PenPenWrites

parenting blog, memoir notes, family punchlines & more

recent posts

© 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.

    Re-Nesting: What’s driving them home?

    The latest stats are not out yet–the census moves slowly–but it will doubtless show that this Great Recession has created a migration of sorts: adult children moving back home. In 1970, less than 8 percent of adult children between the ages of 25 to 34 lived with parents. By 2000, that percent was at 10.5. By 2010, the percent will be larger. The census suggests that there will be more
    than 80 million parents of grown children who have one of those children living home again.

    What’s driving adult kids back home? Difficulties finding a job, decision to go back to school [graduate degree, anyone?]. Then there's foreclosures and housing prices. Besides the economic reasons, there are the age-old ones–protective parents and kids who've learned to love the comforts of being taken care of.

    In today's world, financial pressures have to top the list. But there's also a need for a safe haven during a divorce. And, the grown kids may move back home to help out their aging parents.

    If you're looking for practical advice on what to do if the boomerang happens to you, try this Web site. The bottom line on the author's advice: "Remember to treat your boomerang kids as adults. Making life easier on grown kids who live at home by doing their laundry

    , cleaning their rooms, etc. can hurt them in the long run by delaying their transition into responsible, independent adulthood."

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

    Keep Your Mouth Shut: Rearing their children is their business.

    Every piece of advice you've read tells you the same thing: Don't interfere with your grown children's parenting of their children. And we don't. But oh how close we can come to making the fatal error. It's tough to sit and watch discipline in action. This is especially true for those of us who live far from our grown children, as we do: Visits tend to be extended and you see too much–but don't know enough about what's been going on to put it in context.

    This Thanksgiving, we hung around Uber son's house for four days, and on one of those days we were witness to a major meltdown: One of our grands lost a checker game to a sibling. There were tears and much unhappiness. The parents were adamant about imparting lessons about good sportsmanship and how important it is in life to know how to "take a punch" gracefully. This only seemed to produce more tears and wailing, followed by more chastising and lecturing. To us, the witnesses sitting idly by, it seemed like over-reaction on the parents part. It was uncomfortable and painful to sit there. And Paterfamilias is a lucky man. As he was about to open his mouth and intervene in defense of his Grand–a major no-no–I was able to clap a hand over his mouth–figuratively speaking. Even though I wanted to help put an end to it, too.

    Of course, 10 minutes after the meltdown, all was well. The Grand was back in the room, laughing and talking and kidding around with us. And that's what we have to remember when we're tempted to "say something." We don't have the context of previous behavior or the knowledge
    about the consistency of discipline to balance out what we're hearing
    and seeing in the moment. Besides, our grown children may not know better about parenting than we do [look how successful we were!], but then again, maybe they do. Besides, it's their ball and their court.

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

    Thanksgiving’s Good Tidings: We see ourselves as others see us

    Our family is together for the Thanksgiving feast: Paterfamilias and I, Uber Son and his family, Alpha daughter and hers. We are gathered together at Uber Son's house–we all live in different cities and his is centrally located, big enough to fit us all in and require the least amount of airplane flights. There is much to say about these several days of togetherness–there are moments of great joy and hilarity–grandkids are cute and smart and amazing–and some difficult passages that attach to having so many people together at once, vying for attention. This is especially so when you all haven't been together for an extended period of time. I will write more of that after I've digested it. But one moment stands out:

    We are seated for dinner–kids at a small table near the adult table. The wine has been poured at the big-people table, and Paterfamilias suggests a toast to being together plus a question: What do each of us have to be thankful for. Our answers vary based on our particular perspectives–Paterfamilias is grateful for the political change in the country; I am thrilled to see all my grandchildren playing together under one roof. And so on. But one of our guests–the widower of our best friend, a man who has been part of our Thanksgivings since the children were teenagers and Thanksgivings were held in our home–has his own observation. He has flown up to Uber son's house to be part of this year's feast and he says he is thankful to be with a functioning family when there is so much dysfunction all around us.

    As a family, we may have our difficult passages, but they are just that: passages.

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

    A Poet Says It Best: Ancient advice for where we are now

    Alpha daughter gave me a gift a while ago. A book of Tao Te Ching poems. For months, it sat in a messy pile on my desk, unopened. I was too busy to slow down to reflect and lose myself in poetry. Time and mood conspire: I found the little book–a mere 120 pages, some with delicate ink-wash drawings–on a day when I was trying to think my way through a messy passage in my life. Among the gems I found in "The Sage's Tao Te Ching: Ancient Advice for the Second Half of Life" by William Martin, was this sparely written poem that, for all its gentle tone, rips right to the heart of where we are as parents of grown children–or, rather, where we aspire to be.

    Like the Full Moon on an Autumn Evening

    When we were young/and feeling the need to prove ourselves,/we generated heat and energy/like the noonday sun./ But now we take time to reflect the Tao/and bathe our world in soft silent beauty/like the full moon on an Autumn evening.

    An abundance of opinions will generate heat/but accomplish nothing./You no longer have to comment/on each and every little thing./You can observe events with a detached serenity./When you speak,/your words are gentle, helpful, and few./Your silence is as beautiful as the Harvest moon.

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

    Money Matters: What happens when you can no longer help your kids?

    A friend tells me this story: His friends–a couple who retired last year–have a son living in Florida. He was in the construction business but Florida's economy–and particularly the home building business–is in the tank right now. Long story short: The son lost his job. The parents, who had done well during their working years–have been paying his mortgage so he won't lose his home. But their 401k took quite a hit in the Great Recession. Their investment income is down. And now they are talking to their son about how he might have to let his house go.

    It's a painful conversation to have. Many of us who built up comfortable nest eggs during our working years are feeling pressed to have the kind of retirement we thought we'd have. But this takes that worry up a notch: What happens when our children run into trouble? Many of us have always assumed–not necessarily articulated but it was there in the back of our minds–that we'd be able to help our kids through tough times. But now the tough times are prolonged and the foreclosure problem deep. For many of us and for many of our kids, there's no relief in sight yet. At what point do we say, 'Sorry. We can't help anymore.' And not be crushed by it.

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

    Paying for Vacation: Who foots the bill when you’re all adults?

    "It took a lot of courage to make that call." That's what my dentist tells me. We are talking about a vacation she took with her two sons and their families. One son lives in the middle of the country; the other on the east coast in the same city as my dentist. She wanted to have a mini-vacation where the sons could see each other and the cousins could play together and get to know each other better. I know that feeling. For several years, my two children lived on opposite coasts and I saw a me-organized vacation as a means toward cousin-bonding.

    Her problem–one many of us face–was fiscal: She didn't feel it was fair to pay for everyone–her sons are, after all, adults who are able to support their families. But she knew it would be easy for one son to pay his way and a hardship for the other. That's when she made the call: To the son who was more comfortable financially. She asked him how he felt about paying for a condo unit for himself and his family. No problem, he said. "Well," she then told him, "I don't think your brother can so would you mind if we paid for part of his unit." "No problem, Mom," her son said. She then called her other son and he told her he really couldn't afford the trip. She offered to split the condo charge with him and the deal was sealed.

    The 4-day vacation at a park in Ohio–two condo units (one for each young family) and a room at the main lodge for my dentist and her husband–went really well, she says. The cousins had fun together. Each son and family cooked dinner for the rest of the extended family one night; the parents took everyone out one night.

    There were many things that made the vacation a success. Good weather. Fun things to do together and apart. But a key, my dentist says, was talking about and settling the financial issues in advance.

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

    Your Money and Your Kids: Are they counting on a legacy?

    At dinner with friends, paterfamilias mentions that his children–that's our grown children and their spouses–have told us, 'Spend your money; travel and enjoy yourselves; don't save it for us.'  In a way, he's bragging just a little bit. He's saying, in effect, his kids are doing well and don't need our help.

    Our friends–she's a "new" friend, having just moved in with him, who's an "old" friend–laughs and says that's not what her children are saying. They're telling her: "Save some money for us. Our father [her former husband] is spending it all on his new wife."

    We all chuckle over that. But neither of these dialogs deals with the real world–at least the real world I'm experiencing. Yes, I'm going to enjoy some of the money we've earned over the years, but yes, I'm also going to save something to leave for my children and grandchildren. Or, if I don't leave it, it will because they've already gotten it: either I've lent it or spent it–to or on them.  But even with that lend-or-spend attitude, I hope there's a small legacy for them [if old-age medical needs don't get in the way; how enjoyable a spend would that be?]–something to help the Grands through college or for my children to do something they've always wanted to do or just something to haveif there's an unanticipated need.

    And I think that's what our friend's children are, in effect, saying. "We want to know a safety net will be there if we need help with some major expenses." Ours aren't articulating it because they still have the safety and stability of our Being Together as the same old us. We're not jetting off to a second youth or off on some other kind of spree. They can afford to say they don't care about a legacy, but it's not because they may not need it. That's a pretty comforting feeling for us–and maybe what paterfamilias was getting at by raising the subject at dinner with friends.

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

    Children Grow Up: A poet describes that independence best

    They've grown up and moved on. Here's poet Thomas Lux's take on the tempus fugit nature of it all and the ability–or is it need–to let go:

    A Little Tooth

    Your baby grows a tooth, then two,
    and four, and five, then she wants some meat
    directly from the bone. It's all

    over; she'll learn some words, she'll fall
    in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet
    talker on his way to jail. And you,

    your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue
    nothing. You did, you loved, your feet
    are sore. It's dusk. Your daughter's tall.

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

    Moving in Together: Giving grown children a home or vice versa

    Hard times are here and there are lots of changes afoot: parents and their grown children are finding themselves more economically inter-dependent. Between 2000 and 2007, according to the U.S. Census, the number of
    parents living with an adult head of household increased by 67 percent. The numbers for 2008 and 2009 are bound to exceed those.
    Sometimes, the move-in together is driven by the grown child's problem: loss of a job or a drastic cut in paycheck. (A growing number of companies are shaving the base salaries of employees by 5 percent–or imposing furloughs that take a salary down several pegs. Or the parents suffer the same layoff/salary decrease issue or their retirement savings are greatly diminished or gone.
    Here's a story from the Chicago Tribune that catalogues some of the variations on this theme. One of the trends it takes note of is of parents moving to be physically closer to their children–even when the move means pulling up stakes and resettling in another city. They may settle in a place of their own or with their children. Many are doing so to provide babysitting–grandparents as nannies.

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

    The Loneliness of the Empty Nest: A novelist describes that empty feeling

    I turn to Olive Kitteredge again. Elizabeth Strout's novel told in a series of stories zeroes right in on the heart of what hurts parents of grown children most. Oh sure there are joys–watching our children mature, start careers, marry, raise children, lead interesting lives. But there is also a loneliness that can bear down on you at unexpected moments–especially those of us whose children don't live close by. Strout's story, "Starving," is ostensibly about a young girl suffering from anorexia, but the main character is Harmon, a man of a certain age who owns the local hardware store. There was about him, a character in Strout's story tells us, a certain sadness. As this woman friend observes, "His four sons had grown and scattered. They visited, appearing in town as great grown men, and she remembered when, in years past, you never saw Harmon alone. Always one or more of these small, then teenage, boys were with him, running around the hardware store on Saturdays, yelling across the parking lot, throwing a ball, calling out to their father to hurry."

    On a walk by himself, Harmon recalls how one of his sons "had been a pack rat with a sentimental streak. Harmon walked along…the air like a cold washcloth on his face. Each of the sons had been his favorite child."

    Harmon also notes that he had thought his wife "might have had a bad empty-nest time of it, that he'd have to watch out for her." But he finds "she seems calmer, full of a new energy."

    That's what I love about this book. It captures in such fine phrasing what it is that we're experiencing. When our children grow up and leave home, it is a mixed blessing. There is renewed energy, yes! All of a sudden, we're Number One. But we also lose our admission ticket–to the soccer games, swim meets, piano recitals, opening school night. The house is no longer full of noise or excitement. Sundays at the soccer game may be an annoyance when we're in the midst of it, but now that our children are grown, we miss the interaction with them and being part of the community to which we belonged with them. Watching a grandchild's soccer game is not the same thing. We're just spectators.

    Starving isn't just about anorexia. It's also about the loss when our children move away and the feeling we have in the aftermath.