Parenting Grown Children: What Dr. Spock Forgot to Tell Us

Money Matters: It's okay to let your grown children treat you.

It was my birthday, and I was visiting Uber son and his family. My daughter-in-law proposed a lovely gift: A pedicure for two--me and my 7-year-old granddaughter. What a great idea. It would be her first. But my main thought was, how can I maneuver things so I pay for it. I didn't want my daughter-in-law to have to foot the bill. I didn't want to burden them with an additional charge. 

This was a little bit crazy on my part. They are, after all, on pretty firm ground financially--the double pedicure at a suburban strip mall outlet wasn't going to break the bank. So why couldn't I just sit back and enjoy?

I was finally forced to. When my daughter-in-law dropped us off for our pedicure, she pre-paid the bill. I'm glad I kept my "I want to pay" neurosis to myself. It was a perfect gift and a memorable experience to have this precious 7-year-old sitting with me while we picked out the nail polish color we'd try. We were going to do the same color so we had a lot of intense discussion about various shades of red and orange. We both dismissed the idea of blue or green. And then we sat side by side in big lounge chairs while we had our feet bathed and washed, our toe nails cut and polished. I could see how tentatively she sat on the edge of her chair, just a little bit worried about what was coming next. And I was able to sit right next to her, knowing I was right there to reassure her if something seemed strange or scary.

What a special gift. My grandchild and I still chat on the phone to compare nicks in our polish. And I've finally gotten over the feeling that my grown children shouldn't treat me. I was perpetuating an out-of-date reality--that they couldn't afford it. It's healthy for them to treat me. And it was wonderful gift for me--both the pedicure and the recognition that they were financial grown ups.

Money Matters: Facing the loss of their legacy

"It was," she says, "a very hard conversation to have." My friends DeeDee and Mel had to tell their  daughters that there was no longer an inheritance for them.

DeeDee and Mel had invested the lion's share their hard-earned money with Bernie Madoff. Now it was gone. Gone, too, was the lifestyle they were used to. They still had their 401ks--much diminished though they were by the 2008 crash--and social security. But, where they were used to being generous with their grown daughters--"we always liked sharing with them what we had accumulated"--that is no longer possible.

"When we told them," DeeDee says, "they were wonderful. They said, 'Mom, Dad, we don't need your money. If you need anything, let us know.' "

"As a parent," DeeDee goes on, "that's a very hard thing to digest. You always think it will be the other way--that you can give to them, that you'll be there to help them out if they need it. This is a whole new revelation. How do you process it? It's very difficult. We seem to be surviving."

Her bottom line: "Leveling with the kids was hard but I'm glad we did it."

Skype Me Up, Scottie: Visiting face to face with the grown kids and the grandkids.

I may be a little late to be an enthusiast, but I've discovered Skype. Had heard about it, of course. But had no real reason to use it. Now paterfamilias and I do. Alpha daughter and her family are living in a country that is an ocean--and a six-hour time difference--away. But with Skype, we "call" each other through our computers and can both see and hear each other. It makes it feel like we're right there in our daughter's apartment, sitting in her kitchen, looking out her kitchen window and chatting over a cup of tea. Our granddaughter sometimes sits still long enough for a conversation. But often she just dances by, says hi, and dances off screen. Or plays the piano for us. Our grandpup also makes her presence known.

Alpha daughter has also used Skype on her laptop to give us a tour of her apartment and a closer view of the courtyard outside her window. When we go on vacation with our son and his family next week, we hope my little notebook-laptop will Skype us a visit--the cousins can see each other and tell each other whatever silly things small children manage to convey via a computer screen.

Other friends are further up the evolutionary ladder on their Skype. One, whose granddaughters live on the other coast of the U.S., says she reads stories to the youngest kids--turning the book to show them the pictures. Has anyone tried checkers? Or another game? Or found another inventive way to use computer-phone technology to bridge the distance between our homes here and their homes way over there?

Grandparents and Birthdays: How many visits is not enough visits?

Is there such a thing as grandparent overkill? Or, for that matter, under kill? Our friends who have two sons and six grandchildren living in two different cities have yet to miss a grandchild's birthday--even if it means flying across the country for a weekend after they've just spent a week vacationing with that  family. Sometimes it's only the grammie who goes, but at least one of them is there to help blow out the candles for each and party with every grandchild.

It floors me. Like our friends, we have two children and four grandchildren living in two different cities far from us. We have missed several birthdays--in fact, we've probably missed more than we've made. Physically. But we hope we've added to the general birthday excitement in each household by marking the occasion with bouquets of balloons (florists deliver!), presents or promises (always kept) to shop together for a bike or go to the circus together. We've sung songs on the telephone and tried to make a fuss in a variety of ways. But we have not usually been physically present. Sometimes it was by choice--other obligations got in the way. Sometimes we weren't invited--birthdays were celebrated by a weekend train trip to a city with a great zoo. Or sometimes it was too much hassle--the celebrant and her family were spending a week or two in a city where they once lived and partying with friends she'd met at pre-school there.

Do I sound like I'm making excuses? Paterfamilias doesn't think so. When the subject comes up for discussion--should we be there for the birthday party--I feel faint at the thought of all that noise and the commotion of a house filled with dozens of children I don't know and of how little help I would be. Paterfamilias likes to say, "I still have my own life to live. I'll be there if they need me." Do birthday's qualify as "need me?" Are we--make that me--letting the grandchildren down? Is there a model for what a grandparent should do about birthdays?

These children are precious to us, and yet, a birthday weekend is a hectic one. Lots of preparation and excitement about all those friends coming over or taking all those friends some place special. The kids get keyed up. The parents are busy, busy, busy with preparations and overseeing children and making sure no one goes home crying and that everyone gets a goodie bag. We don't get to spend quality time with anyone--unless it's our child's in-laws, the other grandparents, who've made their way to the birthday weekend as well.

Paterfamilias was away on business when the 4th birthday for one of our grandchildren rolled around. I wasn't going to go until my son hinted that it would be really special if I came, that a 4th birthday was a big deal for this child. So I packed my bags and got on a flight.. And when I arrived, my granddaughter took my hand and walked into the house with me. "My house," she told me solemnly, "is your house when you're here." Quite a reward for showing up.

Money Matters: Assuring a grown child's safety net, one Roth IRA at a time.

As grown children move into their career-finding years, they don't all prosper equally--in a material sense. Some can use a helping hand; others are doing just fine, thank you very much. So how do you deal with the equity issues that raises? Can you hand out needed cash to the one in need and not give an equal amount to the siblings, even if they have no need for it?

Many families I've talked to about this come to one of two approaches: One is: If you give to one, you give to all. The other: To each according to his or her need. That's the route Paterfamilias and I have followed in our family. Recently, friends told us how that approach played out in their attempts to make sure each child would have an adequate savings base to fall back on--at retirement or if a financial crisis struck.

Here's what they've done: When each of their three children started to earn money--no matter how little--the parents insisted they open a Roth IRA account. (A Roth IRA is like a super-advantaged IRA. It's funded with after-tax dollars but allows for tax-free growth of earnings and withdrawals.)

In the beginning, the parents helped all three meet the maximum contribution level. Then, as each child prospered--or labored at worthy but low-paying jobs--the parents adjusted their Roth subsidies accordingly. They have not, as yet, discussed the varying contributions they make with their children, but they should--just to avoid any misunderstandings on why the big brother [a social worker] gets lots of help and baby sisters [a lawyer and an investment banker] no longer get any.

The quick answer is this: They are proud of their son's decision to work with the less-advantaged. They recognize that his work will never pay well and that he does not currently have the wherewithal to put money aside for retirement savings. This is their way of saying, stick with it. We'll help you set up a safety net--with a little assist from a favorable tax law.

Setting a Deadline: When grown children move back home, how long should they stay?

When her son's business crashed, Sheri invited him and his family--wife, two toddler-aged children--to put it all behind them . She encouraged them to move across the country and into her house until they got back on their feet. Two and a half years ago, they accepted the invitation. They're still living with Sheri.

"Friends asked me if I put a deadline on it," Sheri says. "Did I tell them they had a few months or a year or something like that?"

She did not. "If it had been just my son or just my son and daughter-in-law, I might have put a time limit on it. But when there are two children, it's different. Besides, it is not as though they wanted to prolong the stay. As Sheri puts it, "I have sympathy for my daighter-in-law.  Who at 33 wants to come live with your mother-in-law? I have been cognizant of that."

And then there was Sheri's past history: "My first husband passed away when I was 35 and I had three  children. My parents and my sister were there for me. My mother never said, "We can’t always help you." So there's a unique bond because of what happened. I'm giving  back to my son the way my mother gave to me."

Even if there were no emotional reasons, hard economic times make it trickier to set a deadline. And certainly, Sheri's son and daughter-in-law faced harsh times, moving as they did from the fire of Florida into the frying pan of California--two states that have suffered inordinately from the economic downturn. Besides, Sheri wanted her son to not just get a job but a career-line job. "I told him to take time to get his feet on the ground," she says. "You can't put a time limit on that."

In a few months, the family of four will be moving to a rented house an hour's drive from Sheri's. Both adults now have good jobs. Although there were difficult times and Sheri is looking forward to having her house, her husband and her life to herself again, she is not sorry she did it. Friends badgered her about not setting a time limit, but she doesn't see why she should have. Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was uncomfortable. But she had a goal in mind--not just employment but good employment--for her son and her daughter-in-law. And she was fortunate enough to have the means to afford the luxury of time it took for her son to get back on his feet. She can count the 2 1/2 years but she has never toted up the cost of the gift in terms of money. Do her other children? That's another issue.

Money Matters: Who pays for what when the kids move back home

When Shari's son, daughter-in-law and two children moved into her house, they had, financially speaking, nothing. The cookie business they started together had failed--despite infusions of money from the family. So when Shari and her husband Hal opened their home as a refuge--"a lifeline" she calls it--money was an issue. "We could have subsidized their rent," Shari says of the decision to have the family move in with her, "but their needs were so far above and beyond that. They needed food, medical insurance, car insurance, clothes--the works." Shari and Hal were fortunate to have the wherewithal to pick up the tab for the big things, but what to do about "walking around money" while the son and daughter-in-law were job hunting?

At first, the four adults held Sunday night meetings: to go over any unmet needs or frustrations; to keep Shari and Hal up to date on job interviews and other employment prospects. Once it became clear what some of the day-to-day cash needs were, Hal came up with a plan. Every Monday morning they would leave Shari's son a check that was big enough to cover lunches, car fare, outings with the kids, other incidentals for both the son and his wife. That way, the younger couple wouldn't have to ask every time they needed something. This was important to Shari: "Money can be very divisive," she says. "It can be a wedge." She didn't want her son to feel demeaned by his circumstances, that he had to ask his Mommy for money to meet a friend for lunch or take his kids to the movies. And there was this: she didn't want either her son or daughter-in-law to rush into a job that wasn't on a career path.

It helps when you can afford to be as generous as Shari and Hal were. But the important point, to me, was not so much how much they could give and how many bills they could cover, but the open way they communicated. Talking things out--being up front about even the most personal money issues--can ease a tricky financial situation. And for Shari, setting a clear goal--jobs for her children that were on a career path--helped her formulate a plan she could live with and not resent.

Share the Wealth: To help our children now or to leave a legacy later?

Paterfamilias and I have been incredibly lucky. We've had good jobs and rewarding careers--to the point where we have been able to set aside enough padding for our retirement--and a little bit more. It's that "little bit more" than wiggles and jiggles inside my brain and bank account.

If we have "a little bit more," why not share it with our grown children in the here and now? Not to spoil them but to step in when there's a crisis or a need. And to let hem know in advance that should they need help, we've got their back. If we can afford it. We see nothing wrong in that. But recently, I've been doing some research on the question and that has raised some doubts about how good a practice this is.

One book by a psychologist suggests that to keep on offering money both spoils grown children and infantilizes them. It's a way to control the kids by keeping the apron strings tied to money. He suggests we who offer cash are suffering from affluenza, that our financial parenting has run amok.

I took all that to heart, but then i read an online story that interviewed several psychologists who all tsk-tasked the idea of helping kids out with money. When questioned about their own personal practices, however, all admitted to being guilty of helping out or indulging their grown children.

is this a case where common sense and best psychiatric advice differ?

And does it all come down to what we're comfortable with, what makes sense for our particular children and their behavior. If they aren't dependent and don't make constant demands and suggest they expect your help indefinitely, then why not help out on an as-needed basis? Isn't this a case of no harm no foul?

Lessons from Grown Children: Their careers open us up to new ideas and fields of interest.

I am having coffee with Jeannie--she's a friend of a friend that I haven't seen in a while. We are catching up by swapping tales of what our kids are up to. Her son is graduating from college with a major in costume design. Neither she nor the child’s father is into anything even remotely artistic. She’s an occupational therapist;  he’s an accountant. But thanks to her son's interest, she’s learned a lot in the past few years about what goes into bringing a play from script to stage. She’s gone to New York with her son to see shows on and off Broadway—something she never did before. Her son hopes to get into a special internship program in New York City that will give him a boost up his career path.

Her story reminds me of the days when our children lived at home and developed interests outside of ours. Alpha Daughter played the piano competitively; Uber son swam in a league of community swimming pools. We learned a lot about the back stroke [his specialty] and upper body development; about Mozart Rondo alla Turka competitions and how the pianist has to concentrate the mind as well as the fingers. We miss those universes now that our little participants have grown up and moved on. But like Jeannie's son, their careers have taken Paterfamilias and I into fields quite diverse from our own. This time around, we’re still standers-by who, once again, get to learn all the fascinating details of a new and different universes—only this time, our children are our teachers. The care we have to take is not to be a know-it-all. It's easy enough--it may be the only way to connect--to apply our general wisdoms [and prejudices] to their fields, but we have to do so with care and tact. Otherwise, it's another minefield.  

Grandparent Rivalry: The secret envy

It's almost embarrassing: Like sibling rivalry,  grandparents can work up a good case of jealousy of the other grandparents--or anxiety that we will be loved less than they are by the little ones.

I've blogged about this before: Grandparents who live far from their children envy the grandparents who live closer to them. Envy might be a pleasant term for what can be a raw and rivalry-driven emotion--and one that can be destructive if the grown kids get wind of it.

How competitive can it get? A Canadian article put it this way: "Even the sweetest, most devoted grandparents can get competitive. How does one set feel if the other set of grandparents lives closer to the grandkids? Who gets to see them more often? Who do the grandchildren phone first when they get a good report card -- or when they get home from summer camp?"

And there's more: "Factors like the number of grandchildren, physical distance and differences in socio-economic status can exacerbate the competition. If, say, there's only one grandchild, competition between grandparents is usually stiffer. Grandparents who live out of town tend to be jealous of those who live closer to their grandchildren, and grandparents whose children's in-laws are wealthier than they are may worry the grandchildren will prefer the grandparents who supply the more lavish gifts."

So, true love is not easy, even when it should be. There are some words of advice if you're suffering through the pangs of jealousy. California psychiatrist Arther Kornhaber says don't bother feeling guilty about having jealous feelings. It's how you handle them that counts.

For those worried that the wealthier set of grandparents will have more sway over their grandchild's love, Kornhaber says it isn't so. "Grandparents need to understand that everyone makes their own contribution. What children value most are basic human values like love, caring and being there when needed. Time together and undivided attention supersedes everything else, including money," he said.

There can even be benefits to being the out-of-town grandparents who don't see the grandchild as often as the other set of grandparents do. Coming to visit and staying in the grown child's home lets grandparents experience their grandchildren's lives in a way the grandparents who live around the corner do not.

Refilling the Empty Nest: It's summer and the college kids come home

Friends report that their youngest child is returning home from college for the summer. Their son lives on the other coast, so it's only the daughter coming back to the nest--and that only temporarily. An email spelled out how they feel about having her at home:

"Our daughter is home for the summer which is balm to our souls. As we've discussed, it's not like our lives are empty without her. Our work is endless, we really like one another's company as much as is possible, and we've begun to reconnect with old friends, whom we had left behind in favor of spending time with our children. So, life with kids in the house is full and happy. That said, having our daughter here is like discovering that the rooms are full of sunlight and rainbows that we had been missing."

The Pain of Parting: A Child Is Moving Far Away

I was whining to a friend: Alpha Daughter leaves for a year abroad in three weeks. After spending several months being excited about all the opportunities a year in another country means--for her career, for her family--I am faced with the moment of truth. She is packing her bags and I have an oh-so-heavy feeling inside, a "when will I see you again" kind of heaviness. Paterfamilias does not seem to connect with my pain, I tell my friend. He says, "you'll go visit whenever you feel like--hop a plane and you're there whenever you want to be." I say it's not the same as being able to pick up the phone and chat or, hearing there's a sudden need for your services, getting there the next day. Distance is a fearsome factor. And it also means that on any visit, I am bound to overstay my welcome or, if not my welcome, my comfort level.

My friend has been through this drama. Her daughter lived abroad for several years. I figured she would understand the feelings and fears. And she did--with this pragmatic twist:

"I feel your pain about a distant daughter," she wrote in an email. "but I have to side with [Paterfamilias] on this one.  Getting to Germany is not a big deal and if you go every three or four months, it will suffice.  When my daughter was in Israel with the first grandchild, I went every three months and the flight was 12-13 hours. I would stay for five days, get adjusted to the time change, then board the plane again. It was awful. And sort of unnatural: no contact and then too much. But Germany is easier.  Between email and visits, you should be fine. I shouldn't be so smug. I now have my grandchildren less than 30 minutes away and I see them every week."

Money Matters: The long arm of parents who help their kids.

"We are spending so much money on our kids," a friend tells me. "They need to be rescued every once in a while."

The kids in question are hers from her first marriage and his from his first marriage. One of her sons went through a painful and devastating divorce, including court battles over child custody and support. He lost his job. My friend, her husband, her other son, the father of her son and an uncle all pitched in to help the divorced son. It took several years before he was back on his feet. And now his eldest son--one of my friend's three grandchildren--was ready for college. He had to choose not the best school he got into but the least expensive one. My friend and her husband dipped into their retirement savings to pay tuition--her son couldn't afford it and neither the ex-wife nor her parents (the other grandparents) were willing to help out.

My friend could live with the choice of the lesser school. That's life. It made her angry that the other grandparents weren't willing to help. That's life, too, but more emotional, verging as it does on fairness.

Now, she's got another financial anxiety: Her stepson--a man in his late 40s--has always been self supporting and single. And has always been shy around women. So, when he started dating a woman his age and then announced he was getting married, everyone was thrilled. But the new wife came with old and huge debts from her life with a former boyfriend. The new husband is helping his wife pay off those I.O.U.s--the credit card debt keeps compounding like crazy--and now everyone's helping out. It's another drain on my friend's dwindling retirement resources.  

"It never ends," she says. "It seems like one of our kids is always having a money crisis." A few years ago--just before he retired--my friend's husband paid off the mortgage on their house. "So we are lucky," she says. "What would we do--how could we help our kids--if we had a $2,000 a month mortgage payment to meet?" It also raises the question of how long you help out your grown kids. When does the rescue line end? And maybe even more to the point: How do you define crisis?

Does it help to know she--and by extension we--are not alone? The Brits are experiencing similar pressures. Here's a news story I just came across. In Great Britain, "millions of grandparents are cutting back their spending because they feel under pressure to fund their grandchildren." Research also found that the majority of grandparents regularly spent cash from their retirement savings on clothing, toys and other treats for their grandchildren. Others helped pay for essentials, such as shoes and school uniforms, to help their own children balance their finances.

Here was a key finding that hit home: "Although some children did ask their parents for financial help, much of the pressure to provide for grandchildren comes from the grandparents themselves." 

Re-filing the Nest: An economist looks at the phenomenon

While families struggle with the financial and emotional impact of having grown children move back home--and take up residence in their old bedroom--there are some interesting macroeconomic effects.

Here's how a Mark Thoma, a well-respected economist, blogged about the implications of re-nesting. First he looks at a phenomenon he calls "Family as insurance:"

The parental home as unemployment insurance

"It is well known that in Spain and especially Italy, people in their twenties and even thirties stay with their parents until they find a job, and they often wait for the "perfect" job. This looks like an unemployment insurance with infinite duration with substantial moral hazard, which has lead to sky high youth unemployment rates in Europe.

Greg Kaplan is documenting that something similar is happening in the United States. ...many of those who do not attend college return home during unemployment spells, much like college students return home over the Summer. This analysis is very nicely done with an estimated structural model that features a repeated game between children and altruistic parents. In particular, this allows us to understand why the savings rate of young people is so low. As they have the option of returning to their parents, they see no need to build up any precautionary savings. This means also that programs like unemployment insurance have little impact for them."

Then Thoma comes up with his kicker: "Just thinking of all things parents do to provide the insurance, yet minimize the moral hazard problem. The last place I would have wanted to live at that age was with my parents, and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual."

Health Coverage: Even if they're married, you can help.

Maybe it's because it was such a sore point for paterfamilias and me: When our children graduated from college and set forth to various parts of the country to figure out what to do with their lives, neither of them figured they needed health insurance. Never thought about it. We, of course, did, and we had to scour plans in the states where they had wandered to find catastrophic coverage for them--to make sure that if something terrible happened, a doctor and hospital wherever they were would take them in and that we wouldn't be stripped of our assets when the bills came due.

I blogged about this a while ago. The big news then was that a few states were allowing parents to keep their grown kids on their health insurance policies until those kids were 25 or 26 years old. Now, it's easier. The health reform law that finally inched and sighed and crept through Congress and onto President Obama's desk this year has important provisions for parents of young adult children. Not only can we keep our adult children on our health insurance plan until those children are 26, we can keep them there even if the kids get married. However, if your child's employer decides to offer coverage, all bets are off--your child can no longer stay on your policy.

The other news? Some states are expanding that age-of-coverage to 30. Given the current employment picture--hard to find a job; growing trend toward contract work, which doesn't offer health coverage--that could be invaluable.

Boomerangers Move Back In: The New Yorker cover says it all

A picture is worth a 1,000-word posting. Amidst the joy and celebration of graduation time, the May 24 New Yorker cover has a message for all whose grown children are heading home after getting their higher-ed degrees. There he stands, the returning son, hanging his PhD diploma on the wall of his childhood bedroom wall--right near the rock n' roll poster and sports trophy. Note in lower left corner, the suitcase and in lower right, the box of college paraphernalia. While the magazine usually comes up with an archly clever title for its cover art, this one leans more to the simple and direct: "Boomerang Graduation."

Well, for those going through it, the cover art makes it clear: You are not alone. So does the Shouts & Murmurs column, "Your New College Graduate: A Parents' Guide"  Here's an excerpt:

"How do I teach my college graduate independence?

Good question! Experts have differing opinions on the subject. Some suggest a “firm” approach: assigning housework, banning marijuana, requesting politeness, etc. Others suggest a “liberal” approach: cooking and cleaning for them, praising their “poems,” etc. Unfortunately, neither approach works."

The Big Hurt: When our grown children won't talk to us

It's the great What If and the core fear of parents of adult children: What If our grown children cut us off--wouldn't answer our phone calls, emails or letters? Just wanted to have nothing to do with us?

This traumatic issue is not something I've dealt with in this blog--it's too deep for someone without therapeutic training. But there was a piece in the New YorkTimes recently that explored the issue briefly and relied on the wisdom of Joshua Coleman, a psychologist who has been through the trauma himself. The estrangement, Coleman says, appears to be happening more often, even among families where there has been no obvious cruelty or cause such as drug abuse or addiction. "This is not a story of parents who have made egregious mistakes," he says. "It's about parents who were good parents, who made mistakes that were certainly within normal limits."

If you're suffering through this trauma, check out some of the Web sites of professionals like Coleman--there are also a number of online chat rooms devoted to the subject--and take heart: Time and patience, persistent effort and small contacts, can pay off. That is how, Coleman reports, he was able to slowly repair his relationship with his daughter.

Missing the Kids: Grown children move away but are not forgotten

For those of us of a certain age--especially those of us whose children have grown up enough to leave the nest--there are some pithy, witty and heart wrenching observations of our condition in a new book,The Three Weissmans of Westport.

The book is not about empty nesters--though one of the characters, Annie, is one. It does, however, have a lot to say about that empty feeling, and the author, Cathleen Schine, manages to offer insights with words that fly along the page--even while they point a dagger at the heart. Take this one, describing Annie's sadness--she's a 50-ish single-mom--that her grown sons could not come home for the Christmas holiday, which she was spending with her mother and sister.

"For the first time that she could remember, Annie felt alone, truly and desperately alone. Even when her husband had disappeared and she had been left to fend for herself with two little boys, there had been the two little boys. Now they were gone, too. They loved her and called her and sent her e-mails and would still snuggle up to her to be petted when they were in the mood, but they were men, and though they would always be at the center of her life, she was no longer at the center of theirs."

Home Visit: A special welcome for the grandchildren

Uber son's family of five live in a city some 400 miles north of us. So it makes more sense for Paterfamilias and I to visit them, then it does for my son and daughter-in-law to drag three small children back to the family manse. Which is why it has been almost two years since they've been to our house for a weekend. 

Rarity has its charms--and inspirations. My store of toys and amusements for children were in sore need of an update--the two "big" Grands have outgrown the Matchbox cars and play dough. Instead of just laying in a store of stuff for them to do--just-in-case rainy day amusements--I decided to try a variation on something I had read about and posted a while ago: Creating a special bag of stuff for each child--anything from a funny toothbrush to a word-game book to a box of crayons.

It turned out to be a more interesting way to shop for stuff--thinking about each child and what he or she  would like. I ended up packing each bag with a few small items--from colored drinking cups with built in straws (one for each of them) to assorted small puzzles, a small board game, stencil kits and other art supplies. Bottom line: It didn't cost a lot of money but they seemed thrilled with having their own bag of tricks to rifle through. Especially the 2-year-old: She felt quite grown up being treated as an equal--especially since she got a page of stickers all to herself. 

Home Visit: A son and his family come home for a weekend

I wake up this morning to the sounds of my house. All the beds in it were full last night: Uber son and his family have come home for a weekend visit.

It is an hour before I usually get up, but I hear my toddler Grand. She woke up in a cheery mood and is now pattering around the house--her mom in tow--having a babbling conversation with herself. It's such a happy sound--like a soft, lilting song. Then I hear the "big kids." They are up and around and leave a more definitive step on the stairs.

Now they are all in the kitchen. I can hear cereal plopping into bowls, milk being poured and the chatter, chatter, chatter of children in the morning--a little tiff over something or other but otherwise breakfast is being wolfed down while I pull myself out of bed.

My house has come alive. It is stretching and expanding to shelter and care for them. Me, too.

The Power of "No:" Over-indulgence has its limits.

Our grown children may have great expectations about the goods and services we can--and often do--provide. That's' why, a friend says, she felt liberated when she said "no" to one of her children.

It may sound trivial--and clearly this is a parent and grandparent who enjoys indulging her children--but she has her limits. She had arranged for grown daughter and her three children to join her and grandpop for a long winter weekend at a resort in Florida. The grown child pays her family's air fare to Florida but my friend and grandpop foot the resort bill--room, meals, entertainment. They can afford it, and it gives them pleasure. One vacation day, my friend, daughter and granddaughter went shopping. As they passed a pricey children's boutique--the kind only grandmas shop at--my friends daughter told her daughter to go in there and pick out something,that grandma will buy it for her. And that's when my friend said No. "It was a tiny little thing, but I felt liberated. I was finally able to say, 'I'll do this, but not that.' " When she said no, my friend adds, "Chicken little did not fall from the sky."

The question for many of us is along the same line: How many times do we pull out the credit card or send the check because our kids make us feel it's expected? Even when we can afford it, are there times when we should say "no," when enough is enough?  

The Just Say No extends to matters beyond money. When we're expected to babysit--even tho we have other plans; when they want to come by for a visit--even though it's inconvenient. Many of us drop everything--cancel plans with friends, rearrange our schedules. Sometimes we should--our kids genuinely need us and the loving service only we can provide. But sometimes there's a feeling that they are taking advantage of us, that we still have an active life we're leading and can't drop everything just to make things more convenient for them. As my friend says, "It's a very interesting process to begin to do this."

Money Matters: Helping kids with big purchases

When it comes to money, we're all over the place--tight-fisted to spendthrift; controlling to reckless; obsessed to careless. When it comes to our kids, it's even worse. It gets emotional, often reflecting where we've come from in our own lives.

Here's what I mean: A friend of a friend is a very successful and high-profile lawyer--a millionaire many time over with a big house and many expensive cars to his name. And he did it by himself: Started with almost nothing and slogged his way through to his current position of power and affluence. That, at least, is the routine he has always given his sons when he tells them he will not help them out financially--no loans to buy a car, a house or pay unexpected expenses. When they were heading to college, he insisted they work their way through. His message: They should work just as hard he did. He doesn't owe them anything.

This is not to suggest he isn't a loving father. But he draws a tight fiscal line and has yet to cross it. I've written before about those of us who prefer to use our hard-won money to help our kids out--to see them enjoy in the here and now the relief our money can bring. But we also have friends who say, we put our kids through college and that's it; we don't intend to help them with anything else--not that they can't afford it; it's a principle. It's an issue I've visited before on this blog.

It may get down to something as basic as our life experiences. If our parents were generous, we may have that model and want to be generous as well. Or, if our parents were fiscally restrained, we may decide we don't want to follow that path. Or perhaps they were generous to one of our siblings and that brother or sister squandered the money and our inheritance as well. We might want to be more cautious in the help we offer our children or the strings we attach to that help.

If you have the money to do help your grown children, where do you draw the line? Or are you all or nothing? Some things--help with paying off college loans, perhaps--but not others? And how do you come to your philosophy of giving?

Re-Nesting: Togetherness across the generations

One big happy (or unhappy) family is taking on new meaning. Older moms and dads are moving in with their adult children, or the grown kids are moving in with them and those adult children have children of their own. One house: two or three generations. It's called multi-generational housing. And economists tie it to both the down-turned economy and health needs.

It's growth is for real. According to a January 2010 survey of its real estate agents, Coldwell Banker reports that in the past year, there has been a notable rise in the number of home buyers looking to purchase homes to accommodate more than one generation of their family. Nearly 70 percent of the sales agents see economic conditions accelerating that trend in the coming year.

Here's how the survey breaks down the reasons behind the multi-generational housing purchases: 39 percent give financial reasons as the number one driver; 29 percent point to health issues; 6 percent cite a strong family bond.

The emotional issues that tie into such togetherness can be, as comedian Sarah Silverman might say, "beyond beyond." On a more practical level, though, the Coldwell Banker survey has a tip for those preparing to be multi-generational homesteaders:

"Extended families purchasing a home together should consider signing a written contract outlining everything from finances to chores and childcare. Each family should assess their situation individually and find a plan that works best for them."

Parenting Advice from Experts: Seven tips on getting along with your grown child

Sometimes our relationship with a grown child sours. Maybe it's just going through a bad patch right now; maybe it's part of a general downward spiral. There are always reasons for a deterioration. Some of them may stem from--or be exacerbated by--things you say or do that you may not realize are toxic. Here's a checklist of seven such hot buttons--complied by Dr. Joshua Coleman. He calls them "recommendations to decrease conflict and increase closeness with your adult child."

· Don't criticize their choice in romantic partners. You have raised your adult child to be independent, so don't assume that you know better about who they should be with.

· Don't criticize their parenting. Yes, you may have years of experience, but most people like to learn on their own and resent intrusions from the outside, especially from parents.

· Don't criticize their sexuality. This should go without saying, but we don't choose our sexuality, our sexuality chooses us. Criticizing something about your child that is part of his or her make-up is a guaranteed recipe for alienation.

· Don't guilt trip about their lack of involvement with you. Guilt increases distance and resentment.

· If you're going to say no to a request for money or some other form of support, do it with affection and not as a complaint or criticism.

· Take responsibility for mistakes you've made in the past.

· If your adult child has cut off contact, don't respond with retaliation. Work to understand why your child feels the way that he or she does. Assume that there are separate realities in every family and that your adult child has a legitimate perspective, even if it isn't obvious to you. Get a lot of support for the inevitable feelings of hurt, anger, guilt, or shame evoked by the alienation from your adult child.

Money Matters: Letting Your Kids Know What Their Legacy Will Be

Heartache and heartburn lie ahead for grown kids whose parent's don't let them know how they plan to disburse their assets. That's what the estate-planning experts say and they may not be exaggerating.  Of course, right or wrong, you won't be there to see it. But still.

The misunderstandings that can arise range from hurt feelings over who the executor of the will is to why one sibling was chosen to inherit the house and another got the jewelry--when the kids would have preferred it the other way around.

Yes, it's time to have a conversation with your grown children about your estate plan. Not necessarily how much you'll be leaving them but why you're doing what. One set of parents with a financially successful son and a do-good-works but much poorer daughter, sat their son down to explain why the daughter would inherit more of their money than he would. Having the information come directly from mom and dad and the reason behind it meant a lot to the son, who said he might have felt that somehow he had disappointed his parents--rather than that they felt so good about his success that they didn't feel he needed further backing. He also felt that if had disagreed with their reasoning he would have had a chance to argue against it. And he was able to tell them what items of theirs had sentimental value for him.

Such a nice story. And you're probably saying, as I am, I'm going to do it, I'm going to have a conversation with my kids about my estate--however big or small that estate may be. Besides, sentimental value can't be overestimated. And yet we don't do it. I haven't done it yet. Is it the confrontation with mortality? The discomfort of talking about money? Of appearing to play favorites? Of re-stoking sibling rivalries?

Time to come to terms with those emotions. If you need a little rational support, this New York Times story may be just the ticket.