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

Money Matters: Putting money aside to help the grown kids and their kids

This recession is hard on everyone--more so on those it affects directly: those with the lost job or the diminished 401k. But that hasn't stopped many of us from using what we've got to help those we love. A  study out of Britain may reflect what's happening here as well.

Here are the basics of the report:

13 percent of British grandparents are filling up savings accounts with money for their grandchildren to inherit:. A fifth of this group are saving upwards of £400 every year, which will turn into a £10,000 nest egg when the children turn 18. Additionally, a tenth of these over-50s are putting money into savings accounts to help their adult children through the recession.

The study is in sharp contrast to a report released earlier that revealed that six in 10 over-50s are concerned that their pensions and savings will be insufficient to look after them in retirement.

Meanwhile, back here in the U.S.A., a friend tells me what she's doing to assure that her 33-year-old daughter--unmarried and still struggling with job losses in this economy--will have savings in the bank on her far-in-the-future retirement day. She's has set up a Roth IRA in her daughter's name and is funding it for her--for now. More on this interesting idea in a future post.

Fighting over the grandbaby: New grandparents behaving badly

The Scottish poet Robert Burns had it right: "O would some power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us."

I was reminded of that line while reading a Carolyn Hax advisory in the Sunday Washington Post. Here's the gist of the complaint: Young couple with first baby are facing out-of-control competition by grandparents for them--new mom, new dad, new baby--to come visit. The divorced grandmother resents any visits to her ex--one of the granddads. Meanwhile, the young dad's  parents keep count of how many times they visit them versus one of her parents. "It has gotten so bad," the new mother [and someone's grown child] writes, "that they ask us where we are on weekends to see whether we are at another grandparent's house, and if we are, all hell breaks loose."

I know wherein she speaks. Several of my friends have voiced concern that the other grandparents get to see their grandchild more than they do, that the other set will have more influence over, gain more love from, be more important to the grand child. The feelings run deep. I've had little inklings of them myself--don't we all? Fortunately, most of us keep these thoughts and emotions to ourselves or vent them to friends. As you can tell from reading this Post clip--"how can we help them to understand how hurtful it is to be given so much guilt"--the situation there is out of control. But more to the point, there's nothing these grandparents are gaining by making their grown children feel guilty.

Granny as Nanny: Offering your services, even from a distance.

The magazine where I've spent the past 20 years of my career has been sold. The new owners have, as they say, brought on their own editorial team. In other words. my work-family of 20 years is no longer under one roof. So now I am free to spend more time on this blog (a plus) and to be available to help my grown children, who live in cities far from me, should they need it. This is the message I relayed to Alpha Daughter. To which she replied: "Well, I have a real problem with child-care coverage on Wednesday and Thursday. It would be wonderful if you could come up here from time to time to help out." I would pick up my little Grand at school, amuse her, get dinner ready--in other words, I would be a helpful, hands-on grandparent and parent.

It takes some recomputing on my part to figure out how this would work: Free to travel on a Wednesday and Thursday? I'm used to thinking Saturday and Sunday. But why not? "Have computer. Will travel. Can help out." That should be my new motto--if I can just wrap my mind and new reality around it.

Traveling in Asia: Sharing your trip with the grandkids

Paterfamilias and I have returned from our trip to Vietnam. We are still recovering from jet lag and the challenges of dealing with the impenetrable language [they use the same alphabet as we do but not the same pronunciation of the letters], the different culture [this was our first trip to a country not dominated by Western language and thought], the traffic [hundreds of thousands of motorbikes; no traffic lights!] and the climate [hot and hotter in the south, though it was winter].

While we were there, we decided we would share the trip with our Grands. Almost every hotel we stayed at--from the shabby place in the Mekong Delta to the spiffy hotel in Ho Chi Minh City [Saigon] to the business-like hotel in Hanoi--had a computer with access to the Internet. So every evening before we went out to dinner we sat down at the computer and distilled the day for our Grands--filtering the day's activities to focus on what a 6-, 7- and 8-year old would find interesting.

So, we gave them our rules for crossing the streets [if there's a Vietnamese person crossing, go with them. If not, wade into the traffic and walk across it at a stately, measured pace; do not look at the traffic--it will terrify you and make you stop in your tracks and that would be a dangerous thing to do.] We told them how hard it was to speak VIetnamese [Nguyen is pronounced Win; Thu is pronounced Toe; Thuy is pronounced Twee--and that doesn't account for having one of 8 accents on the vowel]. We told them how sweet and friendly the children were [When we were bike riding in rural Mekong Delta, kids would run over and call out, "Hallo, Hallo." One little boy jumped on his bike, rode over to us and called out, "Hallo, Hallo. Good Afternoon," and rode away laughing merrily.] We would describe an ancient temple or tomb we saw and give them Internet links to it. When we moved from city to city, we encouraged them to get their maps out and follow our progress from the south of the country to the north and then over to Cambodia.

One of the wonderful things about emailing about the country and culture we were experiencing was getting an occasional email back--either a question from one of the Grands or a comment from one of our grown children to the effect of how much they were enjoying the reports and the details. In our last email, the day we were leaving to fly back home, one of the Grands is reported to have said, "Oh no. They're coming home. Does this mean no more emails?"

Bottom line:The feeling of inclusion with our children and their children while we were far from home was beyond wonderful. We were still connected.

Money Matters: When does the dependence of grown children end?

A friend tells me his friend's woes: She's a divorced divorce attorney with a small but steady practice. Her daughter has gone to New York City to pursue her dreams. She wants to be an interior designer--get right in there and help people decorate their homes. And she has a talent for it. Only trouble is, the daughter is 28 and has been in dream-pursuit for several years--without much luck. She has yet to land an entry level job with a design firm. The mother has been subsidizing her daughter--"paying a hell of a rent for a place in Hell's Kitchen," says my friend. The mother is feeling the pinch of supporting a second household--her practice is good but not that good. "At what point ," she asks, "do I just say no?"

My friend feels he's been approached because his lawyer friend, a single mom, is looking for a male point of view--women being "more nurturing and not as practical," he says. His practical point of view zeroes in on his own turmoil with his daughter, who is in her early 20s and still in undergraduate school, having transferred colleges and programs several times. Now she wants to spend her winter break in California--with his financial help. "I can't seem to get her to focus on the notion that the purpose of college is to help you become self-supporting," he says. "When I was her age I couldn't wait to take control of my life."

And that, he thinks, is at the core of some of the dependence that seems so prevalent today. His argument: We [our generation] couldn't wait to get a job and move out of our homes because there were so many restrictions on us. But kids today have so much freedom at home--free meals, free room and the freedom to have as guests in their bedroom anyone they want. "They can practically make love in the living room and no one would say a thing," he says. So, he asks, where's the urge to get out there in the real world and declare independence?

It's a theory worth thinking about. How comfortable are we making it for those who've filled our empty nest? Or are living in their own little nests on our dime. Do some of them need a tough-love push? Are we a little late in delivering a practical message?

Re-Nesting: What's driving them home?

The latest stats are not out yet--the census moves slowly--but it will doubtless show that this Great Recession has created a migration of sorts: adult children moving back home. In 1970, less than 8 percent of adult children between the ages of 25 to 34 lived with parents. By 2000, that percent was at 10.5. By 2010, the percent will be larger. The census suggests that there will be more than 80 million parents of grown children who have one of those children living home again.

What’s driving adult kids back home? Difficulties finding a job, decision to go back to school [graduate degree, anyone?]. Then there's foreclosures and housing prices. Besides the economic reasons, there are the age-old ones--protective parents and kids who've learned to love the comforts of being taken care of.

In today's world, financial pressures have to top the list. But there's also a need for a safe haven during a divorce. And, the grown kids may move back home to help out their aging parents.

If you're looking for practical advice on what to do if the boomerang happens to you, try this Web site. The bottom line on the author's advice: "Remember to treat your boomerang kids as adults. Making life easier on grown kids who live at home by doing their laundry

, cleaning their rooms, etc. can hurt them in the long run by delaying their transition into responsible, independent adulthood."

Keep Your Mouth Shut: Rearing their children is their business.

Every piece of advice you've read tells you the same thing: Don't interfere with your grown children's parenting of their children. And we don't. But oh how close we can come to making the fatal error. It's tough to sit and watch discipline in action. This is especially true for those of us who live far from our grown children, as we do: Visits tend to be extended and you see too much--but don't know enough about what's been going on to put it in context.

This Thanksgiving, we hung around Uber son's house for four days, and on one of those days we were witness to a major meltdown: One of our grands lost a checker game to a sibling. There were tears and much unhappiness. The parents were adamant about imparting lessons about good sportsmanship and how important it is in life to know how to "take a punch" gracefully. This only seemed to produce more tears and wailing, followed by more chastising and lecturing. To us, the witnesses sitting idly by, it seemed like over-reaction on the parents part. It was uncomfortable and painful to sit there. And Paterfamilias is a lucky man. As he was about to open his mouth and intervene in defense of his Grand--a major no-no--I was able to clap a hand over his mouth--figuratively speaking. Even though I wanted to help put an end to it, too.

Of course, 10 minutes after the meltdown, all was well. The Grand was back in the room, laughing and talking and kidding around with us. And that's what we have to remember when we're tempted to "say something." We don't have the context of previous behavior or the knowledge about the consistency of discipline to balance out what we're hearing and seeing in the moment. Besides, our grown children may not know better about parenting than we do [look how successful we were!], but then again, maybe they do. Besides, it's their ball and their court.

Thanksgiving's Good Tidings: We see ourselves as others see us

Our family is together for the Thanksgiving feast: Paterfamilias and I, Uber Son and his family, Alpha daughter and hers. We are gathered together at Uber Son's house--we all live in different cities and his is centrally located, big enough to fit us all in and require the least amount of airplane flights. There is much to say about these several days of togetherness--there are moments of great joy and hilarity--grandkids are cute and smart and amazing--and some difficult passages that attach to having so many people together at once, vying for attention. This is especially so when you all haven't been together for an extended period of time. I will write more of that after I've digested it. But one moment stands out:

We are seated for dinner--kids at a small table near the adult table. The wine has been poured at the big-people table, and Paterfamilias suggests a toast to being together plus a question: What do each of us have to be thankful for. Our answers vary based on our particular perspectives--Paterfamilias is grateful for the political change in the country; I am thrilled to see all my grandchildren playing together under one roof. And so on. But one of our guests--the widower of our best friend, a man who has been part of our Thanksgivings since the children were teenagers and Thanksgivings were held in our home--has his own observation. He has flown up to Uber son's house to be part of this year's feast and he says he is thankful to be with a functioning family when there is so much dysfunction all around us.

As a family, we may have our difficult passages, but they are just that: passages.

A Poet Says It Best: Ancient advice for where we are now

Alpha daughter gave me a gift a while ago. A book of Tao Te Ching poems. For months, it sat in a messy pile on my desk, unopened. I was too busy to slow down to reflect and lose myself in poetry. Time and mood conspire: I found the little book--a mere 120 pages, some with delicate ink-wash drawings--on a day when I was trying to think my way through a messy passage in my life. Among the gems I found in "The Sage's Tao Te Ching: Ancient Advice for the Second Half of Life" by William Martin, was this sparely written poem that, for all its gentle tone, rips right to the heart of where we are as parents of grown children--or, rather, where we aspire to be.

Like the Full Moon on an Autumn Evening

When we were young/and feeling the need to prove ourselves,/we generated heat and energy/like the noonday sun./ But now we take time to reflect the Tao/and bathe our world in soft silent beauty/like the full moon on an Autumn evening.

An abundance of opinions will generate heat/but accomplish nothing./You no longer have to comment/on each and every little thing./You can observe events with a detached serenity./When you speak,/your words are gentle, helpful, and few./Your silence is as beautiful as the Harvest moon.

Money Matters: What happens when you can no longer help your kids?

A friend tells me this story: His friends--a couple who retired last year--have a son living in Florida. He was in the construction business but Florida's economy--and particularly the home building business--is in the tank right now. Long story short: The son lost his job. The parents, who had done well during their working years--have been paying his mortgage so he won't lose his home. But their 401k took quite a hit in the Great Recession. Their investment income is down. And now they are talking to their son about how he might have to let his house go.

It's a painful conversation to have. Many of us who built up comfortable nest eggs during our working years are feeling pressed to have the kind of retirement we thought we'd have. But this takes that worry up a notch: What happens when our children run into trouble? Many of us have always assumed--not necessarily articulated but it was there in the back of our minds--that we'd be able to help our kids through tough times. But now the tough times are prolonged and the foreclosure problem deep. For many of us and for many of our kids, there's no relief in sight yet. At what point do we say, 'Sorry. We can't help anymore.' And not be crushed by it.