I have been a parent for going on 19 years, which means I have read my fair share of books and magazines about how to raise healthy, happy, well-adjusted children. Through the years, in my effort to do a good job as a mom - or at least ensure I don't scar my children for life - I have made it a habit to consult the "experts" to learn the best practices on everything from potty training and bedtime routines to nutrition and discipline strategies.

Today, as I scan the headlines, I'm wondering why I never read an article on how to avoid raising a teenager who one day attempts to murder her mother. Someone should have addressed this issue because, according to the media, it seems to be happening more and more.

Not to me, thank goodness. But still.

The blue light from the TV casts a sleepy glow in my bedroom. I climb under the covers, easing my weary shoulders onto the two pillows that provide the perfect angle on which to doze while watching the news. I must be restless because on this night, it takes me almost a full five minutes to nod off. (Like most mothers, I find falling asleep generally isn't a problem. Sleeping through the night? That's another story.)

As I drift off, pundits are talking about Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton's perseverance versus her sense of entitlement. Someone else mentions Sen. Barack Obama's sense of entitlement versus his unstoppable momentum. No one says anything about Sen. John McCain, which in itself may speak to any sense of entitlement he may or may not have. I'm not a pundit, so I wouldn't know.

Anyway, I fall asleep.

"What's your favorite music video?" one of the children at the lunch table asked. A flurry of titles and artists' names was bandied about the sixth-grade section of the cafeteria.

My daughter didn't know about any of them because all of the favorites aired on MTV. Instead, Katie mentioned a music video she had seen on the Disney Channel. After an almost imperceptible pause, the group burst out laughing.

"You are so sheltered," one of the girls taunted.

My friend Jen knows how to get a rise out of me. All she has to do is send an e-mail with a link to a news story about tweens.

Last week, she found an article about the new trend among tween girls to have professional hair treatments such as highlights, lowlights, chemical straighteners and permanent curls. Unlike the home treatments we may have had our moms do for us when we were teens, pre-teenagers today get their moms to plunk down upward of $45 for a salon visit to get streaks of color not found in nature.

According to the salon owner quoted in the article, girls as young as 6 sometimes come in for color streaks in their hair, though she admitted "8 to 12 is more the norm."

If it's 9 p.m. Tuesday, it must be time for dinner. Now if only I had thought to get to the grocery store earlier in the day. Sigh.

The dinnertime challenge around our house isn't just figuring out what to feed the troops — although that's certainly part of it. I have teenagers who still think it's "yucky" to eat tomatoes.

No, like most families, our challenge is to manage our respective schedules in such a way that we're all in the house and hungry at the time I coincidentally serve a hot meal.

The thing about caller ID is that it tells you only where a call originates, not what it's about. So when the phone rings and the name of my children's school appears on the handset, I have no choice but to answer it.

Suppose someone is sick? Or hurt? Or in trouble with the assistant principal?

Maybe it isn't a call concerning one of my children, but the child of a family for whom I'm the emergency contact.

I'm compelled to answer the call, but in retrospect, I wish I had let the answering machine take a message the other day. That way I could have avoided this stint as chaperone at the middle school Activity Night.