Written by Kristina Graham
As a proud member of Generation X, I can confirm that raising kids in the 2020s is HAF — Hard As Fudge (obviously). Not only do we have to worry about what they’re watching on social media, but also what they’re posting. Plus, we have to prevent full-blown electronic addiction. It’s exhausting.
No, Tommy, NO ONE on Instagram needs to see how far you can fling a frisbee from your butt crack. And NO ONE on TikTok is dying to weigh in on whether you should get another perm (spoiler: you look like an unbrushed poodle).
Also, no, Julia Child, you may not post thirst traps in all five new swimsuits you just ordered (on my credit card) because you “can’t decide” between baby pink and limoncello yellow. Here’s why:
- Yes, creepers on the internet can see your posts.
- You are thirteen. Not thirty.
And what do you mean you’re “too tired” for school? You went to bed at 10:30.
What do you mean you were up all night scrolling TikTok?
I’m sorry, what?
No, you cannot take a mental health day because you chose to doom-scroll until 4 a.m.
Too old to “get it,” am I? Listen here, you six-foot-tall man-child — I was pulling all-nighters waiting on dial-up and dodging phone calls just to access the World Wide Web, trying to research Joan of Arc after spending hours in the library with microfiche and card catalogs. So show some respect.
What do you mean, “What’s the World Wide Web?”
Yes, it’s the “www” that starts every URL.
Yes, I had indoor plumbing. Yes, we had cars. No, I did not walk uphill both ways in the snow. Just one way, thank you very much.
Facepalm.
Deep sigh.
You all know the struggle is real.
In all seriousness, the past couple of years raising a sixteen-year-old daughter, a fifteen-year-old son, a thirteen-year-old daughter, and a twelve-year-old daughter — all while my oldest son served in the U.S. Marine Corps — have been eye-opening, to say the least.
Who knew a kid could be expelled from school for posting a video of themselves holding a Nerf gun while filming a music video on Snapchat? Learned that the hard way.
Who knew online bullies could trigger so much anxiety in a pre-teen that she’d develop an eating disorder and begin self-harming? Yep — found that one out the hard way too.
Who knew a mob of kids could organize a Google Doc to share around school and social media with detailed plans on how they were going to jump your daughter at after-school activities — all because she reported a potential school threat? Uh-huh. That one still keeps me up at night.
As a kid, there was no digital record of my stupidity. No videos of me and my friends chugging MD 20/20 in a field behind Justin’s house while the bonfire roared and we puffed stolen Marlboros. No Facebook post to commemorate the night I snuck out my second-story window to go to a party, passed around some Mary Jane, drank warm PBR, and blasted Smashing Pumpkins and Bush.
Also, no cyberbullying. If you had beef, you took it to the park after school, popped out your earrings, pulled your hair into a ponytail, and handled it. (Our bangs stayed rock solid thanks to industrial-grade AquaNet — potential concussion hazard, honestly.)
But now? Flash-forward 30 years and I’m getting an international call from my son in the Marine Corps to inform me that my 13-year-old (who’s supposed to be at a sleepover in our neighborhood) is joyriding around Fort Lauderdale at 2:00 a.m. with his 14-year-old buddy, delivering DoorDash orders to earn gas money.
And how does my deployed son even know this?
Because his little brother posted it on Snapchat.
I. Can’t. Even.
Can you imagine broadcasting your teenage foolishness for the world to see? Thank God there’s no evidence of our youth. (Except maybe that one Polaroid from spring break that still haunts me.)
Yes, we Gen Xers survived on hose water and benign neglect. But now — together with the (ugh) Millennials and even (gasp) the Gen Zs — we have to do better.
Our kids are growing up in an age of relentless screen time and digital dependence. Most of them attended school virtually for years. They live in a world we didn’t — and couldn’t — fully imagine.
So what can we do?
- Get involved.
- Get in their business.
- Install the parental controls.
- Set the screen time limits.
- Monitor the social media.
- And, most importantly — have the conversations.
You know, the ones your parents never had with you. Let them know you’re here to keep them safe, in school, out of jail, and maybe — just maybe — off TikTok at 3 a.m.
Understand that communication has changed. They text, FaceTime, snap, voice chat, and meme each other to death. Talking in person? Gasp. How dare you suggest such a thing, you fossil.
Remember how hard it was to get Grandpa Joe and Grandma Ethel to use a flip phone?
Yeah. We’re Grandpa Joe and Grandma Ethel now.
Take a deep breath. Have some grace.
For yourself. For your kids.
You’ve got this.
Now, if you’ll excuse me —
Alexa, play me some Tupac.
About the Author
Kristina Graham serves as the Grant Administrator and Grant Writer for Children’s Harbor, Inc., where she has spent the past five years securing funding that helps break cycles and transform the lives of children and families in need.
Originally from Rochester, New York, Kristina moved to Boca Raton, Florida, in 2004. She later settled with her family in the Weston–Pembroke Pines–Miramar area, where they lived for over 15 years.
From 2009 to 2016, Kristina was a licensed foster parent in Florida. During that time, she and her family welcomed more than 35 children into their home—ranging from drug-exposed newborns to teenagers facing deep emotional trauma. Their journey through foster care led to the adoption of four children, expanding their family from three to seven. Parenthood through foster care adoption brought both joy and complexity, as each child faced unique challenges including intellectual and physical disabilities, emotional dysregulation, learning differences, and ongoing mental health needs.
With five children now ages 24, 16, 15, 12, and 12, Kristina is deeply immersed in the world of teens and pre-teens. Her days are filled with doctor visits, therapy sessions, IEP meetings, school conferences, and a nonstop rotation of activities like football, cheerleading, band, art, and youth group. Kristina also prioritizes maintaining connections with her children’s biological families—an important part of their healing journey.
In 2022, the family relocated to a home on Lake Hartwell in South Carolina, trading palm trees for pines and embracing the peaceful rhythm of lake life. Though life is rarely quiet, they do their best to enjoy the slower pace and natural beauty of lake living.
Kristina holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Business Administration and wears many creative and professional hats. She freelances as an editor, ghostwrites romance novels, mentors new foster parents, and provides graphic design services to various businesses and charitable organizations. Deeply rooted in her faith and community, Kristina is an active member of her church and regularly volunteers her time to support local initiatives and families in need.
