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© 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.

    Emerging Adults: Just when we think they’re launched, they may be floundering

    They've left the nest. They're living with college friends or high school buddies. They're moving toward financial independence. They've thrown off the yoke of parental control and are making their own decisions.

    We can step back and move on with our empty-nested lives. Or can we? They're adults–but not quite. Carl Pickhardt, a psychologist who who writes about adolescence, likens the 18- to 23-year-old stage to Trial Independence–what some call Emerging Adulthood. For our "emerging" kids, it's a stage rife with trials and pitfalls. For us, Pickhardt says, the parenting may be "the hardest stage of adolescence."

    Here's his run down of the stresses, emotions, and the “emotional thinking” that can get in the way of a successful launch–and may require our parenting attention:

    Sudden liberation:  "Somewhere during the process of adjustment most young people abuse this increased latitude of choice by acting unwisely — indulging in excess, giving way to distraction, neglecting obligations, seeking escape, and taking undue risks for the sake of excitement, for example. It’s when the costs of this abuse mount that stress begins to build – there are so many ways to experiment, overdo, ignore, avoid, fall behind, feel exhausted, and struggle to catch up. Now independence becomes a state of over-demand in which young people can feel out of control and under ongoing duress."

    Being in charge of their lives: "At the outset of adolescence the battle cry was in opposition to external authority: “You can’t make me!” But in this last stage of adolescence it is in desperation at lacking sufficient personal authority to responsibly self-govern: “I can’t make me!”

    Signs of trouble: "The young person can become depressed (“I feel hopeless”), anxious (“I feel scared”), angry (“I feel mistreated”), frustrated (“I feel blocked”), disappointed (“I feel let down”), incompetent (“I feel like a screw-up”), guilty (“I feel it’s all my fault”), ashamed (“I feel disgraced”), shy (“I have nothing to offer”), apathetic (“I feel indifferent”), lonely (“I feel alone”), hurt (I feel injured), or helpless (“I feel powerless”), for example. 

    The fallout from the "troubles": "Feelings of depression can advise “give in and give up” instead of “take initiative and get moving.” Feelings of shame can advise “punish myself” instead of “focus on the positive about myself.” Feelings of loneliness can advise “just withdraw,” instead of “reach out for company.” Feelings of anxiety can advise “avoid what is scary,” instead of “engage with what I fear.” Feelings of shyness can advise “shutting up” instead of “speaking up for myself.”   

    What's our role when these kinds of emotional crises hit? Here's Pickhardt's advice:

    Stay in touch: "Because this is such an emotionally vulnerable time, it’s important that parents regularly check in so she or he knows they are still there and care."

    Be encouraging: "Sensitively listen and thereby provide important empathetic support, give encouragement, and even (if asked) suggest ideas for how to constructively proceed."

    Get help if things deteriorate: "If it sounds like the young person is digging themselves into deeper unhappiness by acting on the advice of her or his emotions; parents can suggest seeking short-term counseling to restore better judgment to its rightful place."

    Related articles

    Observations: Parenting insights from the romantic movie "5 to 7"
    The Changing Timetable For Adulthood (And What It Means For You)

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

    Observations: Kenneth Feinberg on keeping a legacy plan up to date

    "I updated my will, something I had been putting off." That's what Kenneth Feinberg, the former administrator of the September 11 Victim Compensation Fund of 2001 and currently administrator of the General Motors ignition-switch compensation program, wrote in the New York TImes. Feinberg, who's nearing 70,had to review in detail the estate plans of those killed unexpectedly. It's given him an up-and-close and personal view of how people leave their worldly goods to their heirs–and provided him with a learning moment or two. 

    "Over half the victims on Sept. 11 did not have a will. Given that they were relatively young and in good health with excellent jobs, they seem not to have thought it was necessary. I suddenly found it necessary.

    "It was also important to me to avoid the problems I occasionally confronted after Sept. 11, when angry siblings, parents and relatives declared war with one another over the victim’s assets and argued over the 9/11 fund compensation. When millions of dollars are suddenly available for distribution, family members, fiancés and same-sex partners sometimes engage in bitter arguments. So I made sure that my wife and three children had a clear understanding of who gets what by providing each of them a detailed memorandum listing all of my assets and an explanation of how my wealth should be distributed after my death."

     

    Related articles

    Observations: Fran Lebowitz on the parent-adult child relationship today
    Death toll from faulty General Motors ignition switches now stands at 100

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

    Five tips for rightsizing overstuffed attics, closets and bookshelves

     

     

    We are on a downsizing binge. A bag a day is my mantra. I am purging file drawers full of yellowing papers, closets crammed with outdated clothes, basement nooks stuffed with never-used heirlooms.

    We may sell our house– the one we lived in while we raised our kids; the one our grown kids and their kids visit when they come to town. Whether or not we opt for a simpler life style, the accumulation of 40 years worth of stuff stuffed into our house has to be dwindled down. It wouldn't be fair to leave so many years of papers, photos and assorted junk for our kids to deal with.

    Would that a giant vacuum cleaner would appear and whoosh it all out of here. But of course it can't. And shouldn't. Papers– old tax forms, loan applications, home improvement bills–have to be reviewed before we decide if they should be saved or shredded. Non-paper goods also need to be reviewed. Should my mother-in-law's collection of porcelain figurines be hauled to a consignment shop or do one of my children have a soft spot for them? Do either of my children want my mother's 18 place settings (18!) of gold rimmed bone china with hand-painted serving plates.

    As I work my way through the maze and mess, I cling to five rules to help me downsize with respect for the past and a real-world view of the future.

    Rule One: The shredder, the scanner and the recycling bin are my friends.

    A big part of rightsizing is dealing with files of paper–old tax returns, insurance papers, client files (paterfamilias is a semi-retired lawyer), story files (I was a freelance writer for years) and everything else that's been boxed or put on a shelf in a basement recess. It's shocking how many personal identification numbers are on our papers. I shred what must be shredded, toss what doesn't have to be disfigured and have two small bins handy for the few papers I absolutely positively must save. Many of those I'll scan for a paperless save. I wanted to keep for my grandchildren a few of the magazine and newspaper articles I wrote at various points in my career. It was hard to let go of the hard copy, but in this day of smart phones, iPads and laptops, scanning them for possible future readers makes more sense.

    Rule Two: The smart phone quickens decision-making

    As I sort through "heirlooms," wedding gifts and other bits and pieces of our lives, questions arise about what to toss, give away or save. Does my daughter want her letter sweater from her college diving team? I snap a photo, text it to her and ask for a thumbs up or down. Ditto my son and his deep-water fishing pants with the boots attached. I send my daughter and daughter-in-law photos of my mother's china, complete with lavish serving plates (no takers). I snap shots of my mother-in-laws glassware. My daughter says yes to the oddly funky but graceful goblets. On I go, making decisions with a little help from my heirs.

    Rule Three: Keep a rein on sentimentality.

    Photos are the devil. We have boxes and boxes of them–ours and our parents'. Some are organized and in albums. Some loose but in subject groupings. I start with the stuff that's not organized at all. It is a trip down memory lane. I take Paterfamilias with me. We sigh and oooh and ahhh. Doubles and negatives are dumped as are blurry shots or photos of relatives or friends we don't recognize. It's endless and wrenching. We tell ourselves, one photo from each bike trip we took in Europe; one from each family vacation. There's a limit to how much can you save no less scan. Which leads to the next rule

    Rule Four: Leave a legacy

    Photos, letters, verses read at wedding ceremonies. Some of this I'll eventually scan into digital form, organized and saved for posterity or for that someday when I write my memoir–or pull together scrap books or videos that my children and grandchildren can study at their leisure. As I make my way through boxes of my mother's papers, I am tempted to toss it all out. Then I come across her naturalization papers. From 1922! Her name wasn't Rose, as I knew it. It was Roza. This is the raw stuff of history. Primary source. It may or may not be of interest to future generations but it feels important to save. I found myself applying two tests for what to keep and what to throw away: Would anyone but me be interested in having or seeing this item? If not, it goes out. Does the item have historic interest? As Alpha daughter reminds me, she's an historian. I shouldn't give away her raw materials.

    Rule Five: Be generous to others.

    We have more books than our bookshelves can handle. Libraries might want them. If not (our local libraries are no longer accepting used books), several charities will pick up boxes of books and send them to libraries who need them–perhaps in third world countries. That would be a perfect home for our complete works of Shakespeare and the children's picture books our Grands have outgrown.

    Those towels that are fraying around the edges: animal shelters can use them to comfort pets that come into their care.

    Furniture that won't fit in the new home: Places like A Wider World will pick up dressers, sofas, rugs–even beds–and use them to help furnish a home for someone less financially fortunate.

    Then there is the cache of toys we kept on hand for visiting grandchildren. What they loved to play with when they were two years old is no longer a joy to them at ten. There are places that take used toys in good condition. One of my prizes is a Pony Land house, but it's loaded with sentimental value. One of my Grands played with it endlessly when she was visiting, laying out all the pieces and singing to herself while she played. It's painful to let Pony Land go, but my Grand is now 12. Instead of just sending Pony Land to a charity, I give it to one of the workmen repairing our roof. He has a six year old. It's a comfort to know Pony Land is going to a good home.

    Related articles

    Observations: Parenting insights from the romantic movie "5 to 7"
    Whose Side Are You On? An advice columnist's take on our gifts to grandkids
    A Generational Guilt Shift: Our sons seek a better work-life balance than their dads did.

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

    Bank of Mom and Dad: The trend line on supporting grown children

       The need for a financial boost from the Bank of Mom and Dad–it seems endless. They may be twenty somethings not yet able to establish an independent-life beachhead, thirty somethings buying their first home, forty-ish kids with unexpected and uncovered medical bills. Do we help? If we can afford it and we're asked, do we loan or gift them money for something we consider important or approve of?

    Study after survey tells us that more and more of us continue to help out our grown children. A July 2014 survey by American Consumer Credit Counseling, a Boston nonprofit, found that one in three U.S. households assist adult children financially, compared with one in five supporting elderly parents.

    A November 2014 survey by Bank of America reported that more than a third of adult millennials receive regular financial support from their parents, and one in five still live at home rent- or expense-free. The support goes not just to those struggling to get started. The poll, which had 1,000 respondents ages 18 to 34, found that among those earning more than $75,000 a year, 25 percent were getting help from their parents to pay for some groceries and 21 percent for clothing.

    We also dole out cash to cover rent, cell phones, cars and vacations. Some of us invade our retirement accounts to pay for a child's wedding or down payment for a home.  One financial adviser reports that cash supplements run the gamut from regular allowances (to those not earning enough to cover rent and food), to help with legal bills if a child is going through a divorce, to occasional payments for a coat or plane ticket.

    One concern, of course, is what it's doing to the money we'll have available when we retire or, if we're retired, whether it will deplete our nest egg while we're still tottering around in our old age. Unless we're expecting our kids to take care of us –most of us do not have that on our Wish List!–we need the wherewithal to pay our bills as we age into our 80s and 90s. 

    Then there's the question of what this continual support is doing to our children's ability to reach financial independence. An indulgence here and there is one thing–it's one of the pleasures of having a little extra money in the bank and does no harm to the receiver. But barring unusual circumstances, covering their rent, paying their credit card bills, picking up the tab for their cell phone may send the message that mom and dad will pay for a life style they can't afford on their own. In which case, there's no way they'll be ready, willing or able to help us out (sound that Beatle's beat) when we're 94.

     

    Related articles

    Observations: Parenting insights from the romantic movie "5 to 7"
    Where's Waldo? Feeling left out when we're left out of our grownkid's photoshoot
    A Generational Guilt Shift: Our sons seek a better work-life balance than their dads did.

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

    Whose Side Are You On? An advice columnist’s take on our gifts to grandkids

    I love reading Philip Galanes, the New York Times' Social Qs columnist. Not just because his answers to life's queries have a wonderfully light and amusing touch  But more importantly–or equally important–is this: He's often on our side. Even when we, as parents of grown children, behave somewhat badly, he understands, he guides our adult children to acceptance and empathy.

    Here's the most recent example of what I'm talking about. The reader-writer is upset that her parents-in-law give her five-year-old daughter "girlie, pink, princess-themed toys and outfits." The mom doesn't like the message the gifts send. She has asked Galanes to help her find a way to tell her parents-in-law to back off on the girlie stuff.

      Galanes answer: "With respect to you (and “Dirty Dancing”), I disagree: “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” Your obligation is not to prevent your daughter from ever donning a sparkly tiara. That’s just another corner. Your job is to make sure she feels equally free to reach for baseball caps, firemen’s helmets and astronaut’s bubbles (with proper ventilation). I am not worried about your little girl because she has a mother who is vigilant about protecting her choices. Lucky duck! Try thinking of your in-laws as covering the pink end of things, freeing you to help your daughter explore the rest of the rainbow."

    Perfect answer. I would only add this real-world info to the mom in question: When one of my three granddaughters was of the age of her daughter, she loved twirly skirts and tiaras and everything and anything pink. (Her two girl cousins did not). We too indulged that Grand's penchant for the pink. When she was six, she gave up the twirly skirts. By seven the princess stuff was history. Her favorite color became blue and she dressed only in jeans. We shifted our gift-giving accordingly. As your typical indulgent grandparents, we've taken our gifting cues from our Grands–but always with a quick double-check with the parents. They've been wise enough to let us go with whatever spot on the rainbow applies at the moment.

     

    Related articles

    Social Q's: What to Do About Feeling Faceless
    Observations: Parenting insights from the romantic movie "5 to 7"
    Observations: Fran Lebowitz on the parent-adult child relationship today

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

    Observations: Parenting insights from the romantic movie “5 to 7”

     

    Blogger Sally Torbey writes about "5 to 7,"a film she describes as being about "how to love an adult son who is making some questionable decisions that are hard to accept." For most viewers the film is about a young man's romance with an older woman who, being married with children, can only see him for two hours a day–from 5 to 7. Here's her key point for those of us who are parents of adult children:

    "We had the pleasure of hearing the writer and director of the film, Victor Levine, speak about the film after the screening. I loved learning that the funny quirkiness of Glenn Close's character [the mother of the adult son] is partly based on his own mother's antics. I want to channel her character's inspiring ability to cast aside her preconceived notions as to how her son should lead his life, and embrace the woman he loves and who loves him, despite the initial shock and ongoing concerns of the circumstances of their relationship and the potential downsides of this romantic liaison. Although her character is critical of her son's desire to be a writer and nags him to attend law school instead, she is unconditionally supportive of him when he falls in love, even though I suspect her "mom radar" detects that this might not end well for him. Glenn Close's character motivates me to judge and lecture less, and appreciate the directions our children's lives might take them, and perhaps remember that being their parent and a part of their lives is more of a privilege than ever."

     

    Related articles

    Observations: Fran Lebowitz on the parent-adult child relationship today

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

    Where’s Waldo? Feeling left out when we’re left out of our grownkid’s photoshoot

     

    "I feel petty," a friend says before launching into a complaint about her grown daughter.

    The daughter lives abroad–four years in South Africa, now a transfer to Singapore. When the transfer came, my friend flew off to visit–to see where her daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren would be living. It was a friendly visit and went as well as a visit for more than two or three days can go. But there was a downside.

    Here's how my friend describes her complaint:

    "We took lots of pictures– of the kids in their beds and going to school, of a side trip for a weekend outing, of places we went to visit together. When I got home, my daughter sent me a stream of the photos. There were no pictures of me with the kids, my daughter or anywhere. I feel petty even mentioning it. I don't exactly feel excluded but I sure don't feel included in their family either."

    When children live far from home–countries and time zones away–the family gestalt may change. Not so much to exclude Nana or PopPop, but as a means of self-protection. Our grown child may have to rely on friends, neighbors and co-workers for day-to-day support in life's daily challenges. Need to take one of the children to an emergency room while the spouse is out of town? Can't call Granny in Boston to babysit in Singapore.

    This is by way of explanation not justification. A once a year–or even less frequent–visit from or with a grandparent may feel like a special event to us but it may translate into a tie that's less binding. Even though they're the ones that left, there may be a feeling of abandonment: We aren't there when they need us.

    Or the us-less photo shoot may have been pure absentmindness or simply something that happens when busy people are trying to balance a whole lot of things. It doesn't necessarily signify.

    But the emotion it engenders–of feeling left out–does. It may be a little thing but it hurts.

     

    Related articles

    Five tips to keep arguments with grown kids from going over the edge
    What are the unexpected joys of parenting grown kids?
    Guidelines from the grown kids on how to be a good parent to them
    Detachment Parenting: We can interfere in their lives but only if we do it subtly

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

    A Generational Guilt Shift: Our sons seek a better work-life balance than their dads did.

     "When they’re asked about the time they spend with their children, dads are much more likely than moms to say it’s not enough."

    This is a Pew survey talking and it is all about the guilt our grown kids feel about the limits on the time they have to spend with their children. (The study was published in the April 2015 issue of the Journal of Marriage and Family).

    For those of us with grown sons who are dads, the finding is of particular interest. It helps explain where we–not necessarily the editorial "we" but the Paterfamilias and I "we"–are on our children's pay-attention pole. Not that we're ignored but unless there's a problem or we express a need, we are fourth in line (after spouse, children and career) for attention. By attention I mean communication, which includes phone calls, emails, texts and visits. When we're together, we feel the love. But when everyone's back in their respective homes, we feel like we've dropped off their radar screen. Most of our friends admit to the same dynamic–especially those who, like us, have children living far from home.

    The priorities for attention are as they should be. They were the same for us when our children were young and our parents may have longed for a little more attention.

    What seems different is the extent to which so many more young father's feel the tug of home life. It's a generational shift. What we've observed–of our own situation and those of our friend's–is that our sons are much more involved in child rearing and in overall family life including household chores, than their fathers were.

    If you're interested, here are the survey stats in two charts:

    Among Working Parents, Fathers More Conflicted About Time Spent with Kids

    For Working Dads, Time Spent with Kids and Parenting Success Go Hand-in-Hand

    Related articles

    Mom, don't feel so guilty
    Detachment Parenting: We can interfere in their lives but only if we do it subtly

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

    Observations: Fran Lebowitz on the parent-adult child relationship today

       In her acerbic riff in Elle about fashion style and how so many of us (men and women alike) lack a sense which clothes looks good on us (don't get her started on men in shorts), Fran Lebowitz, photographer extraordinaire, found a fashion reason to compare today's adult child-parent relationship to that of her generation's. 
     
    After wondering why young people are dressing with so little outrageousness or flair ("…someone my age should look at what young people are wearing and think, 'What the hell is that?' Instead I'm totally bored."), she heads straight to the core of what she sees as the relationship that's failing to fuel the revolution:
     
    "To me, the main difference between young people now and the people I was young with isn't so much style, it's the relationships they have with their parents. Their parents like them much more than ours liked us. Our parents weren't our friends. They disapproved of us. All our parents cared about was how we behaved, not how we felt, not what we wanted. But now I see my friends on the phones with their, what, 30-year-old kids? And they're talking about feelings. You would think this kind of relationship would make this adult children more relaxed, but instead they're more concerned. Parent-child relationships have become so collegiate. And so when these grown children go into the world, they expect a certain amount of attention. And they're very disappointed."
     

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    'Men In Shorts Are Disgusting', Musician Jonathan Mann Sarcastically Songifies Fran Lebowitz's Fashion Advice
    What are the unexpected joys of parenting grown kids?
    Fran Lebowitz Wants to Ban Yoga Pants On the Street, Fine Offenders

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

    Detachment Parenting: Does it apply when a grown child has a serious illness like OCD?

     

    One of the arts of parenting grown children–particularly emerging adults who are just getting their independence-footing–is to keep from interfering in their lives, to practice detachment parenting, to become an advisory parent instead of one involved in their everyday decisions.

    When a child becomes seriously ill, how do we walk that line: making sure they are getting appropriate care and still letting them be in charge of their lives?  Writing in the first person, Janet Singer addresses these issues in "Overcoming OCD." While it was written to be a helpful tool for other parents whose children or loved ones are ill with OCD, the book is also about the struggle between child and parent, for the adult child's need for independence and the parent's obligation to know and act on what's best for their child.

     Singer is frank about the emotional roller-coaster of parenting a 19-year-old child whose illness could curtail his lifelong dreams and ambitions (since childhood, her son has wanted to be an animator; the art college he was attending did not allow for a break in the course series) and his ability to live a fulfilling and independent life–to say nothing of enjoying the pleasurable socializing of college life.

    One issue that runs through her narrative applies to any parent of an adult child who's ill: Who makes decisions about his future. Is it the young man under the influence of his therapists, or his parents? In Janet's case, the therapists specializing in her son's OCD condition (at a residential facility), recommended he not return to art college, arguing that returning to school would take away from the continuity of his recovery–even though not returning meant he would have to give up on his ambition to be an animator.

    Her son had voluntarily entered the residential facility during the summer to undergo intensive therapy so he could return to college in the fall. Wavering on that goal when under the care (and influence) of his therapists, he told his parents he was dropping out of college–he wanted to relieve himself of the pressure to keep up with the course work and concentrate on recovery. At the same time, though, he wanted to go back to the college town and live with his friends and roommates in a house they had all rented.  "I need to be independent," he told his parents. "I want my freedom."

    A good chunk of the book revolves around the role of the parents in this decision ("who knows the whole person better?" a psychologist-adviser reminds Singer.), the emotional ups and downs of deciding whether to intervene and how.

    It's her honesty about the struggle with her ill son  and her belief in his future that hit home. In one way or another, we have all been there.

    (Full disclosure: Author Janet Singer is a friend of a friend, and I received a free copy of Overcoming OCD from the publisher Rowman & Littlefield)