I have recently begun to marvel at the differences between the childhood I experienced and the childhood of my children, and I have to admit that I am a bit envious.

I recall the six-hour drive to Emerald Isle for vacation each year, and my options included reading a book or working a crossword puzzle, all the while listening to Johnny Cash sing “Ring of Fire” from the eight track over and over again. I knew if I was just patient, we would eventually make it to our week of fun in the sun.

Today, when we travel, my kids can watch a DVD, play a hand-held video game or, gasp, listen to any song from a selection of hundreds on their iPods, as many times as they want. I had to wait for hours to hear a certain song on the radio, so I could hit the record button. If I happened to be away from the radio and miss the first part or all of the song, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I used to play solitaire with an actual deck of cards. My kids play “Guitar Hero” with an almost-actual guitar and pretend to be rock stars for hours. I remember waiting anxiously for a certain boy to call me, just to have my mom spend an hour on the phone with my aunt, feeling certain he must have tried me while she was on the phone. Call waiting has ended that confidence-saving delusion, but most kids think a “land line” is old school anyway. Most of the kids who are 12 or older (though not mine, much to her sorrow) have a cell phone. They never miss a call, a text or a second call.

In fact, an entire group of them can talk to each other at the same time via instant messaging on a computer. They don’t even use actual words half the time. My “tween” chats with her friends by using acronyms. If something is funny they lol (laugh out loud), if they understand and agree, they use ikr (I know, right?) and these are merely a few more: brb (be right back), bff (best friend forever), w/e (whatever), ttyl (talk to ya later) and lylas (love ya like a sister). They are in too much hurry to even type entire words. It is like a foreign language.

I realize I sound like my rents (parents) who always said we were lucky to have a color TV and ATARI, but let’s face it, my kids are rarely forced to wait for anything. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that on Thursday nights, my TV will realize “Grey’s Anatomy” is new that week and record it for me. I am also thankful that I can work out to the specially selected songs on my iPod playlist, but I wonder if our kids will ever appreciate the satisfaction of waiting patiently and, eventually, getting what they want, or is that notion an over-rated one anyway? Idk (I don’t know).