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

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."