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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.

    Feed at birdhouse
    The pressure on Chinese parents to help their Millennial-aged children buy a home is a jaw-dropper.  The Chinese one-family policy plus the urbanization of the economy  is creating a generation of Little Emperors  that have high expectations for how much their parents will do for them in terms of housing.  With housing tight in urban areas and unaffordable at the salaries the Little Emperors are earning, Chinese millennials are looking to their parents to help with the down payment on a house as well as a hefty assist with the mortgage payments.

    It's a familiar story–at least the housing part of it.

    In Australia, where there's a housing crunch too, a study of 2017 home purchases found that more than half–55 percent–of first-home buyers got a financial boost from their parents. It's quite a leap for the land down under. In 2010, only 3.3 percent of first-time buyers got help from mom and dad.

    Here in the U.S., the pressure also starts at home. According to a recent analysis of census data by Zillow, in 2005 roughly 14 percent of millennials (ages 24 to 36) lived at home with mom and dad; today, it's nearly 23 percent. They're there for a variety of reasons but chief among them is the cost of housing in urban areas, which is outpacing wages.

    Both millennials and their parents would like to see the youngsters move out and into a home of their own, and parents are helping make that happen.  A 2018 survey by the  National Association of Realtors found that, among homebuyers who made a down payment, 23 percent of those 37 and younger had the wherewithal of a gift and 6 percent a loan from family or friends — the highest proportion for either type of assistance among all age groups.

    Feels like help with a down payment is becoming a universal language of love–or for parents who can afford it, a loving necessity.

     

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

    Job search

    You may find this hard to believe– I did. But there are those among us who are taking a few dubious extra steps in helping our kids find a job. Where we used to assist by fine tuning a resume or buying them  interview clothes, a few of us are now marching to the job interview with our kids or even sitting in on that interview.

    No wonder Alison Green says that some of us "intervene shamelessly in our children's professional lives." Green, who runs a website called Ask a Manager and Slate's Direct Report,usually sticks to general workplace advice aimed at work-seekers and workers. But she's also had some things to say about the "shameless" stuff.

    When it comes to advice, the most common type of parent misstep falls under the umbrella of gumption. It’s the idea that to get a job, you need to impress an employer with your persistence and resourcefulness, often by doing things that in other contexts would be considered aggressive or even creepy.

    Green's real-life example: A parent advising a recent college grad to make the rounds of offices and drop off a resume–or even insist on seeing the hiring manager.

    Green points out how totally out of date that idea is:

    For the record, while the idea of getting a job by “pounding the pavement” remains deeply popular among parents of twenty- and thirty- somethings, it doesn’t work in most fields these days, where employers generally want candidates to apply online and not show up with a résumé without an appointment for an interview.

    Green also points to a whole category of bad parental advice "rooted in the sweet but misguided faith that employers will surely be blown away by how impressive their children are." A college adviser told Green that a father, who accompanied his daughter to the meeting with the adviser, accused the adviser of sabotaging his daughter's job search. He thought entry-level positions were beneath his daughter–even though she was 21 with no work or volunteer experience at all–and insisted the daughter apply for mid-level positions because “that shows initiative and drive.”

    To Green, the most troubling issue is that some parents haven’t accepted that their adult children can–and should–manage their professional lives themselves. Even when their child lands a job, some parents, she reports, call an employer and ask why their child was not given a promotion or raise or singled out for praise.

    These parents are doing their kids no favors. Not every employer will bother to ask, “Does your kid know that you’re calling us?” and instead will assume that the kid knows about and has condoned the parent’s interference … which will get them tagged as immature and out of touch with professional norms at best and difficult at worst.

    Green's advice to children caught up in these forms of helicopter-parent advice is to limit how much information they give their parents so that the parents will have fewer opportunities to interfere.

    Not exactly what we're aiming for when our kids are going through the grueling job of finding a job.

     

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

    Sidebar

    As we age and head toward or are in retirement from our day-to-day jobs, do we dwell on the past too much? It's a question I've asked myself, in part because it can be a drag on our lives and on our grown kids and grandkids. It can be charming to refer back, to say, "When I was your age…." but it's only charming if it's a once-in-a-while thing.

    Yes, it's important as I've written in previous posts, to leave a legacy–to let our grown kids and grandkids know who we are, what we've done with our lives, what our values are.  We don't have to wait till we're no longer around to let our Wills or "last thoughts" memos let them know what we've found meaningful in life and how we found it.

    But it's also important to be moving forward–whatever age we are. As financial writer Carl Richards noted in a recent column,  he could feel the energy change in the room when he got together with two friends from his high school days. After they reminisced for a bit, the conversation shifted from the past to the future.

    Here's how he described the moment:

    It started simply enough, with one of us asking, “If we were having tea three years from now in this exact same place, sitting in these exact same chairs, what would need to happen for each of us to be happy with those three years?”

    Talking about high school was great, but this was so much better. You could immediately feel energy and confidence enter the room as we started scheming.

    Turns out, we are not the first people to entertain this question. Dan Sullivan wrote an entire book about it. In “The Dan Sullivan Question,” he talks about designing a question to help people make their future seem bigger than their past. “The moment your past becomes bigger than your future, you die,” he said, when I eventually heard him speaking on a podcast.

    I read that and asked myself, does that apply to me and my relationship with my grown children? Am I able to bring something new and energizing to my conversations with them? Do I have something interesting to say about what I'm doing in the here and now or am planning to do? How much more vital I feel when the conversation is not just about what they're up to (what a burden on them) or what I thought or did 20 years ago.

    In her search for a formula for happiness, happiness guru Gretchen Rubin found Aha! moment in a line from William Yeats:

    “Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that, but simply growth. We are happy when we are growing.”

    Here's what Gretchen had to say about that moment of discovery:

    That word, "growing," snapped everything into place. Of course. Growth. Growth helps explain the happiness brought by children, by gardens, by pay raises, by stamp collections, by training for a marathon, or learning to use PhotoShop, or cooking your way through a Julia Childs cookbook.

    All of which is a long way of saying, it made me realize that we who are of a certain age and at a certain stage in life need to keep on truckin'–be it a project to work on, a class to go to, a trip to take. Whatever it is, I find the forward movement not only makes me happy but helps me bring energy to my conversations with my grown- and grandkids. It helps me makes sure I'm maintaining a life independent of theirs.

    That is what we want, right?

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

    Philipgalanes
    The mother finds her son's latest love interest "a wonderful woman: kind, hard-working, self-made." So far so good. In a letter to Philip Galanes at Social Qs she writes that she would be pleased if her son married her. The mother's only problem: the wonderful woman practices a dining custom of her culture where "people lick their knives during meals." Looking ahead, the mother who may be future mother-in-law to this "kind, hardworking" woman is worried that any children her son and this woman have will pick up the knife licking habit and that the extended family will hold her grandchildren up to ridicule. How should she broach the knife-licking habit with her possible daughter-in-law.

    Knife licking may not be something any of us are faced with, but we all may have had concerns about an unfortunate habit–or culturally based idiosyncrasy–that we would like our daughter- or son-in-law or our child's life partner to curb. So what does Philip Galanes say we can do about such matters?

    "If she and your son marry and produce offspring, you will be entitled to express grandparental concern about sharp objects in tiny mouths. But that's a problem for a far-off day. You've done very well to keep quiet about cutlery to date, and I encourage you to keep it up. A supportive mother-in-law trumps a Westernizing etiquette coach every day of the week."

     

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

    Thinker
    It's always a thrill to get together with our grown kids and their kids, to be absorbed, however temporarily, into their family routine and culture. For those of us whose grown children live beyond the reach of a casual Sunday dinner, the visits in and of themselves are gifts. So, when something extraordinary or insightful happens, the gift moves into the treasure category.

    What could be more of a treasure than to hear our high-school aged grand kids use their critical faculties in ways that open our eyes to their understanding of the world and how it works.

    We had such a treasure when our son and his family were visiting us for a weekend this summer. The reason for the visit: a soccer tournament in which the oldest grandchild's team was participating. Weather being weather and thunderstorms being a tournament buzz kill, we ended up sitting around our living room amid the wreckage of cancelled games.

    Our son had in hand 16 essays from finalists for a small stipend for their freshmen year in college. He read them aloud to get our critical input, with our grandkids as additional in-house critics.

    We adults brought to our comments on the short essays, which were written by kids who were graduating from inner-city high schools and who had lived in and with poverty.  We were going to advise as to which three finalists should win the stipend. To the task, we adults brought the wisdom of our life experiences but also our unconscious biases. Our two teenage grands are closer to the ground–closer in age to the kids writing the essays about their life experiences and to teen life in general. They were much more understanding of some of the shortcomings in the essays, and surprisingly harsher on others. One exceptionally well-crafted essay they suspected of leaning on a formula of what one was supposed to say. A less elegant but emotionally direct essay they saw as an authentic reflection of obstacles this youngster had to overcome and where he hoped to go in life–not necessarily to a place that we, as adults, saw as aspirational enough.

    I was struck by the seriousness of purpose our grands applied to the task and their ability to understand the essayists at a level where we as adults had to struggle.

    The lesson I took away from this: As grandchildren grow into teens and young adults they have points of view that add to our understanding of the world, though we usually think it's the other way around.

     

     

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

    Malia-obama-

    I know, I know: This is not what Obama's Sept 7 speech was all about. But hear me out: Those of us who are parents of adult children–especially young adult children leaving the nest and going off to college–can't help but notice that in his opening remarks he took note of parental pain and shared his with us.

    Here's what he had to say at the University of Illinois 

    … now that I have a daughter in college, I can tell all of the students here, your parents suffer. They cry privately. It is brutal. So please call. Send a text. We need to hear from you, just a little something.

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

      VGogh reading book

    Given the teen preference for texting, an email this summer from a granddaughter in Massachusetts to me in Maryland was a surprise. The subject line even more intriguing: Is this You? it read. The body of the email held links to articles I'd written. A click and I was reading stories I'd penned for various newspapers and magazines–one from 1978; another, 1983.

    Why was my 15-year-old granddaughter sending me links to long-ago and far-away articles? Why, in short, had she Googled me?

    The prosaic answer was this: She was applying to a summer program in journalism and had to write an essay about her interest in communications and the media. One paragraph was about her grandmother (that's me) being a journalist, and she evidently checked that out–looked for proof–by calling up some of my stories.

    I am still a journalist–part-time now. But when my granddaughter was born and until she turned 11 I was a full time editor at a national magazine, having worked my way up from staff writer. 

    That being so, the question nags at me: Why did she have to Google me to find out about my standing as a journalist? When I asked the grandfather (aka my husband and a lawyer who once worked for the U.S. Congress) what he thought, he reminisced about all the legal and political issues he had shared with this granddaughter once she was old- or interested-enough to understand.

    I had not. My granddaughter knew I worked but I never talked to her about my career. When I went to visit her or she came here, I kept my grandparenting focused on the quotidian. I was observing, getting a feel for what she cared about, thought about, was interested in and how I could add background, anecdotes or information to her concerns. I didn't bring my world to her.

    I must have shared a funny story or two–in search of a story we journalists are a riot. Sometimes. But I hadn't discussed what I wrote about or the many climbs and plateaus, hurdles and high points I faced–from my first job answering letters to the editor at Time Inc to ending up as an editor and  columnist on municipal finance at Governing Magazine.

    "She absorbed some of it by looking around," my daughter said when I brought up the missed opportunities. My home-office, which doubled as my granddaughter's bedroom when she came to visit, had various memorabilia hung on the wall for my own viewing pleasure–a plaque for a journalism award, a "joke" Washingtonian cover with my face on it.

    If I ever finish the memoir I'm writing about my years at Time Inc (an aggressively sexist time in the work place in general, in journalism in particular and at Time especially), my children and grandchildren will know more about what this grannie did with her life. It's an important part of the legacy we leave. The life choices we made reflect our values and give our children and grandchildren at least one road map–hopefully among many others–about what paths there are in life and ways to deal with some of the stickier issues those paths can throw at you.

    The written version is where I'm heading in terms of explaining myself and my world to my grown children (it's astonishing what they don't know) and grandchildren. In the meantime, the idea that my granddaughter had to Google me to learn about my career is a reminder (note to self) to share the past–the good stories, fun anecdotes, and rich experiences–with our family in the here and now. It's an on-going story, even if we capture it in a final written or video'd form some time down the road.

     

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

    Philipgalanes

    Philip Galanes by Durell Godfrey

    A woman has griped to her daughter about the daughter's husband–that he treats her and her spouse dismissively, is always checking his cellphone messages in her presence and doesn't help his wife (the woman's daughter) around the house. She has complained to her daughter about this but the daughter has not responded positively.

    Neither does Philip Galanes at Social Qs. His advice, which applies to all of us who may not be happy with out grown child's choice of a life companion:

    I get that you’re protective of your daughter (and offended), but she didn’t ask for an assessment of her marriage. Even if you’re right on all counts — your son-in-law is a jerk — what upside did you imagine in telling her? Do you think she’s unaware of her husband’s bad qualities? Mightn’t he also have good ones that he reveals in private?

    The smarter play for parents of adult kids with partners is to find something (anything!) to admire in the mates — their business acumen, tennis games or bonds with their children. You’re not off to a great start, but it may not be too late. Become a vocal fan of your son-in-law.

     

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

    Vangogh blue room
     
    So maybe you were thinking home office or crafts room or even a man cave. When the kids leave for college or for their first self-supporting job, thoughts of repurposing their bedrooms may dance in your head. After all, they've gone off to start their independent lives. They probably will not live with you again full-time. All they need when they come home for the holidays or for a brief respite  is a place to crash.

    Not so fast, is the advice of Carl Pickhardt. Newly minted adult children can be unmoored by no longer having their bedroom to come home to. Writing in Psychology Today, he says that at this major jumping off place (leaving home to live independently), "it’s emotionally important to know that one has a family belonging place to return to, whether to visit for pleasure or for an emergency stay when there may be a need to boomerang home for a while."

    Our recent grads may be adults, but he suggests that it's best not to think of this first foray into independence as a final “departure.” They are at the beginning of a “transition into more independence,” Pickhardt writes, adding these points:

    *For many young people, it takes some measure of courage to move out and on into a new and different residence. To help make this move feel safe, parents can act to make membership in family remain secure.

    *Parents often underestimate the difficulty of the last leg of growing up…. The demands for adequate self-care, the risky temptations offered by unsettled peers, the hardship of maintaining self-discipline, the increased availability of recreational drugs, the uncertainty of direction in life, and the widening scope of personal responsibility, these all conspire to make this final adolescent passage challenging indeed. 

    *Unless parents have pressing practical needs to the contrary, I suggest not immediately repurposing the bedroom of an adolescent who is off at college, or otherwise starting to live away from home. Better, I believe, to keep that space as is for a few years, and for the young person to know that her or his family place is being securely held.

     

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

    Marriage painting

    GIOVANNI FRANCESCO DA RIMINI  – Le Mariage de la Vierge

    Two years ago, when a co-worker was in the throes of being a first-time grandmother, she asked her son to invite his sister's toddler to his wedding. The son and his bride refused. My co-worker argued the point but the bride and groom's vision for their Saturday evening formal wedding did not include small children. The mother of the groom pouted and complained, and then came up with a solution: She brought the toddler to a casual morning-after brunch where due homage was paid by extended family and friends to an adorable child: a grandmother's pride, salvaged.

    I was reminded of that episode by a letter to Philip Galanes at SocialQs.  A grandmother was outraged that her husband's niece failed to invite his (and her) three pre-teen grandchildren to her wedding–a destination event at a popular resort. The grandmother writes that she had told the bride that she had rented a large home at the resort to accommodate her adult children (who were invited) and the grandchildren. Once again, the bride had her own vision of her wedding and said No to adding the children to the guest list. The grandmother wrote to Galanes to say she has refused to go to the wedding and has canceled the rental. Her husband, who is to officiate at the wedding, and her son would attend, but she would stay home. "We should have been told about the children [not being invited] much sooner," she wrote. "Thoughts?"

    Galanes had plenty of them. "The din of your foot stomping and harrumphing has caused you to miscalculate: You are throwing away a lovely family vacation at a 'popular tourist destination'…in a fit of pique over your grandkids' exclusion from a rubber chicken dinner they probably wouldn't enjoy anyway."

    Beyond that point, Galanes notes that "Brides have more on their minds than other people's grandchildren. And making an exception for yours would probably rub others guests with children the wrong way."

    It's a reminder, once again, that we are not the star of events–weddings or other occasions our children plan. lWe can ask for a favor but adult children (or nephews and nieces) will have their own reasons to say yes or no. As they should.