PenPenWrites

parenting blog, memoir notes, family punchlines & more

© Penelope Lemov and Parenting Grown Children, 2025. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Rothko untitled1

    Many of us take great pleasure in helping out our children financially. If we have the wherewithal we're likely to help them with a downpayment to buy a house. (Roughly 20 percent of U.S. homeowners received gifts or loans to help them buy a home, according to Money Magazine, and most of that money came from us–parents of grown children. Money Mag tells us that if the “Bank of Mom and Dad” were a true business, it would be the seventh biggest mortgage lender in the country.)

    There is at least one hitch to all this Mom and Dad banking. If we have more than one child, they can get ensnarled in bad feelings–toward us, toward each other–over money we've given one child and not the other or others. The business of giving them what we might call "an advance on their inheritance" can be trickier than writing a will. With the 'advance on inheritance" we're still around to feel the sting if one child feels favored over another.

    In a letter to Philip Galanes and his Social Qs column, a reader was feeling that kind of slight.  Her parents had let her know that they had given her sister "a chunk of money to help with a down payment on a house." They told her she wouldn't be receiving a matching sum and for a rational reason: The writer and her husband already owned a house, which they were able to buy with a generous gift from his parents. "My parents aren’t wealthy, so I understand their decision. Still, it stings!" From her perspective, the money they gave to her sister signifies that the parents love her sister more than they love her.  The writer wants to know whether to raise her grievance with her parents.

    Galanes reminds the reader and all of us that the parents’ money is theirs. "Whether they are fabulously rich or just squeaking by, they can spend it however they like. And adult children have no entitlement to it."

    Over and beyond that, Galanes acknowledges that "sibling rivalry for parental love can be painful" and that the writer should talk to her parents about their decision. But his final reminder in this family drama is one we should all take into account at gift giving or will-writing time:

    And for parents: If you intend to make unequal gifts, it can be helpful to discuss the issue in advance. Feelings about parental gifts can run strong!

    We are free to do with our money as we see fit. We don't owe our children anything now or in the future. But that's not really the point. What we do owe them is a sense of fair play–an explanation of why we've chosen to do as we have and why, especially when we choose to help one child and not another.

    painting: Rothko, Untitled

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Red dance Kenneth Young

    When I first got into the business of being a grandparent–PenPen to my son's and daughter's children–it was at a time when, not surprisingly, many of my friends were starter-grandparents as well. A common topic of conversation–or should I say stress–was the worry that the "other" grandparents would be favored, would be more "loved" than they, would have more say in their grandchildren's lives.

    Some of this rivalry seemed to be driven by proximity or the lack of it. One friend who lived in New Hampshire and had three grandchildren (her daughter's children) living in Atlanta was convinced that the paternal grandparents who lived in Georgia were more beloved. They were available to babysit in a pinch and offer summer swims in their pool. Although my friend and an indulgent step-granddad visited often, my friend lamented her second-place position.  Her exhibit A: Her daughter had texted her a photo of the granddaughter's newly refurbished room–puffy pillows, bouncy curtains and a sateen bed quilt that hosted a Noah's Ark of stuffed animals.  The other grandma, who had a key to her son and daughter-in-law's house, had surprised the family by re-doing the room while they were away on vacation.  How, my friend worried, could she compete with that.

    Now comes research that should give my friend comfort. There is a  “matrilineal advantage” and it gives maternal grandmothers an advantage over the paternal ones. There are dysfunctional mother-daughter relationships, of course, but in general mothers and daughters have closer ties than mothers and daughters-in-law, and that, the research contends, leads to warmer relationships between the grandchildren and the maternal grannie.

    “The mother-daughter dyads engage in more frequent phone contact, more emotional support and advice — more than mothers do with sons or fathers with daughters.” This is what Karen Fingerman, a professor at the University of Texas, Austin, who has published studies on this topic, told Paula Span of the NYTimes.

    As to a mother's ties to her son's children, it's all about the relationship to her daughter-in-law.  Dr. Fingerman reported that she has found that parents’ rapport with a daughter-in-law — “a key figure” — significantly influences their bond with her children. The mother–whether she's a daughter or a daughter-in-law–is the gatekeeper and she can help or harm grandparental closeness.

    As to my friend from New Hampshire, she can rest easy for another reason. Her daughter (and her granddaughter) were less than pleased that the other grandma had taken it upon herself to redecorate on her own and without consultation the child's room. There is a matter of overstepping boundaries and that's where proximity can be a negative.

    painting: Red Dance by Kenneth Young

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Baillargeon_AuCoeurdelaVie

    Labor Day Weekend is a chance to step back and take stock as our kids and grandkids make their way through various transitions. "Summer" is over. The worst of the pandemic and its quarantines is behind us and yet it lingers.  Young-adult kids and grandkids are starting their school year with masks, social distancing and Covid-testing part of the daily routine. But those unpleasantries are dwarfed by this: They are back in the classroom, mixing with friends and meeting their teachers. Their parents–our older adult children–are returning to offices where their work-life is being transformed in ways that may make their personal lives easier.

    Many of us more senior parents feel, as I do, like we are sitting on the sidelines watching these moments unfold. If we've retired, our transitions may be less marked. Maybe that's why I am using this weekend to sop up the signs of positive growth as my grandkids inch toward independence and my children reap the results of effective parenting. There are worries that one child is disappointed about their dorm, that another will become homesick living so far from home or that the youngest and smallest won't make friends at a new school. But I'm not their parents. I'm not involved in the quotidian work of parenting. I'm a silent observer–and if asked, a friendly consultant.

    Right now, the year that gets kicked off by the fall season looks full of potential. There's a world of possibilities out there for our kids and us. With my inner Dr. Pangloss activated, I've luxuriated in a weekend of focusing on the good stuff. That's a grannie's prerogative.

    painting: Au Coeur de la Vie by Baillargeon.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Travel Monet bridge at argenteuil

    Our son sent his oldest child back to college and his oldest daughter off to Roma for a gap year of study abroad. He still has one child at home but his heart is aching. As his two eldest headed off, he managed, he tells me, not to tear up in front of them.

    He also tells me he has come to appreciate how we did the same for him and his sister. "I had no idea," he says, "how hard it is and how hard it must have been for you and dad." I am not violating his privacy when I repeat the following words since he posted this wry take on his Facebook page: "Two of my three kids are leaving in the next few days, starting this morning. If I'd known how hard their leaving was going to be, I never would have encouraged all of this "go to college" business when they were little."

    On the morning after his daughter flew off to Rome, he called to let me know she had landed safely, made her way to the appartamento she and two other students had rented, registered at the school where she would be taking classes and bought supplies at a nearby grocery store. Dinner will be ramen and nectarines. The other girls will not arrive for another day or two. My Grand and her parents were texting every step along the way–from airport landing to getting a sim card to figuring out the tricky lock on the appartamento door. She did all this with only 4-weeks worth of Duolingo Italian stuffed into her brain. My son is so proud of her for the confident way she figured things out and so happy that she is embarking on this avventura.  But he is heart-heavy. She is now so far away. He misses her.

    He wanted to know how we managed to keep the pain of parting from him and his sister. I reminded him that when he left home for college, there was no Internet, no texting, no email. There was only a landline and the mailbox. We couldn't have shared the immediacy of our sadness even if we had been inclined to–which we weren't. Like him today, we did not want to weigh him down with our blues. We only let him see the pleasure we were taking in his launch.

    So excuse me while I deliver pats on our own backs. We were able to show our children how to let go gracefully. It wasn't intentional and it may not seem like much. But evidently, it was.

    painting: Monet. Bridge at Argenteuil

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Cezanne-still-life-basket-small

    I don't have many rules in my life, but one "good deed" I live by is this: When I give my children or grandchildren a gift,  I attach no strings. No rules about how the gift–be it financial, a tangible good or a service–should be used. If I don't trust them to use the gift responsibly, I don't give it.

    There's another kind of string some of us may attach to a gift. We may want the gift acknowledged on a regular basis. That is, our kids can't thank us often enough for whatever it is we gave them. Or as a variation on that theme, we may use the gift as blackmail for future favors or requests, as in "This favor is the least you can do for me since I gave you …..whatever."

    I was reminded of this second version of "strings attached" by a Carolyn Hax column in which a reader wrote to complain that her in-laws, who had helped her and their son's family by babysitting their very young children–two under the age of four. The young couple couldn't afford child care and both needed to work. The in-laws stepped up, drove an hour each way to babysit the grandkids three days a week for a year. Now that the young mother and father are able to afford good, nearby child care, the in-laws "cannot seem to stop 'calling in' this old debt" even though "they are thanked regularly and graciously." That is, when the in-laws want the couple to visit with their children–during Covid this meant driving 50 miles to stand outside their house and wave–they pressure the young family to make the visit by reminding them of the gift of babysitting for a year. "This has led me to realize that whenever my in-laws want something," the daughter-in-law writes, "they default to reminding us (subtly or not-so-subtly) about that period when we were entirely dependent on them to keep our family running."

    Hax's advice to the writer was for her and her husband to remind the parents "that you are both grateful beyond your ability to express for the year of child care." But then "tune out the guilt noise and make your own decisions for your own reasons."

    I read this vignette and it reminds me how attaching strings to gifts engenders ill will. The reason I refuse to turn my gifts into debts is totally selfish: I do it to preserve a positive relationship with my children. No one likes a blackmailer, even if the bounty is only an emotional one.

    painting: Cezanne, Still Life with Basket

     

     

     

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Sunday_in_the_Park seurat

    Ah, the traditions of summer vacations. We have friends with a home on Cape Cod–no running water in the kitchen sink or the, um, throne room. But that's another story. The house had been passed down in the family for generations. Today, whenever their kids, now grown, bring a friend to the summer house for a visit, there are stops that the visitor needs to be introduced to. The places that represent a rite of the family's summer traditions–the hidden beach where the family built over-large sandcastles till the tide carried them away; the lake where they paddled a canoe at sunset.  

    We had no house passed down to us. Nor did we buy one. But starting when our children were very small, we drove to Vermont every summer for a two-week vacation. We would rent a two-bedroom apartment or, as our earning power increased, a townhouse near a ski resort.  We would hike, play tennis, skip stones across mountain brooks, swim at the local swimming hole. Our kids learned to pick wild raspberries and eat them with breakfast. On Friday afternoons a farmer brought a huge plastic trash can full of just-picked corn to a spot near a gas station.  We would buy a dozen. The taste was unlike the city corn we were used to.

    When our kids hit their late teens and young adulthood, those trips to Vermont were put on hold. Our children had summer jobs, friends to visit and plans of their own. Instead of heading for summer in ski country, we the parents pivoted: We went on bicycling adventures abroad.

    The trips to Vermont didn't start up again until our kids were parents themselves. We would rent a large townhouse–this time within a resort near Stowe and its summer delight of a 7-mile long bike path that ran from town, through forested glens and to the foot of the mountain. Our kids and their young families would join us for the week. Eventually our son rented his own place and made summer vacations in Vermont his family's own. We rented a unit near his but it was at a time of his family's convenience, not ours. After all, they led busier lives and had more moving parts to consider. When they were in Stowe they developed their own traditions–swimming in the rain, climbing the rocks at the nearby brook. We joined them at the swimming pool on sunny afternoons to watch our grandchildren do handstands in the water. Idyllic moments in the bright sun of Vermont.

    Time moves on. Children grow up. Our son's two oldest children now have summer jobs, friends to visit and plans of their own. He managed to find a week when all three of his children could come up for part of the week in Vermont.  The older children had little interest in splashing in the pool rain or shine. We were unable to join them.

    Vermont family vacations are on hiatus again–certainly for us and possibly for our grown son as well He's at the point we were when he was a teenager and outgrowing the family Vermont trip. But the cycle will likely repeat in another decade or so. If there is a generation of great-grandkids to splash in the pool, we may fly up there for the pure pleasure of watching them.

    painting: A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, G. Seurat

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    CoronaMona

    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.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Readers theresa bernstein
    During the pandemic lockdown many of us experienced a strange shift in the balance between us and our grown kids: Instead of our previous parental controls, they were "ordering" us around–telling us we had to stay home, stop going out to buy groceries and order take-out food delivered.

    It came, of course, from an overabundance of care that we were in the over-60 group that was prone to deadly Covid attacks.

    Well, the pandemic is mostly over. We're vaccinated now. We're able to shop at supermarkets without our masks on–and without admonitions from our children. But as the fog of the pandemic clears, there's still some re-balancing going on. These are of a lower level than the "pandemic orders." And yet, the old order changeth yielding place to the new.

    One mom tells me that for most of her daughter's high school years, the daughter borrowed her mom's clothes–appropriated might be a better word. Now her young adult daughter sheds her clothes in a mini-moment of style. The mom picks up the discards and is now wearing them. It almost never happens that the daughter wants to be seen in her mom's sweaters.

    Then there's the dad who loved to introduce his pre-teen son and daughters to a beloved book or watch his favorite old movies with them. Now that they're young adults, they are introducing him to music he never heard before, to dance crazes that are part of their world and to poets with whom he is totally unfamiliar. He's happy to learn all about the new world but he's rarely the one who comes up with cultural touchstones anymore.

    Among those of us who have kids older than the young adult stage, we may be surprised at how influential their voice can be. A friend whose husband had balance problems but refused to use a cane found the adult daughters sending their dad a handsomely carved, wooden, walking stick. It was better looking than the sensible cane his wife was pushing. And, because it came from his kids, somehow he found it more acceptable. A rebalancing act.

    painting: Readers by Theresa Bernstein

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Picasso Femme_au_caféThe pandemic was difficult for everyone. As parents of grown children, some of us couldn't see our kids or grandkids–no hugs, no in-person visits. Infants and toddlers had no "village" to support them or playdates to socialize them. School-age kids–well, the school year was a disaster for many of them. Our grown kids, especially the twenty-somethings, also suffered. Whether they moved back home with us or toughed it out with a roommate or spouse, the isolation of the shut-down disrupted their friendships and romantic relationships as well as their work life. Many of them lost what one clinical social worker calls "the rhythm of living."

    Here's what some recent findings show:

    –43.6 percent of adults 18 to 29 self-reported that they experienced symptoms of an anxiety or depressive disorder in the previous seven days between May 26 and June 7, according to the Centers for Diseases Control and Prevention’s Household Pulse Survey

    –34 percent of those 18 to 23 said their mental health has worsened compared with before the pandemic, according to the  2020 Stress in America survey by the American Psychological Association. That number is higher than any other generation.

    All of which suggests we may want to offer our adult kids a little extra measure of compassion. This NYTimes article sets out some effective strategies for helping our kids find help if they're struggling.

    Avoid lecturing. It comes across as criticism and may shut down the lines of communication. "Start by asking questions that help parents understand how the young adult is hurting, with language like: “How’s your mood these days? You’re doing so much.”

    Don't try to solve their problems. Instead, let them know you've heard what they've said. For instance, they might say they get yelled at by their supervisor. Tell them you're sorry they're experiencing that. That might open the door to suggesting they get help, but if it doesn't, let them know you would be happy to partner with them in thinking about possible solutions.

    Normalize the situation. Tell your child that many people struggle with their mental health and that it often helps to talk to someone about how they’re feeling. “Let them know that you will be with them every step of the way” and help them get to a better place."

    Normalize a decision to get help. That is, help them see that treating mental health is just like treating a physical ailment. "Conveying the message that mental health issues are similarly treatable provides a 'sense of hope.' ”
     
    painting: Picasso. Femme au cafe

     


     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Maia leopard

    We have come through (are still in) harrowing times–not just the pandemic but partisan divides and a Fascist-like call-out of one group or another. It isn't just Twitter storms or Facebook harangues. As any of us who follow the news know, violence against people from various ethnic or religious groups is on the rise here.

    I bring this up now because some of us have been sheltering our grown children during the pandemic–colleges went virtual; so did jobs. Many of our kids who had been living independently came home. Now, with vaccinations making colleges and workplaces safe again, our grown children have been emptying or re-emptying the nest. Those of college age will be leaving by September.

    We all worry about our children's safety as they venture out into the world, but what do we do if our kids fall into any of the groups currently under attack by…I'm a little stuck for a word here; I'll go with the Intolerant and Ignorant.

    A recent NYTimes piece on nest-emptying offered some advice about intra-family communication in dangerous times. With violence against Asians currently front and enter in the news, the article addressed their concerns in particular. 

    Here's the relevant excerpt from the article:   

    Even as vaccinations make the risk of the coronavirus less dire, some families have other reasons to fear for each other’s safety. Ms. Tabag [Kari Tabag, a licensed clinical social worker and professor at Adelphi University] works with several Asian families and says that, in the wake of Asian hate crimes, parents are worried that they can’t protect their children. They used to end conversations with, “I love you. Take care,” she said. “Now it’s ‘Stay safe.’” At the same time, some children she works with fear they can’t be there to protect their parents.

    Ms. Tabag said that filial piety is ingrained in Asian children, who are expected to listen, follow directives and not speak back to parents and elders. She believes open communication between parents and children involving concerns about acts of hatred is important. “Asian parents need to speak with their children and disclose their concerns for their safety. This gives the green light for children to open up to their parents and voice their concerns about their parent’s safety.”

    photo credit: Maia Lemov