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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 Adulthood: Are you more indulgent of your 20-something than other parents?

    Our post-college graduates are not as grown up as we think we were at that age. That was one of the messages from this New York Times story "What Is It About 20-Somethings? The signs of change: They are marrying later than we did. The median age at first marriage in the early 1970s was 21 for women and 23 for men. By 2009, it had climbed to 26 for women and 28 for men. 

    The article also pointed out that, as we wait for the mature-enough-to-marry stage, we give them more help–practical and advisory–than we got when we were their age. A survey by Karen Fingerman asked parents of 20-something children whether they provided their grown sons or daughters practical assistance (money or help with everyday tasks) in the previous month. In 2008, two out of three parents said they had. Twenty years ago, only one in three parents had. We're also more generous with advice, companionship and an attentive ear: 86 percent of today's parents reported they had provided advice and the like in previous month; less than half did so in 1988.

    Then there's data gathered by the Network on Transitions to Adulthood. It finds that American parents–rich, poor and in-between– give 10 percent of their income to their 18- to 21-year old children.

    This is not meant to be a keeping-up-with-the-Joneses moment–for measuring what you do against what others do. But it's interesting to have a date-driven perspective on how we're treating our 20-somethings, compared to the way our parents treated us–on average.

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

    Helping Hands: A 20-Something moves out and on

    Here's what Carol did last week for her son, who is 23 and moving out of her house to an apartment in another city. She paid the first month's rent and the security deposit; gathered 'extra" stuff from  her kitchen to set up his kitchen; bought him a bathroom plunger ("He doesn't even know how much he'll need that"), curtain rods and curtains, a bed and new clothes ["He has to look like a grown up, not a college kid."].

    Here's what she says her son, who graduated from college in June, did on his own: Got a job starting in September with a volunteer service agency. Found the 4-bedroom townhouse rental ("I wish I'd been there to help with that. It's too far from the place where he'll be working.") and found three roommates who will be working for the same volunteer agency as he is.

    Here's what he didn't do this summer that his mother thought he should do: Get a summer job. Study and take the GREs in preparation for applying to graduate school. Contact the roommates to coordinate what items–kitchen supplies, furniture–they would bring. Contact the utility company and persuade them to drop the security deposit–since the new tenants would be doing volunteer work. Show some excitement and enthusiasm for the next phase of his life.

    Here's what Carol had to say at lunch, a few hours after this much-loved eldest son drove off to start his new life: "I need a drink to celebrate. Thank God he's gone."

    The relief came from no longer having to nag him–and from no longer having to shoulder the responsibility for getting him set up and ready to go to work at his first real [9-5] job. There was also a little bit of rage, too. "When I was his age, I moved to my own apartment and no one helped me. I had to take care of everything all by myself."

    So, I ask her, what would have happened if her son had to manage the move all by himself?

    "Oh he would have been fine," she tells me. "But I would have been a basket case."

    Case closed on why we hover and helicopter our adult children–children who are old enough to make a few mistakes on their own.

    But here's some perspective on what we're dealing with when we're nurturing a 20-something toward independence. According to a recent New York Times article by Robin Marantz Henig, "What Is It About 20-Somethings," the 20s can be viewed–and are viewed by a growing movement in psychology circles–as a distinct life stage called "emerging adulthood." This stage, says Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, a psychology professor at Clark University, is marked by, among other things, the need for more education to survive in an information-based economy and fewer entry level jobs even after all that schooling. The emerging adulthood's psychological profile is marked by identity exploration, instability, self-focus, feeling in-between and "a sense of possibilities."

    The piece, which explains how 'adolescence" came to be considered a stage of development and how 'emerging adulthood' is taking a similar path, is must-reading for anyone who is dealing with, has dealt with or is about to deal with a 20-something. Bottom line: Maybe they aren't ready to do what we did at their age.

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

    Timing a Visit: How long should a visit to grownchildren and their families be?

    Sometimes I wonder why I am so resistant to longer visits with my children [both of whom live in other cities]. I consider myself the master of the Blitzkrieg visit–in on a Saturday morning; out by Sunday evening, with lots of hugs, kisses, and grabbed conversations in between. You're gone before anyone gets on anyone's nerves.

    But now, Alpha Daughter has moved to another country for a year–6 time zones away. I'll be going on my first visit there in a few weeks but clearly, the pure Blitzkrieg is out of the question. Nonetheless, I have a variation in mind: in for 2 or 3 days, off to another country to travel and tour, back for another 2 or 3 day visit, then home. I've shared the plan with my daughter–who was home with her child for a two-week visit–and she raised questions about it.  Why, she asked, do I prefer the short visit? After all, she pointed out, a longer one–and we have just been through this very long one successfully [no one got seriously disagreeable]–gives you a chance to get pulled into the daily rhythms of her family, to experience her child in a more personal way and gain greater understanding of their lives, as well as give you more opportunities for meaningful conversations.

    What she says was certainly true of our two-week visit. So I think seriously about my short-visit preference. The only honest answer I can come up with is that my mother used to come to visit me for three weeks at a time.  She was intrusive and tried to impose her will on everything from how the house should be cleaned to how my children should be disciplined. How I hated those visits. I had a backache, stomach pain and hives by the time she left. The only plus side to the visits was the euphoria of relief when she left. So I've gone in the opposite direction. But my daughter's question makes me wonder if I'm so busy NOT being my mother that I'm giving up on some of the joys of parenting adult children and getting to know my grandchildren for better and occasionally worse.

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

    Vacationing with Grown Kids: Who’s picking up the bill?

    Did you catch this column by Carolyn Hax? A grown child–Beachbummed–complains that her parents who have treated for vacations for years, were reluctant to join her when she and her husband rented a place this year. "They apparently are totally creeped out about our paying–they keep listing things they will pay for, like groceries, dinner, tolls–and keep saying they "don't want to intrude." Although she tells her parents they are not intruding–they are invited–they ended up staying for less than two days, hurting their daughter's feelings.

    All I can say is, Was one of my children complaining about me? I have been there; done that. This year, when Uber son rented a vacation condo–we usually picked up the tab or, in more recent years, split it–he insisted on paying the rent in full. His argument: he was renting it at a time convenient to him, at a place he preferred, for his family of 5. Since he was setting the terms, he was paying the tab. Paterfamilias had to be disabused of the idea that there was not going to be any splitting of the bill. We tried to kick in our share by buying a lot of the groceries and taking the family out to dinner. Made us feel better. It is hard for us–and for others, like Beachbummed's folks–to sit back and let our kids pay for everything. And there is a sense that we're intruding on their privacy–as opposed to treating them to something they might otherwise not be able to afford.

    The Beachbummed daughter wanted to know what she could say to her
    parents to convince them she and her husband were happy to have them
    stay for as long as they liked.One reader answered by noting that "my parents treat for everything when
    we're together. The times they let the "kids" treat is when it's a gift
    or a thank-you. Beachbummed should say the beach vacation is their way
    of thanking their parents for all of the family vacations over the
    years, and the BB and spouse would like them to enjoy the whole week for a
    change."

    For those of us who resist such largess, Hax makes this point in her column's answer–a variation of my Note to Self: Let them treat you to something." Says Hax:"Letting people treat does empower them, while the reverse often infantilizes.

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

    In Praise of Praise: There is power in positive encouragement–and vice versa.

    I am a captive audience, tilted way back in the big chair at the dentist's office. While he works away, my dentist starts talking about his search to find the right incentive to get his youngest son off his duff. And that reminds him, he says, that he's the youngest of three boys and that his mom always pointed to the accomplishments of his older brothers whenever he did something–good or bad. Even today, he tells me, when she comes by to visit and sits in his waiting room, if a patient tells her, "Your son Steve is an artist of a dentist," she'll say, "You should see my son Norm." (Norm is also a dentist.) And, my dentist Steve continues, she does the same thing to Norm.

    There's a breather in the dental work. I get to ask a quick question. "So how did that make you feel?"

    "Oh we're used to my mom," Steve answers. "Our family was always indirect. We never told each other anything. We'd tell one brother to tell the other something. That's just how things worked in my family."

    So he seems at peace with his mom's continuing "critical" approach to parenting him as an adult son. And yet, when the dental work is done and I am hauling myself out of the dental chair, Steve brings the subject up again. He starts telling me "Mom" jokes–jokes in which a Mom is the butt of the humor. The jokes are unkind at best. He winds up with this one: "My mom, she put the "fun" in "dysfunction."

    Whew. That isn't what I'd want my kids saying about me. And it makes me wonder whether Steve wouldn't be thrilled by a direct compliment from his mom. A grown child is never too old for a positive word of encouragement. When it comes from a parent, it's mighty powerful. I, too, had a mother who withheld praise. I still have a little note she wrote when she was well into her 80s that told me how proud she was of my writing career. It was the first and only time she shared that sentiment with me. The note still makes me choke up.

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

    Your Grown Child’s Spouse: Ceding center stage to the new couple.

    Seems like an obvious thing to say: Get off to a positive start with your grown child's spouse. But a recent Carolyn Hax column details how one mother-in-law managed to tick everyone off at the wedding. She ignored the bride's and groom's request about no photography during the ceremony, ordering the photographer to take the shots. The commotion during the ceremony upset the bride and when the couple called the mother about it a few days latter, she refused to discuss it. Now, according to the letter from the bride, the mother blames her daughter-in-law for the spat and won't talk to her.

    As Hax notes, "This isn't about pictures. It's about her staking out her territory at your wedding, and now, with her outsize anger at you, in your marriage."

    It's also about centrality. Most of us would not–hopefully–be as brazen about getting our way. But a big issue for us, as parents of grown children, is letting go–not just of trying to control our child but of  needing to be center stage, of being the one in control of the family drama. We may be more subtle than the photo-aggressive mother in the Hax column, but guilty in smaller ways. It's why I keep referring myself to a Note to Self: "It's their life."

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

    Money Matters: The short road to their financial independence

    One of my Notes to Self hit a chord with a former colleague I haven't seen in 25 years. She emailed me to respond to "Let them treat you to something." I had posted a note on a very special birthday outing from my son and daughter-in-law–and the difficulty I had in recognizing that I would be belittling them if I tried to pay. My colleague's son is a good deal younger than mine. But I'll let a portion of her email speak for itself:

    "I well remember your sage advice when I was pregnant with my son; just about everything you said to expect came true. Now he's 23 and working, still lives home with us (for now). He's very generous, pays for room and board and sometimes dinners out for us all. Like you, I found it hard to get used to the largess, but now I realize that psychologically, it puts him on more of an even footing with us, and has helped him transition into adulthood."

    Couldn't have said it better.

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

    Grandparents Rule: We’re a growing presence in cyberspace

    We who are not only parenting grown children by grandparenting their children are part of a growing and vigorous online community.

    I know this not only because I've discovered Susan Adcox's excellent about.com grandparenting site [see blogroll], but because another blogger was good enough to post the 50 best sites for grandparenting.

    Who knew there were so many of us?–though we are not all doing exactly the same thing. The list is divided into categories–some by active grannies, some by papas and others that are only in part about grandparenting [such as this one].

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

    Sharing Your Gifts: A grandchild can be overwhelmed by your talents.

    My friend Pat is a pianist. Oh, not a famous, concert-touring pianist, but a serious student who works hard at and enjoys music. She teaches youngsters as well. Not her own 7-year-old grandchild: She lives in another city. That said, Pat says it felt quite natural, on a recent visit to that granddaughter, to sit down at the piano with her and ask her to play one of the pieces her new piano teacher had given her to practice. 

    Uh Oh. That's when Pat realized that the piano lessons were not quite what they should be. She held her tongue, but at one point she suggested, ever so gently, that one particular note should be held just a little bit longer. The 7-year-old defended her teacher's instructions and that was the end of that.

    Or was it? When the piano teacher arrived the next day, Pat took a seat in the next room–one where she could hear the lesson but be out of sight. Before she could settle in, her granddaughter marched right up to her and said, "I don't want you to listen to my lesson."

    Was Pat hurt? A little. But seven is seven. Pat's bottom line: "It made me realize that my role is to sit at the piano, listen to her play and say 'Brava! Brava!' And leave it at that."

    When she told me this story, I was reminded of a recent incident with one of our grandchildren. Paterfamilias is a soccer player. In his youth, he played for his high school and college teams and then went on to play in local men's leagues. So he knows and loves his soccer. When he watched his granddaughter play, he saw a yawning need for more precise instruction.

    Uh Oh. The next day he kicked the soccer ball around with her and gave her a few "gentle" tutorials. She allowed as how that wasn't how her coach had told her to play. Long story short: the session ended in tears (hers, not his).

    I may be over-generalizing from two anecdotes, but it seems grandkids don't like to have their grandparents horning in on what they're learning from coaches or teachers. Maybe it disrupts the proper order of their world or tears at a coach-student bond–or the urge to conform. There's probably a time and place to share our gifts and talents with our grandkids, but when they are young, the best sharing may be a show of enthusiasm. "Brava! Brava!" says it all.

    This posting is one of several featured in About.Com's blog on grandparenting that dedicates its September issue to grandparenting day. You can read these takes on grandparenting here.

     

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

    Money Matters: It’s okay to let your grown children treat you.

    It was my birthday, and I was visiting Uber son and his family. My daughter-in-law proposed a lovely gift: A pedicure for two–me and my 7-year-old granddaughter. What a great idea. It would be her first. But my main thought was, how can I maneuver things so I pay for it. I didn't want my daughter-in-law to have to foot the bill. I didn't want to burden them with an additional charge. 

    This was a little bit crazy on my part. They are, after all, on pretty firm ground financially–the double pedicure at a suburban strip mall outlet wasn't going to break the bank. So why couldn't I just sit back and enjoy?

    I was finally forced to. When my daughter-in-law dropped us off for our pedicure, she pre-paid the bill. I'm glad I kept my "I want to pay" neurosis to myself. It was a perfect gift and a memorable experience to have this precious 7-year-old sitting with me while we picked out the nail polish color we'd try. We were going to do the same color so we had a lot of intense discussion about various shades of red and orange. We both dismissed the idea of blue or green. And then we sat side by side in big lounge chairs while we had our feet bathed and washed, our toe nails cut and polished. I could see how tentatively she sat on the edge of her chair, just a little bit worried about what was coming next. And I was able to sit right next to her, knowing I was right there to reassure her if something seemed strange or scary.

    What a special gift. My grandchild and I still chat on the phone to compare nicks in our polish. And I've finally gotten over the feeling that my grown children shouldn't treat me. I was perpetuating an out-of-date reality–that they couldn't afford it. It's healthy for them to treat me. And it was wonderful gift for me–both the pedicure and the recognition that they were financial grown ups.