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

Grandparenting: Finding a place in the busy lives of our grown children and their children

What has the grandparenting life come to? We had to make an appointment to telephone Happy Birthday wishes to a 10-year-old grandchild. Okay, it wasn't like a business apppointment but we did have to txt and e-chat to find a moment when the phone would be answerable and the appropriate child available to hear good wishes sent her way.

                                 

There is a back story. Of course there is.Our grandchildren have aged out of toddler-hood and preschool--those were the days when we sent balloon bouquets to great huzzahs of excitement on their part. They are now primary and middle-schoolers. There are soccer practices, piano lessons, gymnastic classes, play dates, homework and who knows what else. In the case of Uber son, whose family lives in a city far from ours, those activities--and the coordination of said lessons, practices and playdates--are multiplied times three children and would take an excel sheet to map and execute if my daughter-in-law didn't manage it all in her head.

The busyness is understandable. Therefore, so is setting a time when there's a break in the child's day and she or he can come to the phone. It's when we finally get through--appointment kept!--that we find  the conversation not very satisfying. It is the end of a long day. The Grand is tired. She has a date with her dad to read a book together before bedtime. She's very polite but we can sense how--well, what a drag this call might be. It was so much easier when air-blow ups of Mickey Mouse and Hello Kitty were an option.

                                     

So why do we persist with the telephone call? I have been thinking a lot about this. First off, we love our grandchildren. We want to remind them that, though in our case we don't live nearby, we are another set of adults who care deeply about them, that they are very special to us and very special. In short, it's a reminder that we are there for them.

But there's another part: I think we do it to remind our grown children, whose lives are even busier than their children's are (and certainly than ours are, now that the child rearing is done and our careers are winding down), that we are part of the family--the part that shares the deep and constant love for the most precious aspect of their lives, their children.

That's as good a reason as any to make the appointment, if that's what it takes to send the message.

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The Buddy Game: The names our kids use to cheer on their kids

"Go long, buddy, go long." That's my grown son talking to his son. They are throwing a football back and forth on the solid ground of the dead end street that fronts their house. Long, wide, down the middle--dad and his buddy are giving that football and themselves a workout.

"Keep your eye on the ball, buddy." That's my son again. This time he's advising his son on hitting a baseball with a bat. It's an art and a science but "buddy" has to watch the ball closely.

"Shoot, buddy, shoot." "Look for the pass, buddy." "Get back, buddy." This time we're at a soccer game and it's not my son shouting to his buddy. It's all the dads. They are offering free coaching advice to their sons who are on the soccer pitch and trying to score or defend against a goal or just be a factor in the game. The calls for buddy to do this and buddy to do that are a cacophonous backdrop. In a way, it's a positive--the buddies can't tell if it's their father is yelling to them or someone else's dad is yelling to a teammate. So they can just concentrate on the coach and the game--or not. There are some daisy-pickers out there.

When did it come to all this buddy-calling? Hang around a soccer game and you're unlikely to hear a dad call to a Mike or Bill or Frank or even to use some home grown nickname, like "slugger."

Is all this "buddy" talk an attempt by our grown children to buddy-up to their children. Be their pals. Should we shout "buddy" when we go to a game? Quick answer: No! We should not shout anything. Not even ''yay, buddy." We are not our grandchildren's pals. That's our grownchildren's job.

One theory behind all this buddy calling comes from psychologist Michele Borba, who was quoted recently in the New York Times, on the topic.Her point: “The gist of Buddy Parenting is the parent’s goal is to be more of a pal than really the parent, the monitor, the overseer. It becomes toxic when you start placing popularity with your kid above establishing limits or saying no.”

We've seen none of that toxicity in our son's household. Limits are firmly set. But we do see gender discrimination. At his daughter's soccer games, neither our son nor any of the other dads or moms give a shout out to buddies--though our son has been heard to call out some coaching encouragement to his daughter. "Good kick, Angel." "Nice hustle, Angel." But he is a loner. Girls aren't buddies to their moms and dads and apparently they aren't angels either. At least not yet.

 

 

Runaway Grandpa: Pop-pop comes home. Not all generations are welcoming.

Two years ago, I posted a blog about a runaway grandpa. It was a tale of family woe: In his 75th year--and 50th year of marriage--a retired, New England professor ran off to California to live with a woman he'd been wooing for a year. Not only did his wife feel abandoned, so did the grown children, both of whom were married with children of their own, who wondered how their pop-pop had disappeared. Both grown children decided to shut their father out of their lives--they refused to open his emails or answer his phone calls.

Now he's back. His wife has been more forgiving and welcoming than his children. But at least one grandchild has risen to the challenge of re-knitting the family back together again. The 9-year-old, who lives in Texas with his parents, was celebrating his birthday when Pop-Pop and Grannie came to visit--the first visit since pop-pop's return to the family. Although the daughter remained cool, the grandson set set out his druthers for celebrating his birthday--lunch at the tiny restaurant at the tiny airport near his home. And so they went. From their seat, they could see small planes land, gas up and fly out. "He knew," says the grannie of her grandson, "that his pop-pop loves airplanes and this was his way of making his grandfather feel welcome." It helped cut the ice since there were lots of old airplanes to watch and talk about--which, at the time, beat trying to talk around more pressing family issues.

Things have gone less well with the son who lives in the same city as pop-pop and grannie. The son is still angry at his father. He has told his mother not to call his house. "He told me it was because he might pick it up and it might be his dad and he's not going to talk to him right now," the grannie reports. The reason notwithstanding, it has hurt her feelings "to have a son say 'Don't call me.' It cuts me off from my grandchildren."

Feelings of betrayal and anger run deep. We may think--worry, fret, be annoyed--that we're no longer the central players in of our family's life. Our grown children are. And with a sentence--"don't call me"--they can push us to the farthest edges of the periphery. Our actions may not be central, but they still pack a punch. And not necessarily in a good way.

 

Grandparenting: Helpful hints on how to talk to a teenager

When they were babies and toddlers, conversation with Grands was babytalk. Easy to manage. As they hit their stride as youngsters, we began to have more challenging but interesting conversations with them-- chats about ideas, family history, life, school, friends. They didn't sit on our laps anymore, but we could have heart-to-hearts.

But oh those teen years. Their parents--our grown children--are having their own difficulties communicating. One friend whose Grands are in high school said she has a better relationship with them now than when they were younger: she is now the place they come to complain about the parents and, since this woman doesn't get along with her daughter in law, find a "us against them" camaraderie.

Most of us, though, just want to keep the lines of normal communication open, without getting in between our grown children and their children. Some of us find the car a perfect place to chat--with eye contact only through the rear view mirror. Seems to free them up to chat more freely. Or for us to eavesdrop on conversations they have with their friends.

But that doesn't address the real issue: How to have a meaninful conversation with our Grands and to reassure them that we are there for them. A site called babysitting.net recently posted ten tips on how to talk to your teen age child. Most of the tips are for the parents, but a few are helpful for those of us floundering around and trying to figure out how to talk to our verge-of-adulthood, hormone-driven Grands.

Here are a few of the tips, which I've amended for grandparents:

Ask open-ended questions. Stay away from asking questions like, “How was your day?”  The answer will most likely be a one word answer.  Instead, say something like, “Tell me about your day.”

Talk about topics your Grand likes. Sports, if he or she is into athletics. (Brief yourself on whatever sport they're into.) Or movies. Or, if you're really brave, music.

Listen more than you speak. You don't have to fill every idle moment with chitchat. Leave some silence to give them a chance to fill it with conversation.

Don't try to fix them. Don't jump in and offer advice until it's asked for. The only thing you should do while your Grand is talking is nod and say the occasional "hmmm" or "I see" to indicate you are actively listening.

Only offer an opinion if your Grand asks for it. Telling your Grands what you would do isn’t going to help. If your Grand asks for advice, start by asking what they've considered so far.  This will give you an idea of where their head is and you can act accordingly.  Lectures? Don't go there.

Grandparenting: Baseball, soccer or lacrosse--are we ready to coach again?

When our kids were young and living in our homes, we either did or did not coach their sports teams; it was either a good or a bad experience--for them and for us. Now there our kids are, all grown up and thinking about coaching their own kids. Or possibly asking us to help out--or maybe even suggesting we volunteer to be the coach. 

This latter may be wishful thinking on the part of some of granddads--or grandmums--who fancied themselves athletes and great coaches in their younger days. But the idea of coaching a Grand's team is not just a return to our once-athletic selves. It's also a chance to spend quality time with a Grand and bond over an experience that lends itself to endless discussion and sharing of information. 

Should such an opportunity present itself, here's a 10-reasons list to review before rising to the challenge. The official title is "10 reasons dad may not want to coach a youth baseball team." But it applies to all sports and to moms and dads, grandparents and grand uncles as well.

In addition to the usual points about the difficulties of coaching your own child or grandchild--not showing favoritism; being a model of good sportsmanship--the list ends with this reason to keep your seat on the sidelines or in the stands: "One of the great joys of being a parent of a sporting child is watching that child play and grow within the game. As a coach, you might struggle with staying objective and keeping your emotions in check. Watching from the stands will give fathers the chance to enjoy their child’s play and not worry about the pressures of coaching."

For grandparents, there's the additional opportunity as observer to add our two-cents of advice to our grown kids about what we see happening on the field where their kids--our Grands--are playing. That, too, can be an endless source of discussion, conversation and bonding--a sharing of our love of the game and the wisdom we may have accrued about the subtleties of the sport.

We also serve who stand, cheer and keep an eye on the dynamics of the field of play.

 

 

Grandparenting: A how-to list on creating a loving bond with the grandkids

Came across a post on a parenting blog that listed 10 ways to be a fabulous grandparent. Some of it is the usual--have fun with and don't be afraid to be silly around the grandkids. But two key in on issues that are far from silly and can effect our relationship not only with the grandkids but their parents:

 Take the lead: It's your job to stay in touch with your grandchild or grandchildren. If you expect them to do it, you'll be disappointed and frustrated. "It's age-appropriate for kids to be thoughtless about staying in touch. If you want the relationship, you have to be willing to do the work," says New York therapist Sharon O'Neill. Remember birthdays, but celebrate other special occasions as well.... Ask if you can bring artwork home to put on the fridge. Attend sports games, plays, and dance performances. Cheer loudly, bring flowers, and take everyone out for ice cream afterward. "

 Beware grandparent rivalry: Avoid the trap of keeping up with Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josie – this will only lead to hard feelings....A close relationship with one set of grandparents doesn't detract from your importance – unless you let it.

Grandparenting: Expert advice for the grannie as nannie

 Grandparenting isn't all fun and games, especially when we do more than pop by for an hour's visit. Those of us who help out our grown children with babysitting--from the occasional coverage so the parents can go out for the evening to a regular granny-as-nanny stint--may find our grands acting in less-than-adorable ways.

There's a post on grannynannies.net that details "10 Common Reasons Grandparents Get Mad at Grandkids." It won't tell your how to deal with the ugliness of tantrums, the maddening unwillingness to go to bed or the frustrating habit of overindulging in video games, but it will bring comfort in knowing you are not alone, that some misbehaviors are universal. The 10 common reasons are not appalling-equal, but even the lesser of them can sure can tick off some grandparents. Number one in that category is probably the failure to say thank you for gifts or better yet, send a thank you note. Maybe it's a generational thing, but based on advice columns in the newspapers, it's one that gets a lot of granny and grampy goats.

 

Grandparenting: Children's books in praise of what we can do for our Grands

The Holidays may still seem far away, but that isn't the frantic take you get from the Halls of Commerce. Not only is Black Friday starting earlier, the holiday decorations are already up in many malls and along city streets. But I digress: If you're looking for a gift for one of your little Grands--for Holidays or anytime--the New York Times has a delightful page of reviews of books about us and how we are the emotional mainstay or treasured person in our Grands' lives. What a nice way to impress on them our importance in their lives--without having to overtly say so. Or having our grown children have to ask them to respect us.

My favorite on the NYTimes list: Crouching Tiger. Maybe because my Grands have taken such an interest in my attempts to learn tai chi (they find it uproarious to watch me "Stroke the Wild Horses Mane" and "Ward off Monkeys.") Maybe because my grandparents came from "the old country" and i was fascinated by their multi-lingual abilities. In any case, this is a story that deals with an immigrant child’s conflicting emotions toward a grandparent from the old country. The grandson wants to learn kung fu, but his grandfather insists on teaching him the tamer tai chi. "Eventually," the review notes, "he learns to appreciate his Chinese heritage in a convincing, unsentimental way, and to value the wisdom of his forebears."

Can't beat the wisdom thing.

Grandparenting: The moments they'll remember us by

When my daughter asked if I would come up and "babysit" her daughter--my Grand--for three days, she had her reasons. She had to travel for her job. Ordinarily, if she had to be away, she and my son-in-law would patch together a series of babysitters and play dates to cover the time away. But it was the first week of school. That can be traumatic any time, but even more so this year. Not only would my Grand be going back to school, she would be returning after a year in Berlin. I understood the request. I made it my business to get there.

It may sound like the easiest, most natural thing for a grandparent to do--grannie as nanny for three days--but it's not necessarily that simple. Work files have to be loaded on jump drives;  bags have to be packed and spouses/grandfathers persuaded (that wasn't too hard) to drive you to the airport.

It may sound like a lark--taking over the care and maintenance of a child in school--but it has its not-so-easy moments. It can be a long day from 2:00, when I pick her up from school, until 6:30, when her dad comes home. And then there's the pressure to get my own work done. 

So there we were, 4:00 on a rainy afternoon. She is banging out some songs on the piano and asking me if I think she's playing from sheet music or it's something she made up. I call out random answers while I have my laptop open and I edit a Q&A story on the mortgage interest deduction. She wanders over, pulls up a chair and asks me what I'm doing. I tell her I have to shorten a story I wrote--it has to lose about 200 words. She wants to help. We start with the introduction and I let her delete the phrases and sentences that can come out. As we move along, we come to a word, "sacrosanct" that I used to describe the deduction's place in the political pantheon. She doesn't know what it means. I tell her it is sort of like "holy." Well, she says, why didn't you say holy? I tell her some of the other subtle meanings sacrosanct has and why it seemed like just the right word to choose. We talk about it some more and then move on to another unusual word choice. She's interested in discussing why I called the deduction "the darling" of homeowning taxpayers. When I have to fact-check the year the mortgage interest deduction became law, she knows exactly how to go to Google, and we find the answer together: 1913.

Since this is a Q&A in which I have interviewed four experts, I have set it up so that each interview has a section of its own. The name and title of the person heads up each section. When we get to the first one, she wants to know if she can change the font for the name. Why not? She fiddles around and soon the name of the first interview--a housing economist--is maroon with a double underline. On we go, she deleting words as I tell her to, she redesigning the look of each name and title.

I can't say how long we worked on my story--an hour maybe--but it turned out to be the highlight of my visit. I was able to share with her a little bit of what I do--what writers and editors do--and she was able to show me how adept and creative she is at the computer. It was fun for both of us. But more than that, it made me realize that memories are made of this. Certainly, it was memorable for me--sitting side by side at the kitchen table, heads bent together, concentrating on what we were doing.

The three days may have had their tedious hours, but the reality is, you can't get to the heights of a memorable moment without trudging in the valley.

What did my editor think of the colorful copy I sent in the next day? He didn't say. But how often does he get copy with the name of the chief economist of Fannie Mae all dressed up in maroon Tahoma type with a double underline. For all I know, it may have been a memorable moment for him as well.

Grandparent Rivalry: The perils of proximity vs the longings of long-distance

When Lola's daughter had Lola's first set of grandchildren, Lola was just a tiny bit jealous of the other set of grandparents. They had sold their condo in Florida and moved to Nashville to be close to their only son and his children. They were there to do the burping and diaper changing; they were available for babysitting. They were there to see the first steps and hear the first words. They bought the pretty yellow and pink quilt for the granddaughter's first bed and, when their son and his family went away on vacation, they painted the child's room to match the quilt.

Lola, who lives 700 miles away, is the visiting grandparent. She sees all the other grandparent's influences and it makes her wonder whether her grandchildren will know and love her as much as they do the other grandparents. And even more to the point, whether she will have the same influence over them--the same input on family history and family values. 

If that was her concern when her grandchildren were toddlers, it is less so now. The grandchildren are teens and pre-teens. They no longer want their room painted by grandpa when they go out of town. And even more, Lola's daughter has her hands full with a mother-in-law who believes in order and imposes it wherever she goes--even in her son's house. She has redone kitchen closets, alphabetized the spice shelf, re-ordered her grandson's bookshelf and refolded her granddaughter's clothes.

This is not to say that either the grandchildren or the grown children love one set of parents/grandparents less. Only that there are irritations in proximity. The visiting grandparents are like visiting firemen--a novelty, a treat--and people whose advice or remembrance-of-things-past may come as a refreshing moment rather than an "here they go again."

A two-week stay with her daughter may be intense, but Lola leaves with the hope that they'll be glad to see her come again. And that her closeness to her grandchildren has nothing whatsoever to do with their relationship with the other grandparents. There's room for both. And just because they live nearby, doesn't mean they have more input into the way the grandchildren think about life, values and all the other important ways we hope to influence our children's children. One quality conversation with a child who's troubled about some issue can be the important idea that child carries with him or her. You never know where or when that moment is coming. It doesn't matter if we're a constant presence or a sometimes visitor to have it happen.