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

Money Matters: Slicing and dicing the financial legacy for your grown children

Where is it written that, when we write our Wills and split our estate into legacies, each of our grown children has to be treated equally? That is, the worldly goods have to cut down the middle if there are two children, into equal thirds if there are three--on down to fourths and fifths or more.

There are lots of reasons why we might not want to divvy things up evenly--reasons beyond dis-inheriting a badly behaved child. A friend, recently divorced, has three children--two daughters, one son. She wants to leave the bulk of her considerable estate [the divorce agreement left her very comfortable financially] to her daughters. The reason is simple: The son has hit it rich in a business he runs with his father. He has no need for a share in his mother's estate. The daughters are both struggling financially--one in a low-paying but rewarding job; the other as a stay-at-home mom with four children and a husband who, says Will-Writing Mama, will never earn a lot of money, at least not by the standards of the family.

Her mind is made up, and she had a plan to explain it to her son--later, in a letter that would accompany the Will and be read when she passes on.That's when her estate lawyer gave her a solid piece of advice: Give her son a heads up in advance. She's working on it--by writing a letter he can read now that explains it all and makes clear that this has only to do with his financial success and nothing to do with the son's partnership with his father.

That's one way to handle the decision to disperse unevenly. In answer to a similar issue in Social Qs, Philip Galanes suggested the legacy-leaving parents have a heart to heart talk with the child whose financial success is so much more secure that her sibling's. "Talk with her privately," Galanes suggests, "and say: 'We always imagined leaving our money to you and Bobby 50-50. We love you both. But you’ve become so successful, and Bobby really needs our help. How would you feel if we left him a bigger piece of the pie?' Then listen." It's the dialogue you open that counts, Galanes says. And he adds one additional point to make to Super-Successful Child: "Be clear that if anyone’s circumstances change, your estate plan will, too."

Solid advice. The money in our estate is ours to disburse as we see fit, but we don't want the sharing of our wealth to create ill feelings between siblings--or a grudge against a demised us. The reality is that one child may not need the money where the other does, but being unprepared to be read out of a Will can lead to unintended and unhappy consequences. Besides, as Galanes put it, "the sanest people can go bonkers where cash is concerned."

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Parenting Grown Children: Letting their success stand for itself

Friends are visiting. We haven't seen them in years. The two husbands grew up in the same New York neighborhood. We wives became friends as young marrieds. Then they moved north to Vermont; we moved south and we would see them once a year when we headed for the Green Mountains for a summer vacation. Those annual two-family dinners and picnics became a marker of sorts--of how our children were growing up. We started when our kids were still in preschool and continued into the college years. It was a limited, once-a-year history, but a tracking of passages in the life of our families.

So it isn't surprising that on this visit we are talking about our kids and reveling in how all four of them--their two and our two--have turned out to be independent and productive. It's not a matter of bragging rights--it's more a catching up with some of the details on what our children have accomplished and are doing.

Our friends are very proud of their children--with good reason. Like our children, neither of their two daughters live close to home. One of them is currently living as far away as Madagascar. So it comes as something of a surprise when the mom tells me, with a little laugh, how when one of her daughters comes to visit mom and dad in the old homestead they hang out and occasionally, my friend suggests something--a little something about her daughter's clothes or hairdo or her children's play-together habits. Just a wee critique that slips out in the course of a long day. That's when, my friends tells me, her daughter tells her: "Mom, I run a household. I have two kids. I'm working. I'm an adult now. Back off."

She says it in a nice way, my friend tells me. And she tells me this story by way of saying how good she feels about having an independent and resourceful child. Isn't that what it's all about? Isn't that the message we want to convey to them--even if we slip from time to time and forget to "back off."

Parenting Adult Children: When their romantic relationship is not who we want

This is an addenda to my post a few months ago, "Backing off when we don't like their choice of romantic partner." We don't always understand why our grown children choose the love interest they bring home for us to meet. Somehow, the new love doesn't measure up to our vision of who would be a good match for them.

It isn't easy to come to terms with a person--a possible son- or daughter-in-law--who seems, well, less educated or less sophisticated or just not as classy or too old or too young as you had hoped. Sometimes, we don't even wait to meet them--we don't like them based on description alone.

That was the case in the Social Q's (Philip Galanes, New York Times) answer to a woman worried about her 23-year-old graduate-student son's relationship with a 28 year old woman he met at school. Not only has the mom not met the woman her son is bringing home for a weekend visit, she has received a request from him that she dish out vegan foods (quinioa, seitan and tempeh) for himself and his guest--he no longer eats meat, fish or fowl and neither does his guest. After Galanes tells the mom how to deal with the challenge of the cooking request ("Reply to your son, "When you get home, we'll go shopping for groceries together."), he addresses her real concern: that her son "is living the louche life with an old cougar when he should be holed up in the library."

"Let me be clear Mama Bear," he advises. "You have nothing to gain, and everything to lose, in going to war with them.... Time will tell whether this gal is a distraction or enhancement to your son's academic career.... In the meantime, try to be happy for him and his falling cholesterol levels."

And there's the hitch for all of us--trying to be happy when we think we see an unwise relationship in the bud. But we can't nip it. It's their life now. The control button is no longer at our fingertips. Unless we see signs of abuse, all we can do is swallow hard, smile and hope nature takes the best course.

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Money Matters: Not so easy to cut the lifeline of support

We've brought up our children to be independent. And many of them have grown up to be just that. Certainly, my friends Pam and Don have two such children. One of them--a daughter--lives in apartment near them. She's married with two small children. Pam and Don play an active part in their daughter's family life--picking the kids up from pre-school two days a week; babysitting on Friday evenings so the young parents can enjoy a date night. That's the kind of support they've been giving since the grandkids were born.

For the past year, though, support has turned financial as well. Their son-in-law lost his job last year; then their daughter did. Neither held high-paying positions but they were able to make ends meet on the two salaries. Though they are out of work, rent has to paid, food has to be purchased, the pre-schoolers need to be clothed and fed. Pam and Don have stepped up. Don had been a successful businessman and though he is now retired, there is a hefty nest egg in place. They can afford to use some of it to help their daughter and her family. Better now, they reason, then later when their daughter might have no need of a financial legacy.

They sat down with their daughter and son-in-law, figured out what they needed financially to get by on a no-frills budget, and Pam and Don started supporting them. "These are decent kids. They haven't done anything wrong," Don says. "They've worked hard, applied themselves. But they got hit by this downturn."

Both young parents have been job hunting for more than a year now and looking into entrepreneurial opportunities. But as the weeks and months tick by, Pam and Don are wondering when the joblessness will end, how much longer they can afford to do this and what they will do if it gets to the point where the drain on their resources will mean a change in their life style and a real threat to their financial well-being.

These are close friends, and we've gnawed over "the situation" with them and wondered what we would do in their place. They are, of course, fortunate that they can afford to help out right now and probably for another year. But should they suggest their daughter and family move into their home--the daughter's old room is still available as is the guest room/home office. Should they insist that their son-in-law, who spends his day on various aspects of job hunting, take a Starbucks-McDonald's type job just to bring in some cash. Or that their daughter do the same. Pam can't imagine what some of these choices would do to their relationship--the too-closeness of living together; the feeling that they were asking their daughter and SIL to throw in the towel on their future careers. "People talk about tough love," Pam says. "That may be something that applies when your kids are coming out of college, but when they've got a family and they're trying as hard as they can--well, it's different."

"The groping accident of life" Thomas Wolfe called it. There's so much risk out there--unexpected incidents that happen despite our best intentions and careful precautions. When our grown children are groping along the detritus of an accident, shouldn't we be there for them? Financial counselors will advise you, Don't pauperize yourself helping out your grown children. But sometimes they aren't the only ones in the accident.

 

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Visiting Grown Children: What are the good-guest rules when you don't feel well?

The first morning of our weekend visit to Uber Son and family, we got up early: Soccer, soccer, soccer was the all-day plan. Paterfamilias was off to the four-game tournament the oldest Grand was playing in. PF was over-the-top excited about watching his grandson on the soccer pitch. All day: Couldn't be a better plan. This is why he wanted to come for a visit.

I tagged along with my daughter-in-law to watch the youngest grand--she just turned five--at her game. Magnet ball is more like it as all those wee people scrum around the ball, their tiny legs jutting out to try to kick the ball. This was a 9 a.m. game; five-year-olds aren't asked to remain on the pitch for very long. We were back at the house within an hour. But all of a sudden I felt light-headed and nauseated. Heat sick? But it was only 10:00.

So I crept to my room--the guest room--plopped down on the bed and waiting for it to pass. When I came back downstairs, preparations were being made to get everyone into the van and join 'the guys' in time to see the third and fourth game of the soccer tournament--in 95 degree weather. Yes, it was a hot summery weekend. I apologized for disappearing --especially since a lunch had to be packed, small soccer players needed help removing shin guards, umbrellas and chairs needed to be stowed in the car and other preparations made. Of course, my DIL was on top of things and getting it all done. But one feels an explanation is needed for not being there to help. I told her I had needed a lie-down. She looked concerned but we agreed that, as she put it, I was feeling 'off.'

What do you do when you're feeling 'off' when you're visiting your grown children? You don't want to disrupt the carefully planned day or miss seeing what you came to see--or cause your children to worry about you or spread your germs should the "off" be something more unpleasant. You're there to help not be helped. So, I soldiered on 'cheerfully' through the soccer games and kept the feeling lousy feeling to myself.

But then we're back at the house and I am not doing my usual helping out--I am letting my DIL and Uber son cook dinner without so much as a helping hand from me. It feels downright strange to sit there and not bustle around--if not helping in the kitchen or folding laundry then reading to a Grand or doing something else with one or all of the Grands.

Behind it all was this question: How to be polite and loving but cut the visit short and go home? The fear of being a burden is just below the surface--even though I was hardly feeling really ill. I just longed for my own home and own bed--to pull the covers up and sleep off whatever bug was bugging me. 

What is it that compels some of us to mount a drive to get away--away from letting our grown children or Grands see us as ill or infirm or even just mildly 'off?' PF and I have been fortunate--to be physically well and able to go bicycle riding with our grown children and our grands, to kick the soccer ball with them and go on hikes--to say nothing of being part of a family touch-football game. Feeling Off reminds me of how lucky I am but how lousy I feel at this moment about being there. Have I put too much in store in my persona as a can-do parent and grandparent. Am i too busy hiding vulnerabilities to enjoy the togetherness just because I feel off? 

When we finally got home--we did leave early; thunderstorms were predicted for later in the day and the thought of canceled flights tipped me over to an earlier flight--my DIL texted me to see if I was feeling better. I wasn't. But I couldn't bring myself to tell her so. Off is off, but even from a distance, one can't press the burden button--or rather, the fear of being a burden. Why is that?