Even though I grew up in the years when landlines were still the norm and having one computer in the house was a rarity, tech has always been an important part of my relationship with my mom. As a kid, I remember her getting hooked on Sim Tower (just like I did) and teaching me how to create my first "magazines" using Microsoft WordArt.
During middle school, the paradigm shifted: Tech became a place to retaliate in typical, hormone-raging teenage fashion. My AIM account (may it RIP) was littered with away messages like "The parental unit is making me rake leaves — AGAIN" and "Can't believe I'm only allowed on here for an hour."
Nowadays, that early equilibrium has returned. I happily field questions about how to share photos and why people on Twitter care about Kanye, and she always answers my FaceTime calls when I need a vote of confidence.