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

Observation: Living within the limits of being a mother-in-law

I was lucky. My husband didn't get along with his mother but I did. She didn't interfere (as my mother did) and, unlike most women of her generation (my mother, again) she never had a negative word to say about my pursuit of a career.  Not that I sought her out as a confidant. But neither did I see her as an enemy or rival--or someone to be avoided. I was fortunate and so, I guess, was she.

What happens when we're not so lucky? When our child's chosen life partner doesn't like us--or makes themselves scarce whenever we appear at the door. Or sets limits on visiting hours. Or keeps us at a distance in myriad ways small and large.

This was an issue for a Carolyn Hax reader who wrote that his wife, who had had a challenging relationship with his parents (who were difficult and needed to be kept at a distance) was now struggling with boundaries set by their son and his wife. More specifically, as the reader/writer put it, the young couple were "limiting contact, contacting her on their schedule, etc. My wife ... complains incessantly to me that she does not hear from our son and daughter-in-law as often as she’d like, which would be multiple times a day. We do hear from them every week or so."

Hax beat right to the heart of the matter. What was past with the reader's parents was past. Today is what matters. Yes, the reader and his wife may feel hurt that the son and his wife don't call as often as they (the parents) would like--but they call. Maybe contact with the couple is circumscribed. But--and here Hax lays it on the line--it's up to the parents to comply with limits their adult children set. As Hax put it:

If you are on the cold side of a boundary, then there’s no better argument than to Back! Off! ....Respect for the couple’s space is the only answer.

credit: L. Saint Fleurant, Mother and Children

(I'll be addressing this issue again, in particular when it goes from the relatively benign (our adult child doesn't call often enough) to the truly malignant (our adult child no longer speaks to us). Psychologist Joshua Coleman has a book on the topic, "Rules of Estrangement: Why Adult Children Cut Ties and How to Heal the Conflict.”  I'll  sum up some of his points, but I can tell you--reader alert--that we the parents don't get an easy pass when it comes to the healing part.)

 

 

 

Grandparenting: Fun and games with grannie names

When I first learned I was going to become a grandma, I panicked. I told myself, "I'm not old enough to be called that." I was. I had already passed into my 60s. 

Much of my discomfort was with the aura around the name Grandma. This was also true for the person who was about to be called Grandpa. That's why we designed our own names, and we—and our grandkids—have lived happily with them. (I'm PenPen; he was BaPa.)

Recently I came across a piece by Linda Wolff that had fun with the names we grandmas choose to be called by our grandkids. Here's a taste of what she had to say (and a link to the rest of it):

Mimi: The name originates in the south though it oozes with French flare. Closest to mommy and might be confusing , but that's what therapy is for. Essentially Meemaw, but with more “Je ne sais quoi.” Mimis will have everyone (the kids, the dog, the neighborhood stray cat) eating out of your manicured hands. Shopkeepers will keep you on speed dial when your little Ella’s mini G-wagon rolls in.

Gigi: You’re not a regular grandma, you’re a cool grandma. You prefer Peach Bellinis to Kale Smoothies and relish the fact you allow the kidlets to nom nom chicken nuggets in your bed. You can be found prancing around town behind one of those new-fangled strollers. You dispense all your Gigi wisdom to future grandmas during mahjong and are famous for developing a Genovian accent every time you return from summers in Positano. You never turn on the white noise machine for the kidlets when you babysit. Who needs it when you’ve got the dulcet tones of Fluffy, your snoring Goldendoodle?

Yaya: Like a warm summer breeze, you’re probably sunning in Mykonos instead of watching your baby’s babies. That’s ok, this will remind them to accept your offer to vacation together the next time you offer them a plane ticket. First class only, of course.

Lili, Lala, Cookie, Babka: You’re wise beyond your years and have come to the conclusion that the baby will call you whatever it damn well pleases based on whatever they can pronounce. So you just keep bringing tins of cookies and whisper “I’m your favorite” as you rock little Ceecee into sweet slumber.

painting: Frida Kahlo

Empty Nest: Support for the college-dropoff blues

My yoga teacher is a single mom. She dropped her only child off at college a few weeks ago. The daughter is a freshman and this is the first prolonged time away from home. My yoga teacher came back a day after the drop-off with bouyant tales of the move-in, the roommate, the campus. This week she and a student who'd been absent from class for several months--a dad who dropped his child off for freshman week at college two weeks ago--commiserated with each other after class. I was busy rolling up my yoga mat and putting my props away but I overheard talk of the sadness each felt. "We--you and your wife--should get together," my yoga teacher said. "We have to support each other."

There has always been a sadness--mixed with positive excitement--when our kids leave home and the nest is empty. And now, it seems, there's a lot more reaching out for support--or acknowledging that we need support.  Is it different from the days--a generation or more ago--when we dropped our kids off and came home to an empty and eerily silent house? Evidently it is today in that we the parents are not keeping our woes bottled up inside and at home.

A recent Axios newsletter reported the following tidbits about the current state of empty nest adjustment:

Many first-year college students from different states, backgrounds and majors have one thing in common: stressed-out parents struggling with the separation.

Parents are using tech to track their kids, micromanaging orientation week and even having dorm sleepovers.

As to the support side of the equation, Axios reports:

Parents' stress is on display in online forums and Facebook groups, where parents are asking questions and offering emotional support to one another.

On these online groups and forums parents ask about minute-to-minute details of orientation, for advice from other parents for advice on their kids' roommate woes and where to shop for basic toiletries.

The "good news" on this support network: If we're turning to Facebook groups or making dates with friends to talk about our worries and separation issues that may mean we're not bugging our kids. Go Class of 2028!

painting: Renoir, "Oarsmen at Chatou"