Grandma on Guard

Dear Annie:

I had the same problem as "Not So Rich Mom," whose grown, well-off children expect her to treat them to dinner all the time.

Here's how I handle it: If someone says, "Let's go out for dinner," I say, "Are we splitting the bill, or are you treating everyone?" If I make the invitation, I offer to pay and will choose the restaurant, but I inform my kids that they will have a separate bar tab because I don't drink and they love expensive bottles of wine. If they want to pick the restaurant, the deal is off. I also announce that I am not paying for a week's worth of doggie bags, so they should order only what they plan to eat.

This discussion must happen before getting into the car. Too many older folks get suckered into picking up expensive tabs out of habit or because no one else offers to pull out their credit card. A clear conversation can solve the awkwardness and unpleasant feelings. — California Nana

Dear Nana: Laying all the cards out on the table in advance certainly makes life much simpler.

Sure does....but at this point, who wants to go out to eat with you? (and who are you going out to eat with, that this is necessary for every outing?) Yikes. It's certainly no fun if every time you see your family and friends you wind up spending a fortune, but this "the deal is off!" approach sure doesn't seem to make this nana very, um, approachable.

Can You hear me Now? Good. I Doooooo!

One of Carolyn's peanuts wants to know about the chances she has at making a long distance marriage work. While relationships have survived and even occasionally thrived in this unusual circumstance (usually by necessity, more rarely by choice), I'm afraid that everything this woman hopes to build in her new marriage despite the distance, will actually be prevented specifically by it:

Dear Carolyn:

What are your thoughts on a long-distance marriage? I've been dating a man for five years total -- with a 20-year break between years 3 and 4. During those 20 years, we moved to different states, each got married, had two kids and then divorced. There are joint-custody situations and young children on both sides that make it nearly impossible to live less than a five-hour drive apart. We see each other at least every other week and we have a wonderful relationship (easy when you see each other every other week, I suppose). I really do see him as my life partner.

We could continue this long-distance dating thing for the next 12 years (when the youngest turns 18), but I'd really like to be married. Difficult to quantify, but goes something along the lines of: We'd be a family. Our family would always come first and invitations would be easier as would the holidays -- no questions that our "family" should be together -- even if it means not seeing one set of relatives one holiday.

But having been through a divorce and not wanting to relive that experience in this lifetime, it seems the deck is stacked against long-term success.

Anywhere

Several things strike me about her letter that suggest...well, not that she's oblivious to the challenges this kind of relationship will pose, but that she wants license to ignore them.

-I don't think that "I've been dating a man for five years total -- with a 20-year break between years 3 and 4" is really a realistic description of a relationship (though it makes for a clever surprise reveal in her letter!). It sounds like she's trying to use those three years long ago, which I would consider a different relationship altogether, between practically different people, as the "first" three years of this one.

-"we have a wonderful relationship (easy when you see each other every other week, I suppose)" so she knows that they haven't had to deal with the day-to-day realities that most couples would have to deal with in a 2 year relationship, but doesn't seems concerned about how that will impact them in the long term when and if they move to the same place. Nor does she talk about the difficulties of maintaining communication and intimacy in a long distance relationship. Reality is going to hit in some way, at some point. That doesn't need to be a bad thing (reality is good!), but she has to recognize it coming.

-"I'd really like to be married...We'd be a family. Our family would always come first and invitations would be easier as would the holidays -- no questions that our "family" should be together"
I'm not really sure what she means by "invitations," or why that's so important, but it seems to me like the "family always comes first" and "family should be together"--the most powerful reasons she wants to marry this guy--are totally cancelled out by being 5 hours apart.

An excerpt from Carolyn's response says:
What you're regarding as family, as you know, isn't a legal unit, but an emotional one. To work as an emotional unit you need his full contribution and commitment. Once you have that, married or not, the other stuff will follow, including invitations and divvying up family visits, etc. You may have to insist on it, and repeat yourselves, and persist through others' resistance, but that's all secondary stuff.

I agree: if she wants to build a family with this man, she needs to start with day-to-day actions, not with ceremonies. And my impression so far is that she uses the word "family" pretty freely without any specifics about her children or his--and that's a bit suspicious.

She doesn't seem to be considering how their children will react to this arrangement, or how they will be a part of this family. If the reason neither of them can move is a joint-custody situation, and they see each other every other weekend, presumably their visits are when the kids are with their other parent. So how well do the kids know their potential stepparent and stepsiblings? And when the marriage happens, will they be expected to spend 10 hours in the car on 25-50% of their weekends? I've done a lot of that myself recently and it's a big pain. What about sports? Part-time jobs, down the road? What will they have to give up to serve their mom's vision of their family?

Although at first blush her plan seems to favor the kids over her own desires (waiting to be together until the youngest turns 18), in fact it serves the requirements of her custody arrangement--not the actual best interest of the children. This long distance family will lead to them spending more of their lives in the car than at any home. What about living somewhere in the middle? Unless the mom doesn't actually WANT to deal with the reality of living together and blending their families for real. From the perspective of the kids, this arrangement sounds pretty awful to me.

Secrets to Keep in the Dark

Facts of life NOT to share with your child--during a traumatic time, or any time.

DEAR ABBY: I am 45 and currently going through a divorce. My soon-to-be ex-wife and I have a 14-year-old daughter, "Gina," and I have custody.

Fourteen years ago, when my wife became pregnant with Gina, we had talked about abortion. We even had an appointment scheduled, but on the day of the appointment we decided not to go through with it. I thank God that we did have our child.

Gina knows nothing about any of this, but my future ex has threatened to tell her. My daughter is mature for her age and intelligent, but I feel the time is not right for her to know. Given the situation, I feel she should hear it from me because of the close relationship we have.

Do you agree that the news should wait until the divorce is final and the dust settles, or should I tell her now? -- DADDY WHO CARES

DEAR DADDY: I see no reason your daughter should ever be told that she wasn't planned for and wanted. I cannot think of one single positive thing that being given such news -- by either you or your soon-to-be ex -- would accomplish.

Your wife may be so filled with anger that she is not in her right mind right now. And if she does pour that poison in your daughter's ear, the antidote is to tell Gina that you thank God for her every day and cannot imagine life without her.

Abby and I are in complete agreement on this one. There is no reason to inflict this kind of pain on any child, least of all your OWN, when she's already no doubt suffering in the crossfire of this nasty divorce. This father obviously loves his daughter and wants to protect her, but has gotten so caught up in the details of WHEN and WHOM that he's forgetting the more important question of IF.

I wonder if, unlike "Daddy," Mommy DOES regret her choice to go through with the pregnancy she (they?) didn't want, and resents the life she's tried to live, and the people who have required her to conform to it. If this is the case, her anger and the dissolving marriage are not much of a surprise (wonder who took care of Gina those first 14 years?)...and it's sad that doing what she must have perceived as "the right thing" and living the way she wanted to wound up being so far apart from each other.

But that doesn't make it OK to tell ANYONE, EVER, "You weren't wanted on this earth and your life makes mine miserable." Even if it's true. Not all truths need to come out.

Choosing, Pt. II

Amy's column featuring people's suggestions on how to deal with the question, "When are you having children?" (Answer: neverrr!) was apparently a hit. I got a few comments on it, and blushed as my blog post about it was tweeted and re-tweeted by some of my friends. Thanks, Samsanator, TheUndomestic, and thelifeinthepink! Yesterday, Amy printed yet another letter from a couple battling with the issue of children--but this time they're pitted against one another: the woman wants another child, while her husband doesn't. Yawn? Twist! He's the one staying home with them.

Dear Amy: I have been with my mate for about 15 years — married for the last five. We have two delightful children, ages 4 and 2. For some time now, I have wanted to have another child. When I have attempted to discuss this with my husband, he becomes angry and states that he doesn't want more children. During one discussion that turned into an argument, he said he'd rather be divorced than have another child.
He has two adult children from a previous marriage. I work outside the home, so he cares for the children — he took an early retirement from his job. I have explored the possibility of my caring for the kids while he works or both of us working, but he is not interested in returning to work.
Our marriage is strained, and I'm not happy. At times, I find myself hating him because of this. Can you help? — Desperate for Another

Dear Desperate: If a full-time working father with a stay-at-home wife posed the same issue, I'd tell him to count his blessings and get over it. And so you should count your blessings and get over it. [Fair enough. But....since, say, the 18th century, how many full-time working fathers have posed the same issue? Ever since having enough spare heirs to carry on the line became a virtual non-issue (ha!) on this side of the world, I feel fathers rarely insist to wives that they want more than the two children they already have. At least, if it's happening it's not coming up in advice columns]
Until you have cared for two young children as a stay-at-home parent, day in and day out, you can't really know how unrelenting full-time parenting is. [Absolutely true...and yet, there are full-time parents who do want more children, so....]
Essentially, what your husband hears is that you would like to add to his burden.
I deduce that he is older, more experienced and more exhausted than you are. [I think Amy's probably right here. It's possible he only agreed to have children with her in the first place because she wanted a family of her own--he could have been "done" with all that years ago. In this light, it's pretty admirable that he's giving her both the family she wants and the career she wants, and no one has to pay for day care. She's got a pretty good deal.]
You have little idea what challenges lie in wait for you as a parent, but your husband does. [Also true, but not necessarily fair...if "knowing what you're getting into" were a pre-req for parenthood, no one would ever have their first child. And most parents with older children don't have more than even a couple years of foresight as to what's coming next. I mean, yes, this experienced father does know what's coming and therefore can fairly say he's not up for it. And it's better for him to be honest about it. I just can't help but feel that Amy's being a little harsh on the mom.] He knows that he's in for at least 20 more years of full-time daddy-hood.
It's unfortunate that you're unhappy, but you're way too willing to sacrifice your husband's happiness for yours. If you can't manage your disappointment, get counseling.

In the end, I basically agree with Amy's advice. It's no good to bring a child, or try to bring a child, into a family where one parent is not into it. Since they have two kids, and they each have a job or retirement situation with which they're comfortable and that meets their families needs, I think she's right that it's time to be happy with what they've got and live with it.

I guess what surprises me is how skeptical Amy seems of this woman's concept of motherhood. I appreciate that since the father is the full-time caregiver in this case, she takes his point of view and, ultimately, his side. But she also seems to suggest that since this woman is not home with her kids, she is oblivious to the gravity and challenges of parenthood, and that surprises me--especially since Amy herself was a single working mother for many years. This seemed unexpectedly anti-working-mother to me, and something about it didn't quite sit right.

And yet, if it were a father writing in, not a mother, I probably wouldn't have these qualms. So maybe Amy's actually being fairer than my brain can handle. What do you think?

I must say that somehow describing one's own children as "delightful" suggests a sense of pleasant detachment. Other people's children are delightful, or not. One's own toddlers might be the light of one's life, or a drain on it, or both, but the relationship is a lot more involved than "delightful."

Also, I think the issue goes deeper than just (just?) whether or not to have another child. The fact that he is totally closed off to even discussing it--to the point that he says he'd rather get a divorce--and the fact that she keeps bringing it up and "hates" him for not being open to it suggests that they've got a lot more issues than just this one. I wonder if he's tried to explain/express to her why he feels their family is complete--could be thousands of reasons--and if she'd even listen.

I don't think they should have another child. But I do think they should talk to each other about it.

On Respecting EVERYONE'S Right to Choose....

Who would have thought that deciding never to become pregnant could raise as many hackles and sermons as deciding to terminate a pregnancy?

When there is no conceivable (ha!) harm to any stage of human life, no breaking, bending, protesting, or changing of any law, WHERE do people get off thinking that the life-changing decision to reproduce rests with anyone but the potential parents?

Yesterday Amy ran a series of letters from readers responding to an earlier letter from a woman seeking a snappy comeback for people who insist on questioning her decision not to have children. The column in its entirety is below; my comments interspersed.

Dear Readers: Some time back, I ran a letter from "No Babies in South Dakota," about how to respond to frequent queries about when she and her husband would have children.

Because they don't plan to have children, they were looking for a "snappy comeback." Readers responded by the bushel. A surprising number of readers accused people who don't wish to have children of being selfish. [This is unbelievable to me! Selfish with respect to whom? Whose needs are not being considered? It just makes no sense!]

Other readers offered snappy comebacks or other responses to the age-old question: "When are you going to have kids?"

Dear Amy: Why is it necessary to have a snappy comeback? Most people ask out of curiosity.

Being a person who is decided against kids and marriage, I always politely but firmly say that was my lifestyle choice.

Only a Neanderthal would push the point, and then I still politely but firmly say, "These questions are getting a little personal." — Personal Choice

[Hmm...as is so often the case, the vanilla answer is probably the only one that will get the inquisitor to realize that THEY'RE the one being rude. Snappy feels good, but just gives the busybody the chance to denounce you as a terrible person and rejoice that you're not choosing to multiply your DNA. Which I guess still achieves the same end.....]

Dear Amy: I'm a 49-year-old woman. When people ask me why I don't have children, I just say, "I love doting on other people's children, and with such a wonderful niece and nephew, that's enough for me." This has worked well for me, but on occasion I have had to set some boundaries with particularly insistent people. In those cases, I said, "It is a personal decision that is not open for discussion." — Elisa

Dear Amy: "No Babies" should more honestly rationalize her decision by just admitting, "I'm selfish, and I don't want to interrupt my lifestyle" or "I dislike children; they are so untidy," or "I'm afraid I'd make a child turn out as miserably neurotic as myself." — Disgusted

["Disgusted?" Seriously? I cannot understand why these people are SO BITTER and judgmental. "I don't want to interrupt my lifestyle?" A child is not an interruption--it's a paradigm shift. You shouldn't be having children unless family life IS your lifestyle. Choosing how you want to live your life, and how you CAN live your life, is not selfish. Having a child that you know you can't love or care for properly--THAT'S selfish.

You can LIKE children without wanting to be a parent. Or you can honestly DISLIKE children--in which case the decision not to have them would be well-founded--but that doesn't mean the only "honest" recourse is to announce this preference widely. Just as, in the company of a garbage collector, one wouldn't say "I could NEVER be a garbage collector, it's so DISGUSTING," tactful people who don't want kids are probably right to remain reticent about their reasons--not only because those reasons are personal and private, but to avoid giving the impression that they look down on the choices of their friends and relatives who ARE parents--something parents tend to read into these situations, but non-parents generally have no desire to convey.]

Dear Amy: If you don't have kids and you're happy with it, you're "childfree." If you don't have kids and you're not happy with it, you're "childless." — Childfree by Choice[

[Yay semantics!]

Dear Amy: My husband and I have known couples that have "elected" not to have children. It seems that these couples always replace the children in their lives with a very pleasant lifestyle that includes frequent vacations, nice clothes, fine cars, above-average homes, season tickets to sporting events, plays, concerts and a lifestyle that couples with children never dream of.

All to replace the emptiness of an empty nest. This all smacks of the '60s hippie culture through the '70s "me generation." — Not Buying It

[This, to me, smacks of the Depression-era/Greatest Generation, raised to sacrifice, adhere to one's duty, live simply and frugally--and that to do more than that is ostentatious and selfish. That there's something shameful about a "very pleasant lifestyle." Yes, couples who do not have children, in most cases, have more disposable income. That's just math. It does not mean that they're trying to "replace" children with luxury or embrace a profligate lifestyle that "couples with children never dream of." WHY would people without extra mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, and minds to educate stick to the same budget and lifestyle as people with them, while their earnings sit in a stack at the bank?]

Dear Amy: To the couple with concerns about inquiries: Bottom line — it is your private business! Remember, too, that you have the right to change your mind. In one case we know of, it took 17 years, but when the baby came, it was for all the correct reasons. — No Excuses/No Regrets

Dear Amy: I, too, have the same "no babies" problem.

Nothing infuriates me more than when people say, "You want them, but you just don't know it yet." I am 31, and my husband is 33. We know, and it's a no for us.

I am starting to think "We can't have kids" is the easiest response. — No Babies in Meraux, La.

[Right, until people start asking questions about your fertility and your attempts to have children or pursue adoption.....]

There are so many more complicated, troublesome problems in the world that need questioning and prodding....why on earth do so many people care about the choices that other adults have made--choices with which they are completely content, and which have no bearing on anyone else's quality of life?

This question of course could, and should, be extended to include any other number of issues where benign personal choices somehow become ammunition in any number of private and public forums....live, let live, and MYOB!

(re)writing it in

For whatever reason, the letter to Abby that I posted about yesterday really touched a chord with me, and got me very riled up on behalf of the daughters. After conferring with a friend, who is herself the older sister of a boy with developmental challenges (and engaging in a lunch hour facebook chat debate with SK), I decided not just to blog about it, but to write in to Abby. (Vive la revolucion!)

I tried to condense my post from yesterday, and to be really specific and non-rambly. I think my letter's still on the long side, but we'll see what happens! So, sorry if this post seems redundant--it clearly is. Just want to track a submission so we can see if it goes anywhere!

Dear Abby,

I think you really missed the mark with your response to "Challenged Mom" (March 5), whose two daughters felt that she favored her son, who has "some social and developmental issues." Although the girls had been informed about the details of their brother's needs by a psychologist, they still felt "slighted."

Although I agree with the actions you suggested, I have a real problem with your reasoning. For example, you suggested that the daughters could be more involved in their brother's care, which I think is really important and valuable. But you didn't recommend this as a way to spend time with their mom or know their brother better, but instead to understand more fully how overwhelming and difficult their mother's life is.

Essentially, you advised that the mother convey to two of her children that if they only really understood what an exhausting burden the third one is, they wouldn't ask for more of her time and energy.

The mom asked you for advice on how to assure her children that they're all loved and valued equally. You gave her the tools and the permission to logically and rationally explain to her daughters why she simply doesn't have the energy or the time to love them equally.

You also implied that the daughters either don't fully understand or don't respect their brother's needs, or they wouldn't be raising this issue in the first place. The sisters have most likely been raised right alongside their brother, and witnessed his development their whole lives. Who could know his situation better?

I think it's entirely likely that they do both understand and appreciate his needs, and don' t begrudge him those--but are still hurt that he is always the center of attention.

I was surprised that you didn't at least suggest that when the daughters raise this issue, the mom respond to them with love (not by sending them to the brother's psychologist, though family therapy might indeed be useful). I think a lot could be gained by a loving response--reassuring the daughter of her value, and assessing when she feels most slighted, and making a fair attempt to adjust all of their lifestyles to lessen that.

The son may always need more hours of the mom's time and more intense attention and care than the daughters, but that doesn't mean that at every moment those needs must be prioritized above his sisters' equally valid ones.

A reassuring remark, an open mind, a listening ear and a flexible spirit might be what the daughters need more than anything, and if the mom is not able to hear them out and make some adjustments so that they feel loved and valued, then she IS favoring her son. Not by spending more hours of the day on his needs, which most likely all of them understand and accept, but by prioritizing him, as a whole person, above her daughters.

Finally, the idea that the mother seek some outside care for the brother in order to spend some alone time with each daughter each month is an excellent one, but only as a supplement to real lifestyle change. If the daughters don't feel valued and heard at home, every day, even with their brother, then the afternoon out will feel like it's all they get--that they're allotted 4 hours a month of mom's time, while the rest goes to the brother.

Both the letter from the mom and your response to it were fairly short but they had undertones that the daughters were automatically in the wrong for seeking more attention. While this mother is certainly in an overwhelming and challenging situation, well, her daughters are too. And she's still their mom. Attempting to divide her time equally among them would be an impossibility. But responding to "I feel that Billy gets all the attention in this house" with "Here's a list of all the reasons I can't focus on you," is not only cold, it reinforces that the daughter's complaint is completely justified.

Hmm...OK, yep, it is indeed really long. Oh well! That's what she has editors for. Hopefully it will annoy her enough to rise to the top of the virtual pile.

Mother's Bitter Little Helpers

Today's letter to Abby comes from a mother who has three children: two daughters and a son, who has "some social and developmental issues." The girls feel that the parents favor the son and that they've been generally slighted in family dynamics. The parents have had the son's psychologist explain to the girls that the "circumstances are different" and give them all the reasons why. Abby's reply struck me as particularly dangerous and highly unlikely to bring about the desired effect:

DEAR CHALLENGED MOM: One conversation with the psychologist obviously wasn't enough for at least one of your daughters, and my first suggestion is that you and your husband consider some ongoing family therapy for a while.

If your younger daughter is old enough, involve her while you are taking care of her brother. This will help her see for herself how time-consuming it really is, and what your responsibilities are as the mother of a child with special needs.

Equally important, if at all possible, arrange for respite care for your son once or twice a month to allow you to have some special one-on-one time with your daughters. Perhaps then they will feel less slighted.

Now, every family operates differently. Growing up, my brother and I were so close in age and so into different activities and things that there was very little sibling care back and forth--basically after about 5 years of age, anything I could do, he could do better, so doing daily care for each other was not part of our lifestyle. However, I know that in many families that is NOT the case--such separation may not be feasible or even desirable. Where there are more kids, or a wider age or developmental gap between the kids, many families expect and thrive on full engagement from all siblings in taking care of and raising each other. And that's a great and fulfilling way to be a family too--when everyone is into it, or can't imagine life any other way.

That being said, I think for that to work, it needs to be a part of the fabric of the family's values and attitudes all the way through, and it has to go both ways. The girls need to truly believe that they're benefiting in some way from engaged involvement in their brother's care. Whether it's in confident faith that the family would care for them the same way in dire circumstances, or treasuring a special bond with the brother that comes through knowing him better and more deeply, or simply acknowledging that their family life has made them capable and responsible at a young age, and turning that to their advantage in the world...there has to be something in it for them. It would be nice if it were love and altruistic, saint-like understanding. But anything would do. And I don't think that Abby's advice has much hope of leading to that end.

The daughter feels slighted...so you set her on tending to the needs of the very person she feels slighted by? Although I understand the POINT behind Abby's strategy--to give the daughter a taste of the reality of caring for a developmentally challenged child--I don't think it's the right approach. First of all--since they all live together, who has a better idea of what it takes to care for the brother than the sisters? Whether they're visibly involved or not, they can probably rattle off his schedule, and the things he can and can't do, without thinking. After mom, they're the primary witnesses to his life. They're not oblivious to what's going on, and asking a psychologist (his) to tell them about what they see day in and day out seems almost patronizing.

It would be one thing if, for example, an aunt came in, baby-sat the challenged boy, and when the mother returned said, "I had no idea what you go through, I have so much respect for the way you manage your life." That's not the case here. The daughters know exactly what's going on, because they live it too. And odds are they don't hate or have it out for their brother because of his challenges. But that doesn't mean they don't have needs too. I'm not suggesting they shouldn't be involved with his care. Ideally they absolutely would be--most likely to some extent they already are. I just don't think that the way Abby presents it, and the reasons she presents, are the right ones.

Further, I don't think this is really a great attitude to convey to your children:

"Mom, I feel like you love Jimmy more and favor him."

"I don't love him more, he's just such a millstone around my neck. Try it, you'll see."

Trying to make yourself a martyr to your own daughters, and demonstrating to them that caring for their brother is a burden that eats all your time and energy, is not going to win their sympathy or their support. Even if it's true, and you're exhausted, I don't think it's appropriate to reveal that your children. That's not the right way to get them to understand what you're going through. And really, it's not their job to understand what you're going through. They're your KIDS. And until they're adults, it's YOUR responsibility to take care of THEM. It's absolutely not a partnership of equals, and no one ever said it was. Revealing to your kids that one of them makes your life more difficult than the others is possibly the only thing worse than revealing to them that one of them brings you more joy than the others.

Speaking of which, it really bothers me that mom and dad passed off to the psychologist what should be a part of living every day in their home. It would be one thing if the brother were suddenly stricken in an accident or medical crisis and his needs changed drastically and unexpectedly--then a psychologist exploring the imminent changes with the daughters would be very helpful. And I'm not suggesting that therapy in general wouldn't be useful for this family. But the understanding that meeting the brother's extra needs does not diminish the daughters' value should NOT be a one time conversation with an outsider. It should be woven through the parents' words and actions every day.

Rather than trying to prove to the girls how hard her life is, I think this mom would be better off expending that energy listening to them and working with them to adjust ALL of their lifestyles. Abby turns it into a stand off of who's right, and who has the harder time of it, rather than a conversation about what to do. The girls feel that she's putting her brother's needs above theirs--Abby's solution just puts the brother's AND mother's needs above theirs.

When the daughter says "You don't pay any attention to me," rather than having someone else give her a list of all the reasons why your life is too complicated to include her, say something like "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. How can I make sure I hear the things that are important to you?" or, "If you can help me get dinner ready, I'd love to hear about your day while we're in the kitchen together."

P.S. Where the heck is dad in all this? Mom writes in "we," so he must be around. And yet he's totally absent from the story.

I would love to hear from folks who have more experience with this than I do. What was it like in your family? Were there times when the needs of another family member seemed to always overshadow your own, and how did you deal with it? Or on the other hand, were you the one who needed a lot of extra help at home and in life? And how'd you turn out, in the end? Is there anything your siblings or parents did really right or really wrong?

Big Brothers, Big Sisters...

I just consecutively read two totally unrelated columns (Advice Goddess, which I love, and Single File, which I think is kind of lame) recommending that people volunteer with Big Brothers, Big Sisters. Obviously this is a sign, right?

Anyway, I'm planning to stay in the area for awhile and would like to be more involved in the community, so am seriously considering getting involved with this mentoring program. Anyone have any experience with it and want to share?

Never Ending Baby Story

Today's letter is a sad one. It's from a woman writing in response to another woman, who wrote to Amy seeking advice about how to get her husband to want children. They had married agreeing that they did not want to have any, and she had since changed her mind. So the responder writes:

Dear Amy: I'm responding to the letter from "Anonymous," who said she and her husband did not want children. Now, all of a sudden, she doubts her decision not to have kids.

Let me tell her: "Don't do it!" I didn't want any children, and after just one exposure I had a baby.

It doesn't end there, because they just keep coming. I raised my child. I raised the grandchild, and now I'm raising my great-grandchild.

How many times a day do I say to myself, "We should have used a condom."

––Also Anonymous

This letter, to me, is so sad--sad that the writer never managed to live the life she wanted, sad that she's so bitter and blames the children for this, sad that through four generations, no one in this family seems to have made a different choice for themselves and sad that the writer accepted the consequences of her own actions....and then became responsible for those of her child and grandchild as well. Not much happy going on here. And I can't help feeling that, with so much unhappiness going on, Amy is a bit harsh in her response:

Dear Also: Your letter illustrates the unfortunate consequence of raising an unwanted child, who in your case evidently stayed unwanted.

I take the fact that you raised a grandchild and are now raising a great-grandchild as evidence that your attitude toward children filtered down to your own child––and your grandchild, as well.

When you found yourself pregnant after one "exposure," you could have placed your baby for adoption and at least given it a chance of growing up with motivated and loving parents. Two generations later, it seems unfortunate that you didn't make this choice.

Unlike you, "Anonymous" wants to have a baby, though she says her husband doesn't. One can only hope that if she chooses to have a baby, it will be cherished.

What good does it do to tell this woman, 30-40 years after the fact, that she should have placed her child for adoption? Who knows why she didn't, but it seems like that thought, as well as her regret over not using a condom, must have occurred to her over the years.

Again, I guess this is another case of the columnist respecting the contributor's purpose--this woman didn't ask for advice, she wanted to share the wisdom of her experience. So Amy offered her no help, but instead took her to task for her choices, as well as for spreading her toxic parenting attitudes to other hopeful would-be parents.

You can't undo the past....it doesn't do any good for this woman to dwell on, for a lifetime, her single act of unprotected sex. It also doesn't do any good for Amy to criticize a choice made several decades, and several generations of kids, ago.

If this woman had written in saying, "I don't know what to do, I can't feel the affection and devotion for my children that I know I should feel, and now they keep having kids and the kids keep having kids, and money is tight and I'm doing all the work alone." Amy would have sympathized with her for feeling trapped, overwhelmed, and unloving (I've seen her do it before) and told her to seek counseling (which she probably can't afford) and maybe recommended a book (Amy does this a lot, and I think it's a cool idea...if she actually checks out the major titles on a certain topic and selects the best one, and doesn't just do an Amazon search when a certain issue comes up).

This woman may not have directly asked for help--but, like Cheryl Lavin's contributor a couple weeks ago, needs it. She contacted an advice columnist, and it's the columnist's role to give it.
The fact that this woman has lived out four generations of mistakes, regrets, and apparent abandonment of the children by their mothers doesn't mean she deserves less support--it means she needs more.