I hate shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch. The heavy scent of cologne and teen angst makes me want to pass out. 

I don't need much of an excuse to steer my tween to some other mall store that sells overpriced preppy clothes in a loud obnoxious environment that's too dark to see the price tag. And thankfully, the CEO of Abercrombie has handed me and many other mothers a reason to cross the aisle.

Did you know that if you got a serious sunburn before the age of 18, your chances of having a melanoma are doubled? Raise your hand if you got a serious sunburn before you were a teen. Because I sure did! My pale, freckly skin has burned to a crisp more than once. And that freaks me out.

Melanoma can be deadly. And it can be caused by sun exposure. (I admit it, before this post my knowledge of melanoma came from Izzie's experience on Grey's Anatomy.) 

I want to make sure that my kids don't raise their hands when asked the same question about sunburn. So I buy sunscreen all year round and yet, I still find myself confused at the aisle, with 483 different lotions at the drugstore. Is SPF 80 double the strength of 40? Is 15 even worth it?

Luckily, I went to a lunch sponsored by Coppertone where dermatologist Dr. Sonya Cook explained the ins and outs of SPF and sunscreen. 

Anne Frank's memoir holds up today because, even though she was in a surreal situation, she is a relateable teen girl. Anne's amazing diary has transported teens to that Secret Annex where she was cloistered with Peter's family, and of course, to her tragic end at the hands of the Nazis.

Her writing is so fresh and clear that she becomes your friend, your sister, your cousin. She learns to adapt to her harrowing experiences by being a teen girl -- embarrassments, outbursts, crushes and all.

But a mom in Michigan feels that Anne may have been a little too real, and says that a passage in the newest edition, The Diary of A Young Girl: The Definitive Guide is too "pornographic" for her daughter.

I happen to think that there are a lot of reasons to love President Obama and his family. It's not just his politics - there seems to be something really authentic about the way he is around his wife and daughters. If it is a sell job, I am buying.

Recently in a fairly ridiculous interview with Savannah Guthrie on the Today Show, he said that the way he and Michelle are dissuading the girls from getting tattoos is by threatening them:

“What we’ve said to the girls is, ‘If you guys ever decided you’re going to get a tattoo, then mommy and me will get the exact same tattoo in the same place. And we’ll go on YouTube and show it off as a family tattoo,” Obama said. “And our thinking is that might dissuade them from thinking that somehow that’s a good way to rebel.”

Rape, sexual assault, boys, girls. It is on everyone's minds, including the minds of every media outlet available. First there was Steubenville, and then there was our Canadian version in Cole Harbour where Rehtaeh Parsons lived, and died.

We spend a lot of energy talking to girls about how to avoid rape but now, finally, the conversation is turning to talking to boys about respecting and expecting consent. In other words, teaching not to rape. 

But it's not an easy conversation to have and it starts very young. We should be teaching all kids about boundaries -- that the words 'stop' and 'no' have weight. Even professionals have a hard time with it. I asked Marnie Goldenberg, a mother of two, a lawyer, a sexual health educator and the person behind Sexplainer.com to write about how she spoke to her 8-year-old about sexual assault and how she was planting the seeds of informed consent at a young age.

"We are late. Let's go!"

"Who needs to pee?"

"Homework?"

"Get off the screen."

"You guys are addicted to screens. This has to change."

"Fruit or yogurt are your only choices."

"This is not working."

"I love you."

"I really love you."

If my kids were going to make a video about the things I say the most, I am sure those sentences would be in it. But what would be more interesting are the things that I don't realize I say all the time. The things I don't know I repeat ad nauseum.

This teen made a What Parents Say video (following in the Sh*t Everyone Says meme):

You know what I don't want to discuss with my 7-year-old daughter? Victoria's Secret or its little sister PINK. Or sexy underwear in general.

This means we generally avoid walking by PINK (or La Senza) with their psuedo-cute/sexy images featuring girls far too young to have fake boobs spilling out of gingham push-ups. PINK is Victoria's little sister -- aimed at college girls but with appeal to the younger ones as well. It's all pink and cutesy/sexy like Selena Gomez in store form. 

It is 2:00 a.m. and I am trying to quiet down a group of nine and ten-year-old boys who are "sleeping over". They seem to be ignoring my presence and keep on with their riveting discussion:

"Who has a girlfriend?" asks one.

"I'm single and mingling," answers the tiniest of the group. 

"Girls are too expensive," says another.

At this point I have two choices: sink into the wall and keep listening, or speak up and end the conversation before I burst out laughing (or crying). I chose to speak up. After all, it is 2:30 in the morning; my son, the birthday boy, is already asleep, and I have learned from experience that the things I hear at sleepovers can never be unheard. Most importantly, I am afraid of the judgement of some of the boys' mothers. After all, one is a flight attendant for Air Canada and we know how strict they can be.

Skechers is not known for their subtle design. The mid-priced blinged-out shoes are popular with the young girls. But their recent shoe design, and more importantly their marketing decision, is very sketchy and creating a backlash from parents.

I saw a woman at Loblaws yesterday bending over with a baby in a front carrier trying to reach something. She laughed as I helped her, "It's a learned skill," she said.

"Yes." I replied, remembering the soft thump of my baby's head on my chest. "But you blink and then your child is 13." I said. I pointed to him reaching up to grab something from the shelf.

How did he go from the soft, fuzzy baby at my chest, to a fully-formed teen reaching higher than me?

Parent years are like dog years but squeezed. I try, but I can't really put a finger on how long it feels like I have been a parent, but it has been 13 years.

I always feel a little maudlin at the big birthdays, as the time goes by so quickly and I haven't done enough to savour it. And 13 is particularly scary as the TEEN years are here. So with the threats of sex, drugs and rock n' roll (or texting n' video games) hanging over my head, I will offer up the 13 things I want my son to know on his 13th birthday.