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.

    Baby cradle Berthe_Morisot_008

    Our kids are having kids. We have grandkids! Such good news. But what happens when we believe our children are taking a wrong tack in parenting those children?

    We know–or, if we've read any advice columns on the topic, should know–that the answer is, we keep our mouths shut. There are two important caveats to that rule. One is if there's abuse–physical or emotional. The other is, if our child asks us for our advice.

    This latter exception can get complicated. We don't want to barge in (even with the door open) and tell the young parents what they're doing wrong or how we did it differently or better.

    Here are some  approaches (edited for brevity) from Ask Sahaj  on how to respond if your child (let's say, a daughter) is struggling with parenting and asks you for advice:

    Point One:

    You want to let her know you are on her side, saying something enpathetic like. "You’re doing your best, and I see that.” Or responding to her emotional needs by focusing on her feelings, “What are you feeling right now?” Or, “It sounds like you are stuck and feel alone in this. What do you think will help you right now?”

    Point Two:

    Sometimes when people ask for advice, they might be seeking validation or help understanding the problem they are having. Clarify what she really needs from you by asking her, “I want to help you in whatever way is best for you. Would you like to hear my observations or would you like to vent about what’s going on?” You may even add, “If you aren’t sure what you need right now, maybe I can ask more questions to help us problem solve.”

    Point Three:

    If she wants to hear what you really think, consider naming your hesitation by saying something like, “I want to be honest since you are asking me to do so, but I worry that this will be hard to hear, and I don’t want to say anything to upset you.” When it’s time to give your honest opinion, be careful not to make blanket, judgmental statements (i.e. you’re always impatient!) and instead focus on specifics using I-statements to express what you’ve observed rather than making assumptions. This can sound like, “I know I don’t see everything, but I have noticed that you’ve been quick to get annoyed with the baby.”

    To all of this Sahaj adds that it can help the young parent in your life to share a story about your own parenting struggles or something you read recently from an expert that's on point.

    painting: by Berthe Morisot

     

     

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

    Bonnard late interiors

    What could be more painful than a deep and long-lasting rift with one's adult child? How does one bridge that gap?

     Joshua Coleman, a practicing psychologist who also researches estrangement preaches reconciliation. A key point he makes for parents in search of such a solution is for the parent to step up and make amends:

    Parents are often confused by this recommendation, believing that making amends is the same as completely endorsing the child’s perspective. While sometimes that is required, more often amends should be viewed as a starting point; a frank recognition that there is something deeply wrong in the relationship with the parent that needs addressing.

    How to go about it? Here's what Coleman advises his patients:
    I encourage them to write a letter stating, “I know you wouldn’t have cut off contact unless you felt like it was the healthiest thing for you to do.” I say this because it’s true from the adult child’s perspective — even if not from the parent’s — and because it communicates the parent’s wish to understand and heal the distance.

    …Yet, even if the cause of the estrangement lies more in the child than the parent, amends are still necessary from the parent to begin a conversation of repair. You don’t have to agree with your child to make amends. It’s about humility, not humiliation. While I don’t presume that a child’s perspective on their parent is accurate, I also don’t assume that a parent’s perspective on their child is either. We all have our blind spots.

    For those interested in Coleman's line of thinking, his newest book is  “Rules of Estrangement: Why Adult Children Cut Ties and How to Heal the Conflict.”

    credit: painting by Bonnard

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

    Mother with children Lousiane saint Fleurant

    I was lucky. My husband didn't get along with his mother but I did. She didn't interfere (as my mother did) and, unlike most women of her generation (my mother, again) she never had a negative word to say about my pursuit of a career.  Not that I sought her out as a confidant. But neither did I see her as an enemy or rival–or someone to be avoided. I was fortunate and so, I guess, was she.

    What happens when we're not so lucky? When our child's chosen life partner doesn't like us–or makes themselves scarce whenever we appear at the door. Or sets limits on visiting hours. Or keeps us at a distance in myriad ways small and large.

    This was an issue for a Carolyn Hax reader who wrote that his wife, who had had a challenging relationship with his parents (who were difficult and needed to be kept at a distance) was now struggling with boundaries set by their son and his wife. More specifically, as the reader/writer put it, the young couple were "limiting contact, contacting her on their schedule, etc. My wife … complains incessantly to me that she does not hear from our son and daughter-in-law as often as she’d like, which would be multiple times a day. We do hear from them every week or so."

    Hax beat right to the heart of the matter. What was past with the reader's parents was past. Today is what matters. Yes, the reader and his wife may feel hurt that the son and his wife don't call as often as they (the parents) would like–but they call. Maybe contact with the couple is circumscribed. But–and here Hax lays it on the line–it's up to the parents to comply with limits their adult children set. As Hax put it:

    If you are on the cold side of a boundary, then there’s no better argument than to Back! Off! ….Respect for the couple’s space is the only answer.

    credit: L. Saint Fleurant, Mother and Children

    (I'll be addressing this issue again, in particular when it goes from the relatively benign (our adult child doesn't call often enough) to the truly malignant (our adult child no longer speaks to us). Psychologist Joshua Coleman has a book on the topic, "Rules of Estrangement: Why Adult Children Cut Ties and How to Heal the Conflict.”  I'll  sum up some of his points, but I can tell you–reader alert–that we the parents don't get an easy pass when it comes to the healing part.)

     

     

     

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

    Grandparen Frida Kahlo

    When I first learned I was going to become a grandma, I panicked. I told myself, "I'm not old enough to be called that." I was. I had already passed into my 60s. 

    Much of my discomfort was with the aura around the name Grandma. This was also true for the person who was about to be called Grandpa. That's why we designed our own names, and we—and our grandkids—have lived happily with them. (I'm PenPen; he was BaPa.)

    Recently I came across a piece by Linda Wolff that had fun with the names we grandmas choose to be called by our grandkids. Here's a taste of what she had to say (and a link to the rest of it):

    Mimi: The name originates in the south though it oozes with French flare. Closest to mommy and might be confusing , but that's what therapy is for. Essentially Meemaw, but with more “Je ne sais quoi.” Mimis will have everyone (the kids, the dog, the neighborhood stray cat) eating out of your manicured hands. Shopkeepers will keep you on speed dial when your little Ella’s mini G-wagon rolls in.

    Gigi: You’re not a regular grandma, you’re a cool grandma. You prefer Peach Bellinis to Kale Smoothies and relish the fact you allow the kidlets to nom nom chicken nuggets in your bed. You can be found prancing around town behind one of those new-fangled strollers. You dispense all your Gigi wisdom to future grandmas during mahjong and are famous for developing a Genovian accent every time you return from summers in Positano. You never turn on the white noise machine for the kidlets when you babysit. Who needs it when you’ve got the dulcet tones of Fluffy, your snoring Goldendoodle?

    Yaya: Like a warm summer breeze, you’re probably sunning in Mykonos instead of watching your baby’s babies. That’s ok, this will remind them to accept your offer to vacation together the next time you offer them a plane ticket. First class only, of course.

    Lili, Lala, Cookie, Babka: You’re wise beyond your years and have come to the conclusion that the baby will call you whatever it damn well pleases based on whatever they can pronounce. So you just keep bringing tins of cookies and whisper “I’m your favorite” as you rock little Ceecee into sweet slumber.

    painting: Frida Kahlo

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

    Travel renoir oarsmen at chatou

    My yoga teacher is a single mom. She dropped her only child off at college a few weeks ago. The daughter is a freshman and this is the first prolonged time away from home. My yoga teacher came back a day after the drop-off with bouyant tales of the move-in, the roommate, the campus. This week she and a student who'd been absent from class for several months–a dad who dropped his child off for freshman week at college two weeks ago–commiserated with each other after class. I was busy rolling up my yoga mat and putting my props away but I overheard talk of the sadness each felt. "We–you and your wife–should get together," my yoga teacher said. "We have to support each other."

    There has always been a sadness–mixed with positive excitement–when our kids leave home and the nest is empty. And now, it seems, there's a lot more reaching out for support–or acknowledging that we need support.  Is it different from the days–a generation or more ago–when we dropped our kids off and came home to an empty and eerily silent house? Evidently it is today in that we the parents are not keeping our woes bottled up inside and at home.

    A recent Axios newsletter reported the following tidbits about the current state of empty nest adjustment:

    Many first-year college students from different states, backgrounds and majors have one thing in common: stressed-out parents struggling with the separation.

    Parents are using tech to track their kids, micromanaging orientation week and even having dorm sleepovers.

    As to the support side of the equation, Axios reports:

    Parents' stress is on display in online forums and Facebook groups, where parents are asking questions and offering emotional support to one another.

    On these online groups and forums parents ask about minute-to-minute details of orientation, for advice from other parents for advice on their kids' roommate woes and where to shop for basic toiletries.

    The "good news" on this support network: If we're turning to Facebook groups or making dates with friends to talk about our worries and separation issues that may mean we're not bugging our kids. Go Class of 2028!

    painting: Renoir, "Oarsmen at Chatou"

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

    Travel jetty at trouville eugene boudin

    'Tis almost the end of the season to revel in summer vacations with our grown kids and possibly grandkids. It's also the start of thinking about next year or a winter-holiday getaway with the kids.

    So, here's an underlying truth to think about. Whether we're paying all or some of the tab, traveling to an exotic place, staying put in a beach or ski house or setting up tents in the great outdoors, we go into our vacations with high hopes: Everyone will enjoy being with each other. Everyone will be on their best behavior–we're all relaxed and on vacation, right?

    We know there's a flaw in the logic. Everyone–our kids, their significant others, the grandkids, the whoever-elses included in our family vacation–brings themselves not some new iteration of themselves. Grownup brothers with gripes going back to their childhood may still get ticked off at a minor slight; boisterous grandkids may be irritating as 5:00 rolls around and we're ready to nurse a glass of wine.

    We can't control others. We can, though, take some tips from various experts on how to keep the family togetherness as pleasurable as possible.

    Space Out: Buy as big a tent (or several), rent as many hotel rooms or as capacious an Airbnb as you can afford. That leaves everyone–and I'm thinking of myself here–room to escape from whatever irritant is around.

    Lower the Temperature: Steer clear of touting the vacation as the greatest opportunity to see the world or to have a fantastic family reunion. Keep expectations on the down-low. This is especially true if you're splurging on a pricey vacation. As one clinical psychologist put it in a NYTimes story, we may feel like our family members are "going to reward our efforts and our money spent with good behavior." They are not.

    Build in Alone Time: Although we love our children, grandchildren and assorted relatives, we also need downtime without them. Many of us are no longer used to being surrounded by lots of people all day long. We need to take a walk, go out for tea or a beer, or find a quiet place to read or just plain think.

    Spread the Planning Around: Check with everyone–including the grandkids–on what they'd like to do on any given day (or in planning the vacation). Even if their wishes can't be met, everyone is likely to feel better if they've had a voice in a plan.

    Opt Out: As we get older we may have to be more realistic about what we can do physically. As the NYTimes story put it, "Halfway up a steep set of cathedral stairs isn't a great time to realize some travelers should have passed on the outing."  Not that we have to be stay behind. One friend who's recuperating from a pulled hamstring says she went with everyone to the foot of a mountain trail her kids and grandkids were going to climb. But she brought along a book and found a shaded spot to wait for their return and tales of their adventure.

    Be Prepared: It's not just physical limits that need to be taken into account–so do such realities as stroller policies, the availability of bathrooms and alternative transportation. That is, check on the availability and costs of cabs, Uber/Lyft and other means of making a side trip easier on and more comfortable for everyone.

    Account for Costs: Before anyone steps into their car, onto a plane or hauls themselves onto a cruise ship, all adults should know in advance who's paying for what–or, if we're picking up the tab, what's included in our largesse.

    This is not my first post on vacation togetherness. I've written about these and similar issues here and here and here.

    painting: Travel Jetty at Trouville, Eugene Boudin

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

    Conversation Bonnard. cropjpg

    Many of us have been here: We've fallen into the habit of picking up the bill when we take our grown child out for dinner. If we're not struggling to pay our own bills, we feel good about indulging a child who's just starting to make their way in the world.

    Even as our kids establish themselves–pair up with a significant other, start a family, earn a stable living–we continue the pick-up-the-check routine. Old habits die hard. But we also reach a point where it would be nice if they pulled out their credit card (or phone with its digital wallet) and paid for dinner or just a share of it.

    For some of us, the gesture occasionally happens. For others, getting stuck with the bill is frustrating. We may worry that our son or daughter has succumbed to a sense of entitlement. We may feel frustrated about the expectations of our seemingly oblivious child. How to break the cycle and keep resentment of our darling child from creeping in? Philip Galanos' Social Qs. has the almost perfect answer. It's short, it's sweet and it's just a line to tag onto an invite to meet up for a dinner out. Any variation of it will do:

    “Bring your wallet. Dad and I think we should take turns paying the bill.”

    As Galanos notes, many adult children need a nudge into grown-up arrangements with their parents. I pass this along as a non-threatening and perfectly pleasant nudge.

    painting: Pierre Bonnard, The Conversation

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

    Hopper  house on hill

    Emotional Misery. That's what I remember about those first few months of becoming an empty nester. After we sent our youngest child off to college, my husband and I had the blues all through that September. There was a sadness in coming home from work to a house that was too quiet–no music seeping through the walls, no basketball being bounced indoors. I missed the excitement and tension my children injected into the house.

    Then I got used to it. My spouse and I started building a life that no longer centered around being responsible for the everyday lives of our children.

    After a few years of living this less stressful way of life, our oldest child, the one who had been living on the other coast for a while, came home for the summer with a boyfriend in tow. Her dad was thrilled. Of course he was. He had helped get her a summer internship with a Congressman and now he, who had worked for the Congress for many happy years, would be able to see her experience unfold before his eyes.

    I did not feel the same way. Here's what I wrote in my journal:

     "I am filled with ambivalency. Mike and I have this quiet but very pleasant life together. I'm able to pay close attention to his needs; there's no competition for my time. And it is not half bad being detached from your children's concerns on a daily basis, being off the roller coaster. Susan [a friend] has similar concerns with her two sons coming home this summer."

    For all the sadness we go through when our children move out, are we ready and willing to go back to the old routines if they return? Clearly, I wasn't sure. We hadn't repurposed our daughter's room–she could move right back in. But my summer would now be filled with responsibilities–for regular meals, for advice (or making sure we didn't butt in if we weren't asked), for observing up close and personally what was going on in our child's 20-something life.

    Of course, she was now an independent young woman. She didn't want to be coddled or treated as the teenager she was when she first left home. Within days of her arrival she went to work for six weeks in a Congressman's office and the boyfriend, who hoped to become a winemaker, had gotten a job at an upscale food emporium that sold high-end wine. The summer of a refilled nest looked promising. And in ways it was positive. My daughter and I were able to take long walks (and talks) and we got to know the boyfriend (they had talked about marriage) better.

    So here was the downside. The internship turned out to be a mini-disaster. She hated the job with good reasons. The Congressman was an old-school sexist and she found many of the demands of the job demeaning.  She wasn't political; what she liked was going to Congressional hearings (and taking notes for the congressman). But she was often called out of the hearing to drive a constituent to the airport. There were other bumps in the road. She received word that a master's program at Stanford had turned her down, although she admitted the program was designed for those who already had advanced degrees and she didn't have one. Nonetheless, she was disappointed and we felt it.

    The bottom line is that, after a year or two of being an empty nester, I had gotten used to it. Liked it. And I didn't want to be so close to the roller coaster again.

    painting: House on a Hill by Edward Hopper

     

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

    1966_two_standing_women_framed.edb5xev74xcsckosk08s4wo8g.6ylu316ao144c8c4woosog48w.th

    My children don't live near me. Which means my grandchildren don't either. Which means the gramps and I have never been able to go to every soccer game, piano concert, or other event our grandkids participated in. The other grandparents don't live nearby either. All of which means I have never had the impetus to think about how much time the other grandparents were spending with my grandkids as opposed to time I was spending with them. We did what we could to see the grandkids as often as possible, as did the other grandparents.

    It's been a blessing. We aren't particularly close to our co-grandparents, but there's goodwill between us. And yet, I have friends who don't feel as similarly blessed. One doesn't live near her grandkids and worries that the other grandparents, who do live nearby, will be more beloved because they spend more time with the grandkids.  Another is concerned that the other grandparents will be favored because they are wealthy and take the grandkids on grand vacations and buy them lavish gifts.

    I've heard my fill of complaints along these angst-ridden lines but never one quite as raw as one in a Carolyn Hax column. A mother wrote in to say her mother-in-law treats being a grandmother like it’s a competition and keeps track of her time with the grandkids, as in “the other grandparents got them for two nights last month, we only got one!” and “I saw that your Mimi got you three books last week! Here’s four and a candy!” 

    Hax turned to her readers for answers on understanding the bean-counting grandma and what dangers lay ahead for her. Here are some points from those wise readers:

    Answer One

    We grandmas can feel insecure sometimes about how important we are to kids and grandkids when our lives are no longer as full of other things. And, really, we know how brief the young years are for kids and the looming end of our own active years.

    Are there ways to support the annoying grandma in feeling okay in her role, emphasizing how she interacts with the kids, and de-emphasizing the gifts and all?

     Answer Two

    No way around it, you’re going to have to sit down and confront your mother-in-law. Point out that her obsessive behavior is hurting her child, her grandchildren, you and your parents, and it has to stop… Create a list of what is and is not acceptable and stick to it.

    Answer Three: 

    I had a grandmother like this! I don’t think she anticipated how quickly we kids would get wise to these dynamics; her complaining and one-upping drove us away, too.

    The real risk is that your mother-in-law inadvertently alienates her grandchildren as they grow. If you want to broach this with her, …. explain that her complaining may make them feel like they did something wrong, or put them in uncomfortable positions.

    I have been giving this dynamic some thought as well. There's no real accounting for why our grandkids favor us with their love. They may respond to our unconditional acceptance, unrushed time or willingness to read a story dramatically. I only know that, in my family, the gramps (my spouse) was not a roll-on-the-floor kind of granddad. He rarely joined in board games or played a part in a skit. But on one of his Big Birthdays, when the grands were asked to say something special to him, one of them (an 11-year-old) said this: "Bapa, what I love about you is the way you ask me interesting questions and you always listen to my answer."

    Do we need any more than that?

    painting: Emma Amos, Two W0men Standing

     

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

    Picasso face stress

    Our grandkids are the best–precious, smart, beautiful. But what do we do if someone sees their photograph and makes an unflattering or rude comment about them? Or asks why they are so "wild" at family get-togethers?  Or makes a negative rhetorical statement about someone we love. A friend who met my family for the first time at a social gathering told me later that she was surprised at how "ugly" one of those family members was.

    People say the oddest and rudest things. (My friend was on her third glass of wine, which may explain why she felt free to share her observation.)

    How to respond to this sort of commentary? In her column, Ask Sahaj, the columnist dealt with a grandmother whose friends often made intrusive or rude remarks about the racial makeup of her 7-year-old granddaughter's appearance. Sahaj's advice applies to a multitude of rude commentary situations: 

    When someone says something that is rude, sometimes the best response is to not respond to it at all. Simply, you can redirect the conversation. This may sound like, “She’s really sweet and loves …” Or, “I really love how she …” By redirecting the focus on your granddaughter’s personality or interests, you demonstrate that it’s not important to focus on her racial identity and that there are far more interesting things about her.

    The NYTimes carried a column that promised "a magic phrase to defeat nosy questions," which some of their professional experts referred to as "predatory curiosity." The kinds of questions in question were ones like, "Why don't you have grandchildren?" or "Why doesn't your daughter have a second child?"

    What was the magic phrase? Well, there were two, plus a reminder that you do not have to respond to personal and intrusive questions or commentary.

    1. In a calm, neutral tone, simply say, “I’d rather not talk about it." It's a phrase that can be used in many different settings.

    2. Say firmly some variation on, "“Thanks for your concern, I appreciate it. I’m doing just fine.”

    The intrusive questions may never stop. One psychotherapist–a woman who is Sri Lankan American–tries to see the humor in the family prodding.

    She notes that Sri Lankan aunties "can be ruthless."At family gatherings, they constantly asked her when she would marry — and after she was married, the pregnancy queries began. After her fourth child,  “they were like, ‘When are you going to stop having kids?’”

    painting: Picasso