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

Post Pandemic Issues: Can we close our helping hand to our non-vaxxed kids

The country is riven by the vaccinated versus anti-vaxxers. Infection rates are escalating among the unvaccinated. That's allowing new, virulent variants to thrive, threatening our health and the return to normal, whatever that may be.

What happens when the unvaxxed hits home, when it's not the rogue uncle or distant cousin but your adult child who won't get a shot?

This touchy issue popped up in Kwame Anthony Appiah's New York Times column The Ethicist. The father of an unvaxxed son wrote in with that quandary plus a further complication. Until the son gets a job, the dad is paying his son's share of the rent on an apartment the son shares with his girlfriend. But the son's job search is complicated by his reluctance to get vaccinated. The reader posed this argument and question:

I told him that future employers would most likely insist on his getting vaccinated, and that his unvaccinated state would have financial implications by delaying his start date and income until he could get fully vaccinated. I said that his refusal to get the shot would cost money and that I wasn’t sure I would continue to support him during that gap period between accepting a job and starting work. He became upset, maintaining that he was already compromising by agreeing to become vaccinated if a job required it and that my withholding support was unfair, especially given his willingness to compromise by getting the shot.

Who’s right here? 

Appiah covered the importance of getting vaccinated and then zeroed in on the issue of whether the father, who's nearing retirement and feeling a financial pinch, is right to cut off financial aid if his son refuses to get vaccinated.

Vaccination aside,  Appiah made a point that will resonate with all of us who offer our grown children financial support of any kind. 

If he’s willing to accept an employer’s terms, he should be willing to accept his parental benefactor’s. After all, a parent isn’t generally obliged to provide financial support to an adult child.

Given that you have allowed him to depend upon your generosity, however, you would do well to withdraw that support gently, or with ample advance warning. I know it seems paradoxical to say that a gift can entail an obligation. But in all sorts of circumstances, it can. Suppose your tractor-owning neighbor makes a habit of clearing your driveway every time you’re snowed in. Because of her generosity, you don’t make alternative arrangements. If she suddenly has a change of heart, you’re worse off after the next blizzard than you would otherwise be. That doesn’t bind her to a lifetime of plowing your driveway; it does mean she owes you notice.

In the end, though, respecting people’s agency doesn’t mean you have to underwrite their every mistaken belief. Your son is free to reject your support if he wants to persist in error.

Refilled Nests: Coronavirus, adult children and our no-longer-empty guest bedrooms

                                         painting: Edward Hopper (at National Gallery)

Some of our grown kids have come home to ride out the Covid-19 crisis. We may be happy to have them under our roofs again and to provide safe shelter in the corona storm. But the impact on us is not negligible: Keeping the refrigerator stocked. Cooking bigger meals. Sharing bathrooms. Overhearing conversations. Feeling frustrated by online habits. Dealing with their hygiene and laundry. Plus, the diminished privacy of having another adult in the house all the time. We love our adult kids but we don't necessarily want them living with us again.

This is an issue addressed recently in the New York Times, with a headline that acknowledged the reality: "Young Adults Take Refuge in Parents’ Empty Nests." The article also notes that some parents are moving in with their adult children. For some single parents, it means avoiding the loneliness of sheltering alone. It can also be helpful to children who are raising young children and can use an extra pair of hands, especially if they are telecommuting to their jobs.

There are all kinds of situations and reasons for re-habitating with our grown up children or them with us. Here's a link to the full NYTimes story, but if you don't want to read the whole thing. here are three highlights:

One mother summed up the reality of her refilled nest this way:

We have to rethink everything. What we've worked really hard to get to--our independence, their independence--is just gone."

An economist's observation on the impact on careers, particularly of children who have moved back home and left their jobs behind.

There are lasting consequences, a qualitative impact on workers who are forced to take a step backward, and that can really perpetuate a downward career spiral.

An historical perspective on multi-generational co-habitation:

Multigenerational households have been on the rise since 1980, according to a 2018 Pew Research Center report. In 2016, a record 64 million people, or 20 percent of the U.S. population, lived with two or more adult generations.

FOR ANOTHER TAKE on what it's like when a college student moves back home, here's an essay from The Atlantic. Stuck at Home With My 20-Year-Old Daughter

The author, Todd Purdum, writes about his own reactions (The family of four together again for family dinners.) and talks to his daughter about what the adjustment has been like for her. Here's some of what she told her dad:

“One of the hardest things has been going—and for better or worse—going from being independent to suddenly living in my childhood bedroom again. I would go to the dining hall or I would cook for myself, but I would be on my own to secure three meals a day. And I would do my own laundry—and wouldn’t have to do other people’s laundry!”

“I just miss being a college student and making, you know, a fine but maybe mediocre dinner in someone’s communal kitchen. And having a sense of purpose.”

 

 

 

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."

 

Observation: Philip Galanes on keeping indulgent gifts to grown-up kids on the down low.

When our children were just starting their careers and in the midst of struggling to meet their rent, cell phone bill and car payments, we may have helped out--a car payment here, a refilled refrigerator there; dinner out or a new sweater in just the right color. If we could afford it, we enjoyed doing all that and maybe a little more.

But there comes a time when it's counterproductive, when it makes our grown children feel like they aren't independent adults.  In asking Philip Galanes in Social Qs what to do about parental overindulgence, a reader (a young woman in her 30s) described how it made her feel when her parents "keep buying things for me and my kids (groceries, toys, clothing) and refuse to let me pay for anything. I've told them we don't need gifts, but they ignore me. I feel awful."

Here's the advice Galanes handed out in how to deal with us--the parents who aren't giving our adult children the gift of acknowledging they are grown up and self sufficient adults.

Sit them down one quiet evening and say: “It’s largely thanks to you and your unwavering support that I’m in such good financial condition for my age. I hope you know that. And I think it’s time we put our relationship on more equal footing.”

Then, depending on your means (and inclination), buy them something you know they will appreciate: new winter coats, a gorgeous filet mignon from the butcher or a sunny weekend in Coral Gables. No need to become a spendthrift. Just try a loving gesture. It may wake them up to your well-founded gratitude and the true financial picture here.

This doesn't mean we can't pick up the check for dinner or surprise them with a beautiful sweater. It's just that it should be an occasional treat, not a habit.  And we should let them treat us occasionally too.

The Joy of Grandparenting: Do we need help to get it right?

"We're pregnant." That's often how our grown sons or daughters let us know they and their spouses are starting a new family. Whatever the wording and from whichever child it comes, the message is a joy to our ears. We have visions of cuddly grandbabies nuzzling up to our chins or taking their first step in our living rooms. Our hearts fill with the idea that there will be a new generation with whom to share our wisdom--to say nothing of a big chunk of our genes. We'll play with them. Be silly with them. Spoil them when their parents aren't around. Oh the fun we'll have.

We can get way ahead of ourselves and right from the start. We may make plans to be there for the birth--whether or not we're invited. Or decide to meet our little heirs the day after they take their first breath. Surprise! An unexpected visit from the grandparents who live thousands of miles away.

Whoa. It's concern about actions like these that have created a groundswell of courses on grandparenting. From New York to Seattle and on to Chicago and Houston there are classes on how to not mess up the grandparenting thing. Who would think advice is needed but grandparenting can be pretty complicated.

We may know best about burping and diaper changing and feeding schedules, but we are not in charge. Moreover, we aren't the only grandparents involved. Our child is not the only new parent in the family. In short, we can easily offend and strain relationships with our son- or daughter-in-law, or their parents. We need to tiptoe on those eggshells. It's important to get it right from the get-go.

“Ask your children what they need." That's the core of the advice Sally Tannen gives at a grandparenting class she teaches in New York City." ‘How can I help you?’ is probably the best gift you can give them,” she suggests. “It will go very far toward allowing relationships to flourish if they feel supported in their role as parents.”

Another key suggestion: “They’re feeling so vulnerable as new parents that they hear everything through the lens of criticism, no matter what we say. And they push us away. They want to be the bosses of their own lives and their own kids.”

Not that we didn't know that from our own experiences when we became new parents and our parents may have offered more advice than we wanted. But sometimes our grandparenting enthusiasm runs high and we forget what it was like for us.

We want to be helpful, but grandparenting is another and very similar page in parenting grown children: We have to remember not to try to take over.

 

Holidays without the Kids: Finding ways to make the best of it.

We are alone for the Holidays. Our children and grandchildren are elsewhere. This is the fallout from having children who marry spouses whose families have holiday traditions they want to honor with their presence. When our children were young, our tradition was to escape the hoopla and take the family skiing. But our children are grown now with families of their own, live in cities far from us and are creating their own ways of observing the Season.

We're not alone in this. There are lots of reasons why adult children spend their holidays with other parents or friends or doing something else. Many of us have found work-arounds. Some of our friends have time-shifted the holidays. That is, they pre-celebrated or are post-celebrating the holiday at a time and day more convenient to gathering everyone together. Good will to all.

But that still leaves the vacuum that is the day of the holiday itself. Christmas, in particular, can feel like the world has ghosted us, that everyone else is gathered around their living rooms, singing carols, opening gifts, eating Christmas dinner and thinking about peace and goodwill to man. (Well, maybe as an outsider looking in my imagination is over-firing.) But the fact remains that on Christmas day stores, restaurants, theaters, museums and other amusements have shut their doors. Shout out to movie theaters for keeping their screens lit.

What to do? Not all of us will over-compensate by crowding into Chinese restaurants. One set of friends whose children are otherwise occupied made reservations for Christmas dinner at a very chic--and fabulous--country inn. Friends of theirs--also without the company of the children from either his or her first marriages--will join them.

Other friends are leaving the country--off to Baja, Mexico to loll in the sun and enjoy water sports while their children celebrate the holidays skiing and hiking in the deep chill of New England.

And then there's always a good book, Netflix and freshly popped popcorn. Stream The Crown or Jack Ryan and, poof, before we know it, it's the day after.

Observation: Offering unsolicited advice to grown children is a no-win.

When it comes to raising their children, our sons and daughters are not perfect. Or maybe they are but their spouses have too heavy or light a hand. Correcting behavior or disciplining their children is a touchy business and when we get to see it up close and personally, we may not like it. We may even think they are taking the wrong approach--either too tough or not tough enough. We worry about our grandkids' pysches.

We need to get over it. When it comes to general advice, our kids rarely want to hear from us if they haven't asked. Child-raising advice doubles the ante. We can't win by butting in or making suggestions later.

Philip Galanes of Social Q's may or may not have to live with the zipped-shut mouth within his own family but he gives similar council more elegantly and with more practicality than I do. Here's his answer to a woman whose daughter-in-law yelled at and, from the grandmother's perspective, belittled her 17-year-old son during a family meal. After the event, the woman offered her daughter-in-law what she described as  "some advice you can take or leave.”  Result: daughter- in- law will no longer take her calls.

After advising the writer  to "Keep apologizing at regular intervals and hope for the best," Galanes offers this suggestion. It applies to all of us who have the urge to intervene when we see our grown children discipline their children and are sure we know a better way. (We may, but we've already had our shot.)

...If one person is treating another badly, the immediate need is comforting the victim, not asserting dominance over the aggressor. Better to have taken your grandson to a skateboard shop (or anyplace he likes), spoken to him kindly and let him vent. That may have done him some good and given you more context for understanding his difficulties with his mother, rather than starting a war with her that you can never win.

 

Emerging Adults: Big adjustments ahead as teenage kids morph into independent adults.

He's a psychologist who specializes in adolescence but Carl Pickhardt also has a lot to say about the next stage: young adults (roughly twenty-somethings)  and their natural and inevitable  independence from us, their loving and occasionally controlling parents. In a recent newsletter, he laid out the basic changes in our relationship with our grown-up young 'uns. This period of development, he notes,  is a time when our children have gained "functional independence and a sense of identity." That is, our newly minted adults should be able to tell themselves, "I’m on my own and I know who I am.” 

In the real world, young adults have their struggles coming to terms with this sense of independence and self awareness, but so do we. Let me quote Pickhardt on the range of losses we may feel as the transition takes place:

• Demotion: parents lose positional superiority. Interpersonal standing is now equitized.  “I can’t pull rank of ruling authority anymore.”

• Distance: parents lose central importance. Parents become more peripheral to young adult life. “I’m more of an outsider now.”

• Disappointment: parental expectations are unmet. Old dreams do not match the emerging reality.  “He didn’t turn out all the ways I anticipated.”

• Disapproval: parents don't like some daily decisions being made. In the young person’s place, they would choose differently.  “We don’t agree with her priorities.”

• Diversity: parents lose some old sense of similarity. The adult child life is increasingly unfamiliar. “Her lifestyle is so different from ours.”

• Despondency: parents lose accustomed contact. Primary intimacy and importance are found elsewhere. “I miss the old closeness we used to share.”  

• Deprivation: parents lose current information. They feel more out of touch with what is happening.  “I'm not regularly told what is going on.”

• Directness: parents lose spontaneity of communication. There is more talking carefully.  “I’m more diplomatic about what I say and how I say it.

How to adjust--while doing no harm. Pickhardt has a warning on how important it is that our children make the transition.

Proceeding as though your adult child will stay as family-centered as the adolescent usually doesn’t work too well. Instead, by emphasizing certain parental roles, more closeness can often grow. A few suggestions follow. 

• Parents can become cheerleaders – celebrating accomplishments.

• Parents can become supporters – providing listening. 

• Parents can become motivators – encouraging effort.

• Parents can become followers – expressing interest

• Parents can become mentors – advising when asked.

• Parents can become companions – providing welcome company.

• Parents can become independents – leading separate lives.

• Parents can become informants – sharing home and family news.

• Parents can become helpers – being on family call.

• Parents can become requestors -- asking for assistance.

It's the future we have been building towards--that day when our children will be independent, sentient beings who'll mature into adults who can, let us all hope, live productive lives and rise to the occasion of caring for us in our dotage.

 

Holidays with Grown Children: The good, better and stress of family togetherness

Why say it again. Here's a re-run from a year or two ago about the sweetness and the challenges of a "one big happy family" Thanksgiving.

            

 

Thanksgiving is a family get-together favorite--for the most part.

It's easy because there are no gifts, decorations or other "extras" to drive everyone to hyperventilate.

It's fun because it's a  gathering of several generations of family under one roof--plus the occasional "orphan" or two, which usually brightens the conversation.

It's simple because the meal is pre-ordained. In our family, we've settled into a routine of who will do what--especially the vegan variations. (Shout out to Whole Foods for its very edible vegan fruit pies and pumpkin pie.)

That said, Thanksgiving isn't all that stress free, especially for the parents of the grown children and the grandparents of their children. When the holiday means three to four days at the home of one of one's grown children--when the mantle of hosting has passed to the next generation--there can be a lot of uncomfortable "down time."

We who provide extra helping hands in the kitchen (the stuffing/dressing is my domain) do not feel it as much as those not drawn to kitchen duties. This was especially true this year when one of the Grands in whose home Thanksgiving now takes place turned 16 and was the very proud possessor of a brand-new driver's license. He was Volunteer #1 for any and all errands and store pick-ups. That meant Paterfamilias, who usually broke up the "down" time by running errands, was out of a job. Not fired so much as by-passed.

"Down" time aside, when our grown children and their spouses get together--our children don't live near each other or us--there is a lot of reconnecting. We see each of our grown children and their children several times during the year, but our grown children have fewer face-to-faces with each other. Long and short of it: We're a bit of a fifth wheel at the reunion. It is so wonderful to have both our children and all our grands together under one roof for at least 24 hours, but it is also a battle to feel relevant and be heard.

We should remember--though it's hard to reconcile ourselves to--Lao Tze's philosophic advice:

Your silence is as beautiful as the Harvest moon.

In another bit of poetic advice ("for the second half of life"), Lao Tze says this (as re-interpreted by William Martin in The Sage's Tao Te Ching):

Whatever your losses,

hope and happiness can be yours.

Act each day with compassion

for yourself and others.

Let each inhalation bring you peace

and each exhalation dispel your fears.

            

 

Thanksgiving is a family get-together favorite--for the most part.

It's easy because there are no gifts, decorations or other "extras" to drive everyone to hyperventilate.

It's fun because it's a  gathering of several generations of family under one roof--plus the occasional "orphan" or two, which usually brightens the conversation.

It's simple because the meal is pre-ordained. In our family, we've settled into a routine of who will do what--especially the vegan variations. (Shout out to Whole Foods for its very edible vegan fruit pies and pumpkin pie.)

That said, Thanksgiving isn't all that stress free, especially for the parents of the grown children and the grandparents of their children. When the holiday means three to four days at the home of one of one's grown children--when the mantle of hosting has passed to the next generation--there can be a lot of uncomfortable "down time."

We who provide extra helping hands in the kitchen (the stuffing/dressing is my domain) do not feel it as much as those not drawn to kitchen duties. This was especially true this year when one of the Grands in whose home Thanksgiving now takes place turned 16 and was the very proud possessor of a brand-new driver's license. He was Volunteer #1 for any and all errands and store pick-ups. That meant Paterfamilias, who usually broke up the "down" time by running errands, was out of a job. Not fired so much as by-passed.

"Down" time aside, when our grown children and their spouses get together--our children don't live near each other or us--there is a lot of reconnecting. We see each of our grown children and their children several times during the year, but our grown children have fewer face-to-faces with each other. Long and short of it: We're a bit of a fifth wheel at the reunion. It is so wonderful to have both our children and all our grands together under one roof for at least 24 hours, but it is also a battle to feel relevant and be heard.

We should remember--though it's hard to reconcile ourselves to--Lao Tze's philosophic advice:

Your silence is as beautiful as the Harvest moon.

In another bit of poetic advice ("for the second half of life"), Lao Tze says this (as re-interpreted by William Martin in The Sage's Tao Te Ching):

Whatever your losses,

hope and happiness can be yours.

Act each day with compassion

for yourself and others.

Let each inhalation bring you peace

and each exhalation dispel your fears.