Teens Rock

I love teenagers. 

Probably because I still feel like one. 

I mean, how did I get to be 36, responsible for three small human beings, the owner of a mortgage and a minivan, already on my "second career," married for almost nine years and kissing only one guy for ten?

Just two seconds ago my mom was checking me into college while I wore a flannel tied around my waist and Nirvana and Snoop blared from the dorm windows...right?

Not.  I'm a mid-thirties suburban mom. And I've never been so happy.  Even as each day I see my hotness quotient plummet.  Even as I realize the bra I try to buy at Vicky's Torrid Trampy Secret doesn't even come in boring nude or black or a nursing option.  Even as the dermatologist I booked to zap my zits tries to upsell me on Botox injections. 

And one of the reasons my sagging facial muscles are smiling is that I'm blessed to hang out with teenagers on a regular basis. 

My youngest brother is still a teenager - he's a 19-year-old college freshman.  Several of my husband's nephews and nieces and young cousins are in high school and college. We're lucky to live next door and across the street to three fabulous teens who are not too cool to avoid watching the Superbowl with us or play some rounds of Apples to Apples. 

Both of our regular babysitters, age 17 and 19, feel like members of the family - little sisters to me, and big sisters to my kids.  And my kids' school goes up to eighth grade and all the kids are tight, so our entire family gets to be friends with a wonderful group of middle school tweens and teens. 

Here's a few things - some fun, some profound - that I've learned from this great group of almost-adults:

• A profession of love via Facebook wall post is the new version of the local radio station song dedication, e.g. "I just want to say that I <3 you Tyler, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me!!!!!!"  (I don't know whether this or a poignant dedication of a Boyz II Men song is cheesier.)

• Getting your driver's license is not that big of deal, and getting your license on your actual 16th birthday doesn't even happen anymore (in Maryland for instance, you must be 16 years 3 months to get a license that is only provisional - you're not allowed passengers for a good while after.)

• Applying to high schools in the Washington D.C. area is highly competitive, be they public high schools with special programs or private institutions.  The process requires letters of recommendation and awaiting of acceptance letters.

• And applying to college?  Craziness.  From what I have learned from my brother's process this year, it seems akin to applying to medical school.  According to The New York Times, the 2009-2010 school year marked the largest group of high school seniors in the nation's history: 3.2 million!

• You'll get a WAY better response on a babysitting request if you text message your favorite teenager directly on her personal phone.  The old rule of calling the house phone so that Suzy can check with her mom?  Gone baby gone. 

• When you offer to burn your favorite teenager a CD? You have officially revealed that you are OLD honey, not that you are cool. FYI.

I'm no longer a teenager, I get it, I get it.  And I have the wrinkles to prove it. But I can still adore those fabulous people that fall in this demographic. 

Well, at least until my own kids catch up.

Jessica McFadden writes daily about fun things to do with children in the area and parenting her three kids at A Parent in Silver Spring.