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

Grandparenting: 10 reasons we can be terrible sitters

Reader alert: This could get ugly.The view from the trenches of our grown children is not always a pretty one. There's a blog out there called findababysitter.org that suggests that some of us should not be called on to babysit. I agree. Not all of us enjoy it--especially if it lasts more than an hour or two. And evidently, the feeling is mutual: Not all parents enjoy having their parents do it, even if the price seems right.

You can go to the site to read all 10 reasons. Some of them are cheap shots. See reason 2: "Concessions – For a moment’s peace, and the chance to perhaps recharge their pacemaker batteries, your folks are apt to give anything to your child."

Some are issues we who have grandchildren struggle with all the time. "Discipline – For better or worse, in a lot of ways our ideas about parenting differ from our parents. Your child’s grandparents may not be 100% on board with your own ideas about discipline, and how to raise your child."

But one really hits home. It's #8 on the list, and it gives one pause: "Privacy – Let’s be honest, some parents would just as soon not have their own parents spending any time in their homes unattended. For whatever reasons – and we don’t pry or judge here – you would prefer to have the neighbor’s daughter babysit instead. At least she just raids the fridge."

ooooph. Makes me want to re-read my Notes to Self and see the wisdom in keeping good housekeeping hints to ones self.

Emerging Adults: The guest room, the bedroom and your daughter's boyfriend

Times have changed; social mores too. But there still remains this issue: Your grown child comes home for the holidays (or just for a weekend visit) with a friend--as in boyfriend or girlfriend. They are a couple. At least they are in their eyes. Do you let them pile into your child's old bedroom together or do you provide separate sleeping quarters?

For parents of college-age children it may be a bigger issue than for those with older, single children. But not necessarily. I've read some "Ask Amy" letters where grandparents don't want their grandchildren "shacking up" with their lovers under their roof--even when the grandchild in question is in her 30s.  That said, the younger the child, the trickier the issue--even though we all assume that in this day and age, our adult children are sleeping with someone they consider a boyfriend or girlfriend. It's mainly a question of what goes on under your roof and what you find morally objectionable.

A mother posed the bedroom question to Social Q's. Her daughter, a freshman in college, was coming home for a visit with her first boyfriend. The home did not have a guest room--or any spare room. "I'm thrilled she wants to visit (and bring him)," the single mother writes, "but I don't know what the sleeping arrangements should be. Should I put him on the [living room] couch, or look the other way and let him stay with her?"

When my children were that age, I had the luxury of a guest room. I suggested luggage and other accouterments be dumped in that room, closed my door and paid no attention to final sleeping arrangements. Nor did I offer any suggestions as to my preferences. But this mother had a space problem. And Philip Galanes, who writes the Social Q's column for the New York Times, came up with his usual brilliant answer. I offer it to those who are struggling with this age-old problem:

"Once the baby birds have flown the coop, there are only two ways to lure them back: by making their visits congenial or by canceling their MasterCards. Opt for the former, Mother Dear.

"It doesn’t sound as if you have a moral objection to lodging the lovebirds together. If you do, simply disregard the balance of this answer and make up the living room sofa. Eighteen-year-old backs can handle much worse.

"But if it’s propriety you’re concerned about (or parental duty), you’ll fare better by phoning your daughter than gnashing your teeth with me. Say: “Honey, I’m trying to work out where Tom should sleep. What would make you most comfortable?”

 

Visiting Privileges: Traveling abroad with a grown child and his family

Last February, I went to Berlin to visit Alpha daughter and her family who were living there for a year. Berlin was cold, gray and dreary, but the visit was a dazzlingly bright time. There was a special warmth in spending a week with my daughter and her family and feeling their "thank you" for making the trip to see them when they were so far from home.

Last week, I went to Amsterdam to spend time with Uber son and his family, who were visiting that city for five days. This was more complicated than a simple visit to a daughter living abroad. Uber son was there on business and the host company had agreed to bring his wife and three children along. My son would be free two of the four days. I volunteered to hook up with them in Amsterdam, in part to be a pair of helping hands on the two days my son had to work, but also to see the city [never been there], be energized by a mid-winter get-away and spend time with Uber son and family [they live in a U.S. city far from mine]. And, as in Berlin, Amsterdam was gray and winter-dreary in late January but I never felt the cold.  

On this trip, I was--for my Grands and daughter-in-law--the familiar face in a city where the language is different [we may have high school French or Spanish tucked into the recesses of our brains, but not Dutch], the food unfamiliar [though the Dutch penchant for pannekoeken--pancakes--was easy to adopt] and many of the amusements on an adult level [the infamous red light district, Dutch history musems, a 17th century synagogue]. But, when my son went off to his meetings, my daughter-in-law, my three Grands and I explored the zoo, its aquarium and butterfly room. The whole family went off to the Van Gogh Museum where we got audio guides and the older kids [8 and 10] loved hearing about the painter's life story and learning how his art went from the dark of the Potato Eaters to the brilliant golden hues of the Sunflower paintings. We took the canal boat tour and for dinner one night, everyone was game to try rijsttafel--I appointed myself Assistant Chief Taster to make sure the different Indonesian dishes my Grands put on their plates of rice weren't too spicy for them. And I babysat the one evening my son and daughter-in-law went to a business dinner. 

I loved seeing Amsterdam. Even in the winter, it is a walkable and easy to visit city. I got to do some things on my own and many things with my son's family. But most of all, there is a special warmth in being there for your grown child and his family--and to share in the wonder of their family life. You feel it, and so do they.

Vacationing Togetherness: Two rules for avoiding friction

She's become a veteran at this: hosting her grown children and their families at the villa she rents in Tuscany. We won't go into how some people are really lucky about their vacation deals--she teaches Italian and needs to keep her skills fresh; he's a successful businessman [retired] and can afford to indulge this form of refreshment. Over the years of visits by grown children, other relatives, myriad friends and acquaintances, she has learned how to handle the extended [more than one night] visit.

Her first house rule for her children--two sons, each with a wife and two children--is simple: Keep 'em busy.

Before anybody arrives, she makes the daily plans. When they get there, she shares. Here's her rationale: "We never want a day when they can say, what are we going to do today? Or a day when they are just going to sit around the house and swim in the pool all day. I hand them a calendar when they arrive. It shows them what the plan is for each day. If they don't want to do it, they know in advance what's coming. We can negotiate and make another plan. Of course, they tend to stay with what I'm planning since I go with them and I'm the only one who speaks Italian. That makes it a lot easier for them to take trains to visit other cities, go out to lunch, understand the guided tour at the aquarium in Genoa."

Second house rule: visits are one family at a time: serial visits only, never together.

Her rationale: Too many opportunities for sibling rivalry, resentments over child-rearing practices and misunderstandings among family members. Besides, two sons, two daughters-in-law and four grandchildren would be too many people to get moving in one direction at a specified time. 

How do her kids take to this? One comes every year for a week. The other has made the trek to Italy only twice in six years. Their choice.

Holiday Togetherness: Playing the Thanksgiving football game

The day after Thanksgiving is a peaceful one. There's no more cooking to be done--it's a leftovers feast. Everyone's following favorite pursuits. At Thanksgiving Central for our family, the three granddaughters were doing something girly-girly together; Alpha daughter and my daughter-in-law were chatting. Outside, Uber son, my grandson, son-in-law  and Paterfamilias were tossing the football around. They had some sort of "game" going when I wandered outside, with John, a friend of the family who was spending Thanksgiving with us. We watched them heave the ball around and establish rules for two-handed touch. I suggested we join them.

It was not a universally popular move. John wasn't particularly keen to play but he was game. The four players--PF and SIL on one side, Uber son and grandson on the other--seemed taken aback. Not at John's joining in. What was I doing out there? Since Uber son and the 10-year-old Grand were the "better" team, we joined PF and SIL. PF wasn't happy. He grimaced when, once in the huddle, I suggested a "surprise" move: a running play! He could fake a pass to SIL or John, hand the ball to me and I would run with it. 

Ah, to have a photo of the faces of chagrin at my proposal. No. No. The game was all about the pass. But a few plays later, they relented. We ran the play. I took the ball, cradled it close to my midriff, hunched over, turned and started forward. PF tells me I did well--held the ball properly to avoid a fumble and lowered my shoulder to ward off players from the other team. Only I never quite picked up any speed. "You were standing still," is the way PF describes it when my Grand gave me the two-hand tag. A few plays later, when my Grand protested that it was 4 players to 2, I was immediately traded away to his team. He was too polite to protest.

Oh Well. I didn't cross the touchdown line on my running play. Or catch a pass. Or even come close. But I had a great time. So let's score one for the grannie. She got herself out there. Point made.

Holiday Togetherness: Calm, comaraderie and connection in the kitchen

We arrived for Thanksgiving at Uber Son's house on the Tuesday before the great feast. The idea was to help our daughter-in-law out--make it easier on her by either doing the shopping or watching the Grands or some combination of both. On Wednesday, while the older Grands went off to school, Uber son went to work and Paterfamilias took the laptop to Panera to edit a transcript, my daughter-in-law and I had the kitchen and all that cooking to ourselves--with occasional help from the 3-year-old who puttered around, climbed up on counters and "assisted."

What a perfectly wonderful day it was. All morning and most of the afternoon, my daughter-in-law and I kept each other company while we each prepared our share of the dishes. How companionable it was. We talked about everything and nothing, about how the kids were doing in school, what my son's plans were for the future, how their trip to London had been, how she was composting and what tips I had, and whether she should make her own pie crust [her idea] or use a frozen crust [my favorite shortcut]. We set the table, pre-cut everything for the salads and other side dishes, brined the turkey, pre-baked the stuffing, and finally made the crust and baked a blueberry-cranberry pie and a pumpkin pie.

Three days later, when I called from home to thank her for her gracious hosting of our family's Thanksgiving, she mentioned Wednesday and how nice it had been to spend time together in the quiet calm of the kitchen.

Talk about a Thanksgiving gift. Can't ask for more than that.

Grandparent Rivalry: The perils of proximity vs the longings of long-distance

When Lola's daughter had Lola's first set of grandchildren, Lola was just a tiny bit jealous of the other set of grandparents. They had sold their condo in Florida and moved to Nashville to be close to their only son and his children. They were there to do the burping and diaper changing; they were available for babysitting. They were there to see the first steps and hear the first words. They bought the pretty yellow and pink quilt for the granddaughter's first bed and, when their son and his family went away on vacation, they painted the child's room to match the quilt.

Lola, who lives 700 miles away, is the visiting grandparent. She sees all the other grandparent's influences and it makes her wonder whether her grandchildren will know and love her as much as they do the other grandparents. And even more to the point, whether she will have the same influence over them--the same input on family history and family values. 

If that was her concern when her grandchildren were toddlers, it is less so now. The grandchildren are teens and pre-teens. They no longer want their room painted by grandpa when they go out of town. And even more, Lola's daughter has her hands full with a mother-in-law who believes in order and imposes it wherever she goes--even in her son's house. She has redone kitchen closets, alphabetized the spice shelf, re-ordered her grandson's bookshelf and refolded her granddaughter's clothes.

This is not to say that either the grandchildren or the grown children love one set of parents/grandparents less. Only that there are irritations in proximity. The visiting grandparents are like visiting firemen--a novelty, a treat--and people whose advice or remembrance-of-things-past may come as a refreshing moment rather than an "here they go again."

A two-week stay with her daughter may be intense, but Lola leaves with the hope that they'll be glad to see her come again. And that her closeness to her grandchildren has nothing whatsoever to do with their relationship with the other grandparents. There's room for both. And just because they live nearby, doesn't mean they have more input into the way the grandchildren think about life, values and all the other important ways we hope to influence our children's children. One quality conversation with a child who's troubled about some issue can be the important idea that child carries with him or her. You never know where or when that moment is coming. It doesn't matter if we're a constant presence or a sometimes visitor to have it happen.

 

 

Parenting grown children: Keep helpful housekeeping hints to yourself.

One of my "notes to self" [see list to the left] is about housekeeping--a euphemism for putting our imprint on our grown child's home or for acting on "advice" by assuming it's wanted and warranted. This goes for dads as well as moms: No fixing things, no rearranging messy closets; no relining kitchen shelves--unless asked.

As Deborah Tannen points out in her book, "You're Wearing THAT?: Understanding Mothers and Daughters in Conversation," some of our housekeeping suggestions stem from concerns for their health and safety." Tannen describes a daughter's discomfort--a feeling that her mother was criticizing her husband--when the mother would come to visit and remind her daughter and son-in-law that "he should cut down the dying elm tree in the yard lest it fall and hurt somebody (it did eventually fall though no one was hurt), and replace the rotting step lest someone trip (it never was and no one ever did). Anyone would find these constant reminders annoying."But Tannen doesn't take the nagging parents to task. She addresses the grown children in saying, "Imagine the worry [the mother] endured each time she saw these threats to her loved ones' safety--and her frustration that they didn't undertake the simple repairs to eliminate the danger."

Point well taken. But, as Tannen points out, not all our observations, helpful hints and concerned commentary are so obviously linked to an urgent safety or health issue. Tannen describes a daughter who "cringed when her mother peered at the stove in her kitchen, lifting the protective pan under the grill to check to see whether the crumbs had been cleaned from beneath the pain--which, of course, they hadn't."

I may be overly sensitive on this point--I had such a mother; the grill pan was the least of it--but Tannen has given me a slightly different perspective on my reaction [grrrrr!) to my mother's good housekeeping exchanges. Rearranging my kitchen cabinets, re-doing my closets is not necessarily the criticism I took it to be. It's a problem of indirect communication. It can make an innocent remark or action come across as criticism. And indirectness. Tannen warns that the areas for setting off our grown child with an "innocent" comment are "the Big Three of appearance: hair, clothes, weight."

Made me feel fortunate that my mother stuck to the housekeeping.

 

Visiting Privileges: Making the trek to a cold clime

"Remember those news clips of the Beatles landing in the US in '64--the crowds going crazy, jumping up and down?" This is the question Alpha Daughter poses to Paterfamilias. It is also her report on the reception I received when I arrived in Berlin a few weeks ago to visit her and her family. My Grand--her 8-year-old daughter--was jumping up and down and shouting cheers of welcome when I was spotted coming into the international baggage claim area--separated from the waiting crowd by a huge glass wall.

There's April in Paris (chestnuts in blossom), and then there's February in Berlin (Lindens without leaves). It may not have the same zing to it, but I'll take Berlin. When your grown child and her family live in a city far from you--even if it's only for a year--that city can be infused with warmth and joy. It wasn't just the immediate reception. It lasted throughout the week-long visit. The pleasure of the visit was blending into their day to day lives--meeting Frau Shroeder [my Grand's teacher], taking my Grandpup and Grand for walks around Lake Schlachtensee to feed the ducks, riding the S-Bahn train through the Grunewald forest, having coffee at a cafe in Zohlendorf, meeting my daughter's friends and colleagues. One day we were a little more ambitious and tried to see the Collection of Classical Antiquities at the Pergamon Museum, but the line was so long on a Saturday afternoon--even though this is not tourist season--that we had to give up on it.

And then the week was up, and it was time to go home. Berlin may be gray and chilly in February but I remember it for the warm tug of being pulled into the life of my grown child and her family. I don't think I've ever felt quite so wanted--and appreciated for making the trek. Grown children are independent adults leading lives on their own course. But sometimes they need us.

Timing a Visit: How long should a visit to grownchildren and their families be?

Sometimes I wonder why I am so resistant to longer visits with my children [both of whom live in other cities]. I consider myself the master of the Blitzkrieg visit--in on a Saturday morning; out by Sunday evening, with lots of hugs, kisses, and grabbed conversations in between. You're gone before anyone gets on anyone's nerves.

But now, Alpha Daughter has moved to another country for a year--6 time zones away. I'll be going on my first visit there in a few weeks but clearly, the pure Blitzkrieg is out of the question. Nonetheless, I have a variation in mind: in for 2 or 3 days, off to another country to travel and tour, back for another 2 or 3 day visit, then home. I've shared the plan with my daughter--who was home with her child for a two-week visit--and she raised questions about it.  Why, she asked, do I prefer the short visit? After all, she pointed out, a longer one--and we have just been through this very long one successfully [no one got seriously disagreeable]--gives you a chance to get pulled into the daily rhythms of her family, to experience her child in a more personal way and gain greater understanding of their lives, as well as give you more opportunities for meaningful conversations.

What she says was certainly true of our two-week visit. So I think seriously about my short-visit preference. The only honest answer I can come up with is that my mother used to come to visit me for three weeks at a time.  She was intrusive and tried to impose her will on everything from how the house should be cleaned to how my children should be disciplined. How I hated those visits. I had a backache, stomach pain and hives by the time she left. The only plus side to the visits was the euphoria of relief when she left. So I've gone in the opposite direction. But my daughter's question makes me wonder if I'm so busy NOT being my mother that I'm giving up on some of the joys of parenting adult children and getting to know my grandchildren for better and occasionally worse.