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

Coronavirus and our grown children: Showing us they care by parenting us

Governor Andrew Cuomo, photo Mike Groll/Office of Governor Andrew M. Cuomo

Our son is on the phone again. "Are you doing Take Out for dinner?" he asks. We are. "Don't go into the restaurant" he tells us. "Have it delivered."

We are looking forward to the short drive to the restaurant. It's what passes for an outing in these times of social-distancing. The dash into the restaurant to pick up the food that's been pre-ordered and pre-paid: We're okay with that. We don't argue with out son. We don't have to. He's not our parent. We'll do as we think best when we click off FaceTime.

But here's the thing. Our friends are experiencing similar "parenting" phone calls, many even more directive. Their sons and daughters are telling them to stay home, quarantine themselves, don't go to the supermarket, abide by the strictest set of isolation rules--rules beyond those suggested for the general shelter-in-place population. Of course, we are all well over 60 so our children are worried about us, as public health officials have suggested they should be. We are staying home--except for daily walks, supermarket runs and the occasional take out dinner--and are healthy with no underlying conditions. So are they, but now they are parenting us.

Should they? The Lt. Governor of Texas, Dan Patrick, says that he, at 69 year of age, is willing to, well, take one for the team if it means saving the economy. He suggests we should be willing to do it too. I guess that means we should spend our money on the economy and if we get sick, no ventilators for us. We "oldies" should be willing to cull the senior herd. No sacrifice too great for our kids.

Our kids and our grandkids are sending a different message: They like having their Nanas and PopPops around. New York's Governor Cuomo hit an emotional high note when he told a press conference, "My mother is not expendable and your mother is not expendable."

Thank you, Governor.

Now we're going to go pick up our sushi dinners at the Japanese restaurant where every surface in sight is wiped down and where we customers (and the men and women who deliver for GrubHub, DoorDash and the like) are kept at a safe distance.

For us, picking it up ourselves means one less contact with the package of food. We are staying safe as best we can. We are not Dan Patricks and our kids don't  want us to be.

Thank you for letting us know, kids.

 

Will the coronavirus pandemic be the defining event of our grown children's lives?

In 1966, the Arno River flooded Florence, killing 101 people and destroying millions of masterpieces. It was also a disaster for my Uncle Leon. He had a sweater import business; his inventory was stored in Florence. The sweaters were ruined and, through no fault of his own, so was Uncle Leon. For his family--his grown children just starting out on their own--the flood became a before and after point of reference. A legacy of sorts. 

I think about that now because I wonder about this pandemic and its effect on us--not just our health, but our squirreled-away retirement funds and our children and their future. Will this be a touchstone for many families who established themselves firmly in the middle class only to find the coronavirus swept that away. Not because we became ill from it--though that is still unknown--but because the economy didn't recover in time to keep us in the place we were.

After the scramble to make sure we would never be a  burden to our children, we now have to worry that the financial markets might have eaten away our best laid plans. We have to worry about the businesses our children are in. If they work for a big company--a Delta Airlines or a Marriott, as children of friends of ours do--will the furloughs they are currently on lead to rehiring or permanent layoffs. If our children started a business that's had to curtail its business, how will they (for how long can they) meet their payroll; if they work for a small business, are they out of work and trying to collect unemployment insurance? (Good luck with that; it's very difficult to get through even online.) And how widespread is this virus anyway--we have no widespread testing that would let us know. We have no idea who and how many among us are infected.

The majority of us with grown children have lived more than sixty years. We've been told to stay home and isolate ourselves--even if we don't have underlying conditions. We have to cut ourselves off from our children, our grandchildren, our friends--life as we know it. And we can't even get a test to know if that's necessary.

We are falling behind and behinder. Is this the legacy we're leaving our children--the turning point my Uncle Leon suffered half a century ago.

Helicopter Parenting: Does it end when our kids are adults?

Does helicopter parenting end when our kids graduate from high school or enter the work force? Don't bet on it. But don't indulge in it either. Barnard College's  Natalie Friedman can bear eyewitness account of the dangers to our children's welfare of over-parenting or having a bulldozer or snowplow parent--or even a lawnmower. So many words for those of us who can't stop intervening in our children's lives--even though they are adults and living independently.

Friedman fields call every day from "interveners." That's how she sees the damage done to a child's growth and ability to advocate for themselves. Although her words of wisdom are aimed at how to help your college kids grow up without your "interventionist" support  they also have relevancy to the post-graduate years--those years when our kids are setting out on their own, starting jobs that can support them (or come close) and are trying to figure out where they want to head in this world.

Here are some bits of her advice about helping kids advocate for themselves in college, though the tips below are relevant beyond the school years. (Words in parenthesis are mine, not Friedman"s.) The full article, which ran in the NYTimes, is here

--Help them write “scripts.” If your student is scared to talk to a professor or feels intimidated by a dean (or if they're in a workplace and are anxious about talking to a manager), help write a “script” for the occasion. Chances are you’ve had experience talking to your boss or manager, so tell your student what words to use. ... Ask your student to write down your suggestions in a notebook or type them into a phone, somewhere your student won’t forget to look right before stepping into a professor’s (or manager's) office.

Encourage them to follow up. Sometimes a student will work up the courage to find a professor, only to hear something disappointing: They are failing the course, or the next exam will count as their final grade.(Or a manager may tell them they're not performing well.) ...Some students will take this disappointing news and turn it inward, feeling terrible and using negative self-talk. ....Help to reframe the disappointment as a learning opportunity: Your student should follow up with an email or another visit to the professor with specific questions like, “What can I do to be better prepared for the next exam?”

Remind them to talk to more than one person. A professor, a friend or a teaching assistant might have one answer to a question, but others on campus (or in a business organization) might have advice of a different kind. Encourage your student to get to know other adults on campus who might be able to help navigate a less-than-ideal situation. Getting lots of information and input can help them make better decisions. Remind them that learning to live with disappointment is a facet of self-advocacy. Even students who are great at asking for what they need may not get the response they want. Remind them that this is O.K.: Rejection is a part of life.

Friedman ppoints out that too many parents have a “don’t-take-no-for-an-answer” mind-set, and their children adopt the same attitude. "This approach rarely works for self-advocacy," she writes. "Remember that every conversation is a give-and-take, and coming off as angry or inflexible is only going to create tension with the very people who are in a position to help." 

Friedman's bottom line for us and our children: "Learn when to accept “no” as the final answer and when it is appropriate to push back or ask more questions."