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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.

    Money Matters: What we pay for when we help pay our grownkids’ or grandkids’ bills.

      Think our millennial kids can manage without our help? Think again. While most of us grew up in families where we fended for ourselves after we graduated from college–paid our rent, bought our food and clothes–times have changed. Not just here. In the U.K. as well. There, a survey finds that the bank of mum and dad has expanded its base to include the repository of Nan and Grandad as well.

    Here in the U.S., a recent survey at VibrantNation.com found that 84 percent of those polled said they cover more costs and expenses for their grown kids than their parents did for them.  Half report they spend more than $5,000 a year on their adult children's expenses. In this connected and digitized world, they are contributing toward more than the rent or the groceries.

    Here's what we boomer moms and dads report we are paying for (for our college and post-college kids): 

    59 percent are paying for the adult child’s cell phone (a percentage that doesn’t decline as the child reaches age 30).

     
    53 percent are picking up the tab for insurance.
     
    39 percent are covering their adult child’s rent
     
    38 percent take care of travel costs (and this does not include travel to and from school)
     
    36 percent are paying for clothing.
     
    33 percent help out with cars and computers.
     
    24 percent provide money for home furnishings.
     
    According to the survey, we are also called in for advice on key purchasing decisions:
     
    42 percent for financial services advice
     
    40 percent on insurance
     
    39 percent about what car to buy
     
    34 percent about food and recipes (20-somethings in the supermarket are more likely to call parents for advice than their friends.)
     
    31 percent ask for help on appliance purchases
     
    14 percent even ask for advice about buying technology
     

    In the U.K., a survey looked at help young adults were getting on education costs. A Saga Savings poll found that more than a third of Britain’s estimated 11.8 million grandparents have funded, or are planning to help fund, their grandchildren’s studies–to the tune, on average, of nearly £4,000 [around $6,600].

    That's a good deal more than grandparents said they were saving and contributing to university costs five years’ ago. Then the total pledged was a £1,000 [$1,660]. Tuition there is roughly one-half to one-third of here.

    Related articles

    Students rely on Bank of Gran and Grandad
    Retiree dilemma: How much to spend on grandchildren

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

    Parenting Adult Children: Who rules the dinner-table talk now?

    On vacation this summer, we are invited by Uber son and family to join them at their condo for dinner. They've spent their day doing things they love to do–skipping rocks down at the creek, picking wild berries from bushes and swimming in the pool. Paterfamilias and I, ensconsed in a nearby hotel, had walked a hiking trail and been to town to check out the crafts scene.

    This particular evening, my daughter-in-law and my grandson had just gotten back from a 3-hour mountain bike ride on trails in the foothills of the mountain. It had been a challenging, adrenalin-rush ride; they were both exhilarated by the adventure.

    It was all we talked about at dinner: the rocks, tree roots, sudden twists in the trail, sharp uphills, scraped elbows. Tales of other rides by other mountain-biking members of the family were relived and remembered–including some parental falls and pratfalls into or on top of bushes.

    Paterfamilias and I don't mountain-bike ride. We are road bicyclists. We tried to connect our experiences with theirs (the closeness of a fast-moving truck versus the challenge of knee-high tree roots) but that flopped. So did our attempts after a while to change the subject.

    That's when one of the realities of parenting adult children hit home: We are no longer in charge. Not even close. Of course, when our kids were young and growing up in our house or going on vacation with us, we ran the dinner-table conversation. Now when we're on their turf, our grown kids own the flow of conversation, and we don't necessarily know what it is or how it works. It isn't as though we're cut out of the conversation. We're welcome to join in, but it's sometimes hard to figure out how. PF and I often remind each other, 'We're no longer center stage; we're bit players now in our children's lives.' It's one thing to say it. It's another to feel it at the dinner table.

    On her blog, psychotherapist Kathy McCoy talks about re-framing the feelings of being on the side lines: Instead of feeling we are a bit player, we could see ourselves as having a front row seat. McCoy likes to quote her Aunt Molly on the changing family dynamic as we age: "We're welcome at the party, but the party isn't for us."

    Nor is leading the dinner conversation. If the table talk isn't to our liking or interest, tough luck. Feign interest. Try to connect. Listen for nuggets of insight. It's their turn.

    To be fair, the table talk isn't always devoted to mountain biking or its equivalent. One of Uber son's delights is in presenting complex math questions that take a healthy dose of logic to solve. The conversations that revolve around solving the questions are profound. I'm often stumped by them (lazy mind refusing to go to work) but I relish hearing how the two older Grands (5th and 7th graders) work their way toward an answer.

    The conversation on this particular vacation evening finally broadened out, thanks to our youngest Grand who does not yet ride a pedaling bike, no less forge through mountain trails. As we finished our chicken and corn and brought the farm-market peach pie to the table, she piped up: "Can't we talk about something else, like skiing?"

    We weren't the only ones having trouble connecting.

    Related articles

    Road Bikers vs. Mountain Bikers

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

    Giving Grandkids Gifts: A digital wrinkle in the savings bond scenario

    When I was young and someone's grandchild, savings bonds were a gift I got to commemorate birthdays, graduations and other major events. The bonds weren't large in terms of denomination but the US. Treasury bills were loaded with meaning for my immigrant forbears. For me, the heavy-ish feel of the paper and official look of the bonds made them special and made me feel very grown up.

    Paterfamilias and I have strayed from that tradition for our Grands–we're more into loading up 529s–but lots of people like the physicality of a savings bond and the meaning a US Treasury bond implies. With the U.S. Treasury going digital, though, it is getting more complicated to tuck a savings bond into a "Happy Birthday" card and send it off to a grandchild.

    Two years ago, the federal government pretty much eliminated paper savings bonds. Before, if we had wanted to give a savings bond as a gift for a Grand's birthday, we would have done it the old-fashioned way: made our way to our bank and filled out a form to buy the bonds, which would then be mailed to us. We could then slip them into a card or package and give our gift. But now, it's all digital. We and the Grand we're gifting must each set up special online accounts–and we'll need our Grand's Social Security number in the bargain.

    So it's easier in a way–no more trip to the bank.  But more complicated,especially for those not comfortable doing financial transactions via the Internet.

    The Treasury Department considers digital bonds more secure: With no paper to keep track of, there’s no risk of losing them and having to have them reissued.

    Demand for savings bonds had declined even before the switch away from paper, partly because of low interest rates for the past few years. But should those rates rise, be prepared to operate digitally if you want to give your Grand a safe and sound investment in the future of the country. Once the online accounts have been set up–yours and theirs (which, if they are under 18 years of age, a parent or guardian must establish in his or her own name and set up a linked account for a minor)–you buy the bond online and transfer it to them online. You can then print out a paper gift certificate as something tangible to tuck into a birthday or graduation card. But the hefty feel of that T-gift paper: Gone for good.

     

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

    Social Media Etiquette: Setting limits on screen time when Grandkids visit

    There's nothing more discouraging than to be vacationing with or visiting a grown child and his or her family only to find everyone glued to a smart phone, tablet, laptop, netbook or gameboy. There's hardly any acknowledgement that you've arrived, and if there is, it's to let you know they are in mid-game or mid-text or mid-thumb activity.

       

    My theory on vacation is that it's their vacation, too, and if that's what gives them pleasure and relaxation, live and let live. But as an everyday diet, it's hard to accept the way the iWorld is full of exclusionary devices that inhibit socializing.It's a national phenomenon: Children between the ages of 8 and 10 average eight hours a day in front of a screen; teens clock in at around 11 hours. I don't even want to know the numbers for the 2- to 6-year old set.

    In our family, we are fairly fortunate. Our grown kids aren't addicted to devices themselves and they have set limits on screen time for their children–that includes TV among the screens. The limits apply on vacations as well. What's the point in being in Vermont where the sun shines on the mountain brooks and trees shade the hiking trails if you're not out there to experience it?

    But when parents don't set limits–or the limits are so loose they may as well not be there–can the grandparents step in? On her Web site on grandparenting, Susan Adcox addressed the grandparenting role in screen time, suggesting ways for us to set limits even if the parents don't.

    She says it "quite acceptable" for grandparents to have rules about the use of electronic devices in their homes. Among the steps she says grandparents could consider when grandkids are coming to your house for a visit:

    –Prepare your house. Turn off the TV, shut down the computers and tablets and put the phone on vibrate. "Then don't cheat. Children are smart. If you say you're checking email and you're really checking your Facebook, they'll figure it out."

    –Ban media at mealtimes and bedtime. "If you're lucky enough to have spare bedrooms or a playroom for the grandkids, keep them media-free as much as is practical."

    –Have lots of alternative things to do: games and activities such as exploring nature or cooking together.

    She also has some strategic "don'ts":

    –Don't ban electronics altogether. "It's a battle that you're likely to lose." Besides, at times electronic devices are valuable to have around–such as when you're driving them somewhere or you need a few quiet moments to yourself.

    –Don't nag your teen grandchildren about their electronic habits. "It's counter-productive to make remarks such as, "Don't you ever get tired of staring at that phone?" (Clearly, the answer is no.)"

     

    Related articles

    Misusing Social Media: Rules of etiquette with grandkids and grownkids
    Grandparenting in the Digital Age

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

    Social Media Etiquette: Staying connected in a cell phone world

     Cell phones are ubiquitous in our lives–so much so that it's hard to remember when they weren't. When it comes to our grown children, they keep us in closer touch with the blips and bumps in their everyday lives, even when they live far away. Instead of talking to them on a land line at their apartment once or twice a week, we're apt to chat them up once or twice a day wherever they may be.

    But cell phones may have ramifications for us when our grown children take up with a significant other–when they move in together, get engaged, marry. Both will have cell phones and that, in effect, may limit who you talk to and how you develop a relationship with the new son- or daughter-in-law.

    A friend remembers back to the day when her in-laws or parents used to call. She and her husband would both get on the phone and talk to them. That put her in touch with her mother- and father-in-law when they were on the phone. Her husband connected to her parents when they called. Sometimes his parents would call and she would pick up the phone. Or vice versa. Now, her son, who just got married, has his cell phone; so does his spouse. They don't have a land line. When my friend calls her son, she gets her son–and never her daughter-in-law.   

    Skype can put the two of them together, but even the Skype calls come up on only one of their laptops or smart phones–and they may not be at home or even within shouting distance of each other. And then there's called ID. If we call out child's new bride or groom and they don't pick up our call, is their phone on mute or are they tuning us out? Or would they prefer a text to a call?

    Adjusting our traditional lives to the disruptions of technology is not easy.

    A PEW study reports that 91 percent of American adults own cell phones and use them for much more than phone calls. In PEW's most recent nationally representative survey, researchers checked in on some of the most popular activities people perform on their cell phones. It makes it clear that smart phones aren't going away and that we need to figure out how to use them to stay in touch with new members to our family.

    Here are PEW's findings:

     

    Related articles

    The Number Of American Households Without Landlines Is Exploding
    The Lost Art Of Telephone Conversation

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

    Dirty Laundry Diaries: Trying to keep a clean house when a grown child is messy

    A while ago, I wrote about a personal embarrassment in child rearing. My son–to my daughter-in-laws dismay–has grown up to be a laundry slob. Not only doesn't he do his own laundry, he doesn't even manage to hit the laundry basket when he casts off his worn-all-day socks, tee shirts and other close-to-the-body apparel. She has called him on it–he being the author of a book that deals with managing behavior techniques–and, using his managerial terminology, challenged him to do better. When she and I had a phone chat about his unacceptable laundry behavior, I had to admit to my son's wife that I was to blame–I had never come down hard on laundry or clean-up-your-room chores. There seemed more important issues to deal with.

    Now, it seems. I have met my polar opposite. Writing to Carolyn Hax, the mother of an otherwise exemplary 20-year old complained bitterly about her son's dirty sock habit–he left them anywhere and everywhere in the house and refused to do his share of an assortment of housekeeping chores. She wanted to know if she should evict him [he was home from college for the summer] over the issue.

    OMG. I read her tale of woe and felt even guiltier for my indulgent ways. What legacy had i left my daughter-in-law? I had not cracked down; had not evicted anyone and here my daughter-in-law was reaping my poor parenting.

    Carolyn Hax, the arbiter of what's best and worst in an approach to a problem, came down somewhere between the two extremes–tho closer to the letter writer's viewpoint. She suggested explaining to her son why the son's habit was so irritating (i.e., his failure to do his chores and his leaving of a mess meant other family members had to do more work and that wasn't fair) and to give him an ultimatum: turn things around or out you go. 

    When did things come to this? Fortunately, my DIL, annoyed tho she is about her husband's dirty laundry behavior, still sees the light side of it: an annoyance rather than a family crisis. She has not piled all his dirty laundry on the couch and told him to sleep there. 

     

     

     

     

     

    Related articles

    Parenting Grown Sons: Who's to blame for unpleasant housekeeping habits?

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

    Visiting Privileges: How to be a good overnight guest in your grown child’s home

      Some of us–I'm one of them–live far from our grown children. Visits to and with them entail an overnight stay of a day or two or more. Sounds like a grand get-away but it's rife with pitfalls: overstaying a visit, over helping, under helping, invading their privacy. The list goes on.

    Susan Adcox, who writes the grandparenting page for About.com, recently featured 10 tips on being a  long-distance grandparent visitor. Some of what applies to being a good Grandparent guest, applies to being an inobtrusive parental visitor when we're on our grown child's turf–whether or not small children are involved.

    Some of her pointed houseguest hints:

    Get pre-approval of dates you plan to visit and length of the visit.

    Let them know, before you arrive, if you plan to see friends, attend a business meeting or do something on your own. Not that you need their approval but to be sure your plans don't conflict with plans they may have made for your visit.

    Provide your own transportation if possible. As Susan puts it, "Parents with children and careers will appreciate not having to pick you up and chauffeur you around." A benefit for you: If you rent a car, you'll be able to get away–for a coffee, for a drive, for some needed quiet time.In our family, Paterfamilias cherishes a morning run for a cup of coffee at a nearby Starbucks–by himself or, by inivation only, with one grandchild.

    Check with your kids about staying in their home. Their apartment or house may be too small or cramped for overnight visitors. If you can afford it, a hotel room may be easier on everyone's nerves. 

    If you've got special needs–such as special foods–bring them with you. Don't expect them to be provided by your kids.
     
    Be neat about any space you use. Help with household tasks, but don't tackle any big cleaning or repair jobs unless asked. As Susan puts it, "To do so can be seen as implied criticism of the housekeeping standards of the household."

    Be sure to give them some privacy. Find a secluded spot in the house or by take a walk so that you're not privy to everything that's going on in the house or their lives all the time.

    You can read all of Susan's 10 tips here. 

     

    Related articles

    A shared home: Multigenerational family living can offer added comforts

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

    Six ways to insure the family vacation is fun for everyone–most of the time.

    On Huffington Post 50

    On NextAvenue

    This April we spent part of a week in London with my daughter and her family. She flew over from Berlin, where she was living and working; we crossed the Atlantic. it was Spring break. Our vacation-ette had its high points (we all loved Wicked and the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum). There were also lows, when all five of us–daughter, son-in-law, Grand and the two of us–were miserable about where we were or why we had decided to be there.

    That's how it goes with family vacations: You have your big smiles, belly laughs and joy-filled photo ops. Then you do not.

    Next month we are heading to Vermont. This time we will be vacationing with both our children and their families. (That puts us in the 15 percent of vacationing Boomers who say their grown kids will be going with them this summer, according to AARP research surveys.) It will be a reunion of sorts–our daughter back from Berlin after a year of living there;  my son and his family seeing their sis and cousins after a year's hiatus. We've done the Vermont-togetherness before, and we have learned–the hard way, naturally–where the little worms lie in our happiness apple. Whether a family is traveling around (as we were in London) our settling into a resort area (as we will be in Vermont), there are ways to avoid some of the miseries that can accompany a multi-generational family vacation.

    Here are my top six rules for avoiding meltdown moments:

    1. Be prepared: Make a list of things to do, in rainy weather and when it's fair. Sitting around with no plan can bring on the crankies. A friend who rents a house in Italy every summer gives her visiting sons and their families a calendar of events she's planned for their week with her. They don't have to opt in, but the daily list gives everyone a sense of purpose and  direction.

    2. Be independent. There is such a thing as too much togetherness. It helps to go your separate ways for at least part of a day. The hikers can climb the mountain trail; the swimmers can head for the lake. The Egyptologist can take in the museum; the musicians can go to a concert. Sharing tales of your little adventure when you get back together injects positive energy into family dynamics.

    3. Be generous. Pay for as much space as you can afford–whether it's hotel rooms, tents, condos or the number of bedrooms in a rented house. There's nothing more wearing on everyone's nerves than being crowded in on each other. Which leads to rule 4…

    4. Be absent. Take time for down time–to rest, to read, to put your feet up. Everyone needs "quiet time"–not just the toddlers. Find a quiet place and park yourself there. It may be especially soothing to remove yourself from the multi-generational family scene in the late afternoon, when a small child's day tends to unravel. You know you're supposed to leave the parenting to the parents; if you're not there, you'll be sure to.

    5. Be flexible. Don't nag because yours kids or their kids have their eyes, ears and thumbs busy busy busy with iPads, iPods, iPhones or Gameboys. It's their vacation, too. It may be annoying that they're otherwise preoccupied but you can always take an interest in what they're doing. Fruit Lines, anyone?

    6. Be realistic. There's such a thing as being too ambitious–whether it's the number of sights you want to see in a given day, the dinners you want to cook for everyone or the inter-family tennis tournament you want to run. Don't make it complicated. Don't cram everything in. Yes, rule number 1–a list of things to do–is important. But too much is tiring, and tired people are not at their socializing best.

     

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

    Vacations with Grownkids: The short road from tourist misery to traveler bliss

    We are in London. It's April. Spring break. We have just taken my daughter (who is living in Berlin with her family) and her daughter (my 11-year-old Grand) to see a matinee of Matilda, the super-popular  musical. After the show, it is dinner time. My daughter and Grand are both vegetarians–no meat, no fish, no fowl. Chinese food is a good bet for pleasing everyone's dietary needs and taste buds.

    So we are on our way to a highly, highly recommended Chinese restaurant. In London's Chinatown. It is, we have been told, walking distance from the theater. We find Chinatown but are struggling to locate the street we seek. It is drizzling and grey; the streets are overcrowded with fellow tourists. We are wandering around. Our smart phones are of no use. We are asking every person we can reasonably hail about directions to what is apparently a side street off a side alley. At last. There it is. The street we want and the restaurant we're seeking. I am anticipating the comfort of sitting down and sipping a glass of something refreshing. As we approach the restaurant, there is a small shriek from within our foursome. In the plate glass window that fronts the restaurant hang several whole cooked ducks and dead chickens. Strung up by their teeny tiny feet.

    My Grand will not enter the restaurant. The sight of the dead ducks and chickens is deeply upsetting for her. We look for another restaurant but it seems like almost all of them have the same hanging duck decor. My Grand now says she will not eat anywhere within sight of these restaurants. We retreat.  My daughter is tired. We all are. She suggests that she and her child go back to the hotel to eat while Paterfamilias and I have dinner in Chinatown. "We flew across the Atlantic to be together," PF insists. "We'll find a place to eat." He is wishing, of course, that our daughter would "control" her daughter and insist she go along with his original plan. But it is not as though my Grand doesn't want to eat somewhere because it has pink tablecloths or a clown face in the window. Her animus is rooted in a deeply-felt philosophy about the killing of animals.

    Our increasingly drizzle-damp and miserable foursome trudge on. In the distance, I spy a neon sign, "Spaghetti House." Now, no one comes to London to eat in a place called Spaghetti House–at least no one in my family or among my friends. But any port in a storm. We head thither with resolute step. Just before we get there, an expanse of fogged-up plate glass windows reveals a tiny Japanese restaurant. Not a sushi place. Not a Japanese steak house. But a Japanese restaurant–Abeno is the name–that appears to be serving individual, cooked-at-your-table dishes. We enter and inquire about a table for four and the availability of vegetarian dishes. We're good to stay.

    We're taken to a table with boxlike benches for seating. As other customers do, we open the benches to put our coats and umbrellas inside, and then sit down on them. Among the specialities of Abeno is Okonomi Yaki, a Japanese pancake-like dish. We can pick our fillings–combinations of vegetables, cheeses, meats and other delicacies. Our waitress advises my daughter and Grand on the best choices for vegetarians (the Okonomi, she reports, has a smidgen of non-veggie broth in it) and cooks each meal separately on the hot grill at our table. 

    We are riding high. We are in the midst of an unexpected discovery. Everyone is happy. This is an adventure. This is why we travel. We have gone from a woeful group (not why we travel but a part of it) to giddy travelers. We eat well. We return to our hotel sated and excited. L'aventure.

     

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

    Parenting Adult Children: A change in attitude about Mother’s and Father’s Days

     

      Years ago, when my children were pre-teens and still assumably under my control, we had a chat while driving home from the beach on Mother's Day. I told them they didn't have to concern themselves with Mother's Day. It a day for older moms and grandmothers. My rationale: I didn't see Mother's Day as applying to me, someone who saw her children every day and was a vital part of their everyday existence. As I looked in the rear view mirror, there was a somewhat surprised look on their faces but not much of a concern. Our family had never gone in for big Mother's Day celebrations–gifts, special meals, flowers or cakes. It was a day to call grandmas; to remember to call my mother who lived far away and send her flowers.

    I'm the older mother/grammie now. I live far from my grown children; ditto Paterfamilias as father and gramps. We no longer see our children regularly or talk to them every day. One lives in a city 400 miles due North; the other 400 miles Northeast–when she isn't taking a sabbatical year in Berlin (4,000 miles East). They live busy, busy lives–bringing up children, moving ahead in their careers, being attentive spouses. We are no longer a central part of their lives.

    I thought about this yesterday on Father's Day. Both PF and I agree that the days–Mother's Day, Father's Day–are just another Hallmark moment, that the advertising and brouhaha surrounding the day are more a spur for retail growth than a meaningful holiday. And yet. And yet. Come the Day, we now wait for the call, the sweet chat, the expressed or implied note of appreciation that we are their mother or father, the acknowledgement that we are important enough to them to take a moment out of their hectic lives to connect via cell phone, Skype and email.

    There's another emotional part to it. Our best friends died a few years ago–friends with whom we celebrated holidays and special occasions as a family. Now, when their children post a photo of one of their parents on Mother's or Father's Day, it reminds us of how difficult a day it must be for them, of how much we miss our friends and how lucky we–and our children–are to be around to acknowledge yet another Mother's or Father's day.

    Mother and Father Days are not like a birthday where you kind of hope your grown children remember which one is yours–and maybe you send a reminder when the other parent's birthday is looming. Given the barrage of ads, it's hard for anyone not to notice That Special Day to Honor Your Parent. So while PF and I have to acknowledge that there are societal pressures that may move our children to give us a call on this particular day, it's still wonderfully comforting and emotionally rewarding when we hear from them–even if it takes an annual Hallmark moment to make sure it happens.