane.) 

I have joined some social media channels for the sole purpose of staying connected to them. So, yes, Twitter. And Facebook (though, FYI that’s just for old people now. And anyone out of high school who wants to post a ton of pics at once.) I have lost count of the number of times I got the “Mom, go like my pic” texts, referring to an Instagram post. I’m fluent in Snapchat and emojis, and apparently need to get on VSCO. If only to see the random pics they have taken of me and posted.

It would be easy to say we had it easier growing up. Largely because we did. We never had to worry about people sub tweeting about us.

And I understand the parents (and grandparents) tired of looking at the tops of teen heads that are forever face in the phone. Everyone needs a break from the all-too addictive screen. (Myself included.) But in life, and in handheld digital media, I choose to see the positive.

My kids are up on current events. And they know the Kardashian view on said current events. (We take the good with the bad. Sort of like hot dogs with ketchup. Which, for the record, I like.)

My kids are honing their creative and their writing skills. My oldest has an amazing eye for photography…both people and nature, and social media provides her that outlet. My middle daughter has perfectly captured the voice of the teen girl. She simultaneously makes people laugh and feel better about themselves in 140 characters. My youngest, the introvert, is more of a social media follower than participant at this point, but what she reads feeds what is an impressive intellectual curiosity.

They have evolved their online presence. Thanks to things like Time Hop and scrolling through their own feeds, my 17-year-old declares, “Oh my god…I used to tweet like 20 times a day last year. Why didn’t you say something??” We did.

Their world is changing fast. One tweet, post and Insta at a time. I want to stay a part of it. In an thoughtful and observant and sometimes grammar-correcting, but not hovering way. Like a less manly Mrs. Doubtfire. One text at a time.