NOT *Your* Seventeen Magazine....

As anyone who is a regular reader of the blog knows, Child is 12 going on 13; not quite a teenager *yet*, but also not a little kid. In many different areas, I have noted that the age range of about 10-12 is a sort of island unto itself.

When Child was about 7, she was fascinated by the American Girl Dolls. Except for the high price tags on their nicely-coiffed heads, they were a pretty wholesome, and acceptable, choice. Heck, the American Girl company even put out a magazine to sort of compliment the dolls, and the idea of celebrating "girls just being girls". I previewed one of the mags, and thought it would be a lot of fun for Child to get in the mail (yes, the thrill of getting mail). So, for about three years, our mailbox was graced with this periodical on a bimonthly basis.

Two years ago, at age 10, Child sold-down her entire American Girl Doll collection at rummage. I guess that was the first clue that mags with cutesy art projects, juvenile fictional articles, and pollyannaish posters were probably on their way out. What did she do with her sizable proceeds, you ask? She ordered a bunch of stuff from PB TEEN... Yep, this was definitely the memo being sent; time to part ways with the girlishness of it all!

When I was child's age, we had two magazines to choose from as 'cool 12 year-olds': YM (Young Miss) and Seventeen. I eagerly devoured both, as a 12 year-old can't have too much information on how *do* puberty succesfully. Lots of info on zits, 80s fashions, 80s hair, and (giggle, giggle) how to get *that* guy to notice you. Pretty harmless, but also pretty brainless; but, heck, that's why girls sit in Middle School for 7 hours/day...

So, while "nerding" (hanging out in the local library with actual books, not DVDs), I decided to check out Seventeen magazine again; this time as a possible "read" for my daughter. I nestled down into my comfy upholstered library chair, and dug in...

Apparently, zits and fashions are still relevant topics for Child's age group- cool, I could dig that. Hmmmm.... table of contents stated that there was some relationship info.... that could be of interest (having read alll of the "Dear Jake" columns conscienciously, myself, once upon a time)! Time to turn to page 76....

After looking at the content on the page, I closed the mag to make sure that I was, indeed, reading Seventeen magazine... When I was 12, the relationship advice *I* read did not involve a multi-step quiz/worksheet to determine how far to go with your boyfriend. I also wasn't made privy to the *grooming habits* of the adolescent male. AND I *never* would have dreamed of sharing my story of how I tried to play footsy under the table with my BF, but instead ran my foot up the pant leg of BFs Father... Gag me with a spoon already!

When I was Child's age, info like that could not be obtained from a *teen* mag; rather, one had to actively seek-out the "good stuff". One Spring, my Mom brought me and my friend, Shari, along on one of her conferences. We were staying in a resort/hotel with a pool, so Shari and I occupied ourselves daily by swimming, and then hanging out in the gift shop. One afternoon, one of us discovered a copy of Playgirl (I will not name the corrupting influence);woo hoo- we weren't in "Teen Kansas" anymore! Having an idea that what we were looking at was a bit wrong, we hid the Playgirl inside of another (read: more appropriate ) mag, and just stared (and stared... and stared). Unfortunately, the Clerk became suspicious of us (could it have been all of the giggling/red faces/locked eyeballs), and came over to see what we were up to. We quickly disposed of the evidence, purchased two mini rubix cube keychains, and high-tailed it back to the kid-friendly pool.

My education continued the next Summer at sleepaway camp at age 13. Most of us girls were concerned about having to deal with our periods (and most of us had forgotten to bring along "stuff"), and also coming up with "code words" for body parts, as to not corrupt the younger campers (we came up with "sboobs"!!!). One girl, however, was quite a bit ahead of the rest of us. At the ripe 'ol age of 13, she had a *boyfriend* and happily shared her advanced knowledge with us. As she elaborated on things that I was in no way ready to be made aware of, I focused really hard on my two Cabbage Patch dolls waiting for me at home and tried to wish myself away from there (there's no place like home, there's no place like home..).

Child has had the benefit of growing up in a home where either Husband or I will answer any of her questions; there are no topics that you only go to Mommy for, or to Daddy for. Much to my chagrin, our local Public School has even stepped-in to make sure that Child has all the pertinent information. Until this year she pronounced the school curriculum to be a bit redundant. Time to hop aboard the HGD superhighway, folks!

This year in Human Growth and Development Class, Child announced that the kids were divided into same-sex groups. Yep, I thought, that sounds about right. Can ya imagine my surprise when Child informed me that the girls got a full play-by-play about the boys' puberty changes, and the boys about the girls' changes? As If this wasn't shocking enough to me, the darn school introduced a concept (in order to keep this blog at the PG level, let's say that it is a subject that Cialis discusses... you with me?...), but then didn't explain it. Driving home after school, Child wanted to know what all of this *stuff* was about. Ummm... ooookaaaay..... I was cool teaching her about her own changes, but I wasn't quite ready to explain the boys, errrr, developments yet (Thanks, WFBMS). Luckily, I had the road to look at (instead of my daughter's grossed-out face), and did my best...

Obviously, our kids are going to be learning quite a bit along theses lines from peers/school. It was nice to be able to escape into one of those mags, and just deal with frivolous things. I guess I am just nostalgic for the glossy, and by today's standards, innocent, teen mags of my youth. As corny as the 80s were, they were definitely not as *fast* of times as today. No temptation for this Mom to grab one of the dozens of subscription cards inside of Seventeen... I'm sure that Child will eventually see Seventeen, but it won't have the "Mommy stamp of approval" that being delivered to our mailbox would suggest. Child's interest in the macabre of Stephen King is starting to look better and better by the day...