Entering a second childhood?

Today, a rather bitter and entitled grandfather is annoyed that his grandchildren aren't as email savvy as he would like:

Dear Amy: I have three grandchildren, ages 13, 9 and 7. I wrote each of them an e-mail, asking them various questions and telling them their grandmother and I love them.
After several days, I didn't hear any response, so I e-mailed my daughter-in-law asking if the kids had received my messages.
She replied that one child doesn't have an e-mail address, and the others don't check their e-mail. I asked her to pass my messages along.
More time went by with no response, so I e-mailed back and said I was very disappointed in them. I said I felt their lack of a reply was disrespectful.
My daughter-in-law said she was very busy and that the kids simply don't use e-mail. Amy, I'm not blaming the kids, but I feel that their mom should convey the contents of these communications with the children and ask them to respond, any way they wish. Your views?
— Upset Granddad

Although email is new to the equation, this is an ancient problem. Grandparents want to know their grandkids, and more often than not, the kids don't respond in the way they'd like--or not as often as they'd like. I love this book called The Holy Man, by Susan Trott. It consists of a number of short chapters about people who seek the wisdom of a holy man to help them with their problems--but in each case it's the experience of waiting in line, living simply and respectfully in community, that really helps them. One of the chapters is about a woman who is frustrated because her grandchildren never send her thank you notes...ultimately she learned that she'd only find satisfaction in loving when she didn't expect a quantifiable response.

Would the grandfather be satisfied if the daughter-in-law updated him on what the kids were doing? If she added a "the kids say hi and send their love" line to an email she wrote? If she read the emails to them and reported back to him that they were happy to hear from him? If they answered his emails but didn't address his questions, or express their love explicitly? When you limit the kind of response that will make you happy, the odds that someone else can achieve it reasonably is also limited.

Telling the grandchildren that he's disappointed and hurt that they didn't respond will only taint any future response--he'll feel that they're only doing it because they complained when he didn't, and won't "count" those responses--there's no good way out. Why is he the one acting like a child in this scenario?

I suspect this grandfather may have gone out of his way to learn to email for the explicit purpose of establishing a relationship with the tech-savvy younger generation and is particularly frustrated that it's not working the way he expected. (How did he even send an email to a child who has no email address?) It seems that even in today's world, kids younger than jr. high don't have much use for email, and the passwords and usernames are probably too much for little ones to keep track of. And there's no reason at all that a mom should also be her kids' secretary, checking three separate email accounts, taking their emails, conveying messages, and passing back responses. Email is like cell phones: until a child is old enough to use it responsibly on their own, there is no reason for them to HAVE their own.

Amy says:

Dear Upset: I agree that a parent should make sure the children receive your messages and respond — but I disagree with your choice to beat this to death via e-mail with your daughter-in-law.
Pick up the phone. Pay a visit. Focus on getting to know your grandchildren in person, if possible. Once you form a solid connection with them, it will be easier for you to establish a way to communicate.

I would also emphasize the importance of sending letters, cards, or small gifts in the mail. In this way, it's possible to send a direct, personal message that the child won't miss, and will be excited to receive. A word of warning: they probably won't write back through snail mail as often as he'd like anyway. But it will sink in all the same. My grandmother used to send long, rambling, nearly illegible letters, packed with exclamation points, smiley faces, and strings of unrelated anecdotes....at the time I wasn't really sure what to do with them--I certainly didn't write back as much as I should have. Now she can't do it anymore, but I can, and I do.

And as a further note...why is it only the mom's responsibility to make sure the kids communicate with their granddad, and thus only her fault when they, as children will, don't respond in a timely way? Sounds like he's their father's father...maybe his son should be involved.

"The Odd Couple" wouldn't be funny if Oscar and Felix were girls....

Today's issue strikes close to home for me, since in some ways I recognize myself in the person the writer is complaining about. I also recognize one of my friend's crazy roommates...and have to wonder...are we all truly nuts? Or do the people who think we are just not understand us?

Let's take a look.....

Today's writer has this to say:

DEAR ABBY: I'm a 25-year-old woman who moved in with a friend, "Natasha," who is also 25, after her boyfriend of seven years kicked her out three months ago.

One of the conditions of my moving in was that I'd get to use her car for work and errands because I'd be moving out of my mother's house and had shared Mom's car.

Well, I accidentally spilled a drink in Natasha's car while I was using it, and she revoked my privilege to drive it. I'm looking for a car of my own, but I have already spent a great deal of money to move in with Natasha and help her in her time of need.

I understand that the car is Natasha's property, and she can do with it as she pleases. But I'm concerned that she went back on her word so quickly into our living situation. She has now started leaving me nasty, belittling little notes and is scathing with her choice of words. She refuses to talk to me and will communicate with me now only through writing. I'd like to take the high road, but I'm having a hard time finding it.

Until now, I enjoyed living with her, and I don't want to end our arrangement. How can I have backbone but still be a good friend and roommate? -- STRANDED IN A SMALL TOWN IN ILLINOIS

I'll be honest, I'd probably be pretty pissed if a roommate was using my car, for free, on a daily basis, and then spilled something in it (esp. in the driver's seat). And, as Abby wisely suggests, I'd probably stay annoyed unless or until it was cleaned "properly"--no smell, no dampness, no stickiness, and as little stain as possible. I'd probably also expect that the person wouldn't drink in the car anymore, or at least that she'd make a show of promising not to drink in the car anymore until an appropriate period of mourning for the upholstery had elapsed (it really is the thought that counts) and we'd both sort of forgotten.

I know, this is evidence that I'm a bit obsessively obsessive but, as the writer points out--it's Natasha's car. She can set her own expectations and rules, and just because the friend moved in, "in her [natasha's] time of need," doesn't mean use of the car doesn't come with strings attached. (I wonder how she's been getting to work since Natasha revoked car privileges....clearly she's been managing somehow).

Of course, things get more complicated when you move from the personal car to the shared living space, which is now aflutter wtih "scathing" notes. I'm familiar with the scathing note from both sides. My best friend (a proud Oscar in the Odd Couple scenario...) has been on the receiving end of many a note like this from her former roommate--and is usually totally bewildered, hurt, or later, amused, by it.

(This friend, admittedly, loves to push buttons. Almost a month ago she wrapped her gum in a scrap of paper and placed it in my car cupholder, mocking me when I protested. She claims it's all part of her philanthropic effort to prevent me from turning into her crazy grandma. Of course, I think her crazy grandma, who keeps her linens in labeled ziplock bags containing a matching bottom sheet, top sheet, and pillowcase, is a genius!

Our friendship has thrived only because in 6th grade, with wisdom beyond our years, we realized we could never live together. Or room together on trips.)

In this situation (or in any situation, I guess) these notes do not seem to effectively communicate whatever it is that the roommate wants to get across--just makes her look like a crazy.

And yet, I'm not so blind to my own faults that I don't recognize my tendency to leave roomie-do notes that are often passive aggressive, and sometimes verge on scathing. And I know it's not particularly nice or mature, and probably not effective. It wouldn't surprise me to hear that my roommates think I'm crazy at these times--because I only write the notes when I feel like I'm GOING crazy. When last week's tuna-encrusted-bowl is sitting next to (or worse, IN) the sink instead of easily tossed in the freely available dishwasher....when I return from a weekend away and have to do the dishes from a party I didn't attend...when the dishwasher is overflowing with stuff but hasn't been run....then I morph into silent, seething, note-leaving Natasha.

I know it would be better to be light hearted and open and just say, outright, why I'm so cranky....but a big part of why I'm cranky is that it's not obvious why I'm cranky. To me, it's second nature that we should all clean up after ourselves ASAP--so part of the frustration is that not everyone in the universe sees things exactly this way.

This is something I'll have to get used to, and quick: my fiance, who lives in another state, admittedly requires a week to prepare his apartment for my visits. (And really, I'm not white glove testing every surface. My own room would not pass that test. I just can't stand to use the sink if all his plates are IN it, and can't put them in the dishwasher, if the dishwasher is half-full of clean stuff from last time it was run...but I digress)

So in short, dear drink spiller, take a good look around your shared apartment. Was the drink you spilled in the car truly a one off (because it honestly can and does happen to everyone) and did you do your best to make amends? Or was it an accident waiting to happen? Does Natasha clean up after you without you realizing it, and become resentful as a result? Do you also resent the fact that Natasha cleans up after you and then gets bitter about it, rather than just leaving your stuff for you to deal with?

Or are you easygoing and cool to live with, and Natasha is truly holding a grudge over something insignificant, and punishing you unfairly?

Both are entirely possible. In fact, both are probably true. It's most likely that Natasha's resentment over one thing is seeping over into the rest of her interactions, and that's not fair to Spillsky McSoda. But Natasha also probably spends a lot of time screaming to herself, "not fair, not fair not fair!" So they (and we) have to meet somewhere in the middle of all this injustice.

The voyage through mysterious roommate crankiness can be a long and treacherous one. You may want to bring a snack. But please, for the love of God....rinse your plate!