They blame me.
Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here or post it in the Slate Parenting Facebook group.
Dear Care and Feeding,
I’m in a pickle, partly of my own doing, and I need to know what to do. My in-laws aren’t great people, but I’ve tolerated them for my husband’s sake. My first mistake, I know. Our son Gregory is 6 years old, and while my in-laws have been terrific with him, and he really likes being with them, recently they made some very bigoted/homophobic comments. They remarked that he was acting “too feminine,” that he needed to “toughen up,” and other similar comments, citing past “behaviors” of his, including him showing them on a FaceTime call how he wears Mommy’s sparkly barrettes in his hair “like a princess.” They also blamed me, saying I encouraged this behavior. None of this was said to him/in his presence (that would make my decision so much easier).
We are supposed to go visit them for a weekend in two weeks, and, deep down, I know the right thing to do is cancel that visit and tell them they aren’t seeing their grandson again unless they straighten the fuck up and accept him for who he is (which, for now, is just a sensitive, curious little kid who is allowed to “behave” however he wants, so long as it isn’t hurting anyone). But I have no idea how I would tell Gregory that we will no longer be visiting his grandparents (because, let’s be real, I doubt they’re ever going to change). It would also mean he wouldn’t see his cousins as often, because they live near my in-laws, and my sister-in-law would not be willing to ban her parents from her house if we went to visit her. My husband tepidly supports me. He knows how wrong they were to say these things, but has never been able to stand up to them, and he insists they would never say anything cruel directly to Gregory. I blame myself for not putting my foot down long ago with my in-laws and my husband about them, and I have no idea how to handle this.
—Apparently Mother Doesn’t Know Best
Dear Doesn’t Know Best,
Let’s not move so quickly to the nuclear option. Why not take this opportunity to tell your in-laws how you feel? Instead of canceling the visit and demanding they “straighten the fuck up,” call them (better yet, have your husband call them—but if he can’t bring himself to do it, you’ll have to take this on yourself) and tell them, calmly and forthrightly, that what they’ve said about your child is unacceptable? I wish you had told them this as soon as they said these things, right in the moment, but it’s not too late. I know you think they’ll “never change,” but you’d be surprised how much people do change—how much change even the most apparently hard-hearted homophobic bigots can be capable of when it comes to someone they love. Give them the chance. Tell them, “I know how much you love Gregory—and he loves you too, so so much! But I’ve got to tell you I’m not at all comfortable with your comments about his needing to toughen up, about his ‘femininity,’ or about his using the word ‘princess’ to refer to himself. We are committed to raising a child who feels free to express himself. We’re not interested in forcing him to conform to gender norms. If you can’t find a way to support that, it’s going to be hard to continue to encourage a relationship between you and your grandchild.”
Now, if their response is, “We don’t agree with that” (or worse), you will have a decision to make. You might say, “Well, until you feel you are able to support the way we’re raising him, we’re not going to be able to see you, I’m sorry.” And let them sit with that for a while. If they promise not to say anything along the lines of what they’ve been saying recently—even if they can’t promise to change their thinking—I think you can (and should) proceed carefully with that scheduled visit. See if they keep their word. Surely you’ve heard of faking it until you make it. There’s hope for them.
Even if their immediate reaction is, “Forget it, you’re out of your mind, we’re appalled that you’d raise our grandchild that way!”, be aware that canceling this visit doesn’t mean ending that relationship forever. They may come around at least partway, and I hope you’ll then give them the chance to come all the way around. I’ve seen it happen. More than once.
But whatever you do, please don’t use this as an excuse to cut off contact between your child and the in-laws you’ve never liked. I don’t believe that tolerating them for your husband’s sake was a mistake. Being kind to people—or even “just” tolerating them—for the sake of those we love is not a bad thing. And even better is taking the opportunity to help those people grow. Not just for their sake—or for your husband’s—but for your child’s.
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Dear Care and Feeding,
My 3-year-old is pretty shy but has developed a strong friendship/attachment to another girl at preschool. Think: When I drop her off in the morning, she’s reluctant to let me go unless she can immediately sit next to Alia, in which case she’s totally fine. Her teachers have been happy to accommodate this, and usually pair the two girls for activities or snack time. I, however, am starting to get a little worried. I don’t like the idea that my daughter’s resilience is based on her proximity to one specific kid. I don’t like the burden it could place on Alia, either. So far the friendship seems mutual, but the attachment isn’t. Alia is outgoing and probably wouldn’t mind playing with any of the kids in class. I don’t want resentment to build because she’s always playing with my daughter. Do you have any suggestions, or am I making a big deal over something that will eventually sort itself out?
—Shy at School
Dear Shy at School,
If your child were 6 years old, I might answer this question differently. But at 3—which is still very young!—her reluctance to part with you and her transference of her attachment to you doesn’t seem to me troubling. Give her some time to build up her “resilience.” I would guess that for her it’s a very big deal that there’s someone—anyone—she feels she can trust and depend on the way she does you. And I suspect that, with time, this will become more generalized. (Alia may force the issue by eventually including other children in their play. Which will be uncomfortable for your child at first, but will gradually—if not altogether smoothly—become less so.) I also don’t think you have to worry about resentment building up in Alia. Kids this young don’t let resentment build up. She’ll let your daughter know what’s what, one way or another.
In short, I think this is something you can leave to the children to sort out. You should also trust the preschool’s teachers, for whom this situation is no doubt old hat. If they become concerned, they’ll let you know. So don’t try to take control of it. Let it be.
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Dear Care and Feeding,
How do you let your child be bored? I’ve been seeing an awful lot of content about how children these days aren’t going to experience the sensation of boredom or appreciate silence or peace, and now I’m wondering if we’re doing our children a disservice by essentially being prepared with SOMETHING for them to do all the time. My kids are 3 and 5 and I think fairly independent. We’ve arranged our house so they can get healthy snacks and fill up their water bottles on their own, and also so that they have access to toys and art supplies as needed.
When we go out, we have a little backpack for each of them, filled with books, paper, and crayons, etc. We do use screens (hello, Digital Nanny) but try and keep within suggested limits by age. On the rare occasion my 5-year-old says that he’s bored, we talk with him about finding a solution for that, come to a decision, and move forward. But I honestly think he’s said it maybe five times in his life. Should I purposely set aside time where they just have to sit quietly staring at the wall to get used to the sensation of boredom? That feels like a punishment, honestly, but I also don’t want them to freak out when/if they’re in scenarios in life where a solution to “boredom” just isn’t available.
—Is “Bored” Important?
Dear Is “Bored” Important,
It’s not boredom that’s important to facilitate—it’s what we used to call “inner resources.” The message that it’s harmful to schedule your child’s every waking moment, or that screen time should be strictly limited, should not be interpreted as “make sure your child gets bored.” Boredom is not something to be encouraged—and certainly not to help prepare them for a life in which boredom is inevitable. A child who has the chance to think about and decide what to do next—and has access to a variety of materials, including plenty that require the input of imagination and creativity—learns that being bored is not inevitable. And it isn’t. There is always a solution. (Says the former English professor, who got through 34 years of department meetings by doodling, knitting, making notes about a project she had in mind to work on next, and just plain daydreaming—and who had a beloved older colleague who filled notebooks with quick-drawn portraits of everyone in her line of vision.)
When I was a child, I spent a lot of time alone. If I stared at the wall (I don’t recall ever staring at a wall!), it was because I was making up stories in my head—because I was too young to write them down, but that didn’t stop me from making them up. And as soon as I was old enough to write them down, I did. I also had a shoebox full of mostly homemade paper dolls that acted out the stories I made up for them. I drew a lot of pictures. I listened to records. I read a lot. I didn’t so much “appreciate” silence as I was used to it; it never occurred to me to be troubled by it. And I have no memory of ever feeling bored (I had “negative” emotions, yes, but boredom wasn’t one of them). And as an adult, I learned quickly that if something bored me (my first job out of college, for instance), I wouldn’t suffer it in silent agony—or just grin and bear it. Instead, I would find a way to not be bored or I would get the hell out. Find another job. (And then another, if necessary.) Break off a dull, dead-end relationship. Shake things up.
You don’t want to teach your kids to be resigned to boredom. You want to make them boredom-proof.
One curious result of my own boredom-proofness is that I seem to find some things that many people are bored by (in choir practice, repeating the same song—or the same verse of a song, or the same one line of a song—over and over again until it’s right; in ballet classes, a long barre portion with what my friend Judith complained were “way too many slow tendus”) positively exhilarating. I love to do something again and again as I try to perfect it. (I also have a much higher-than-usual tolerance for slow-moving films and novels, the kind in which nothing much takes place. In fact, these tend to be my favorites.) I consider all of this an excellent side-effect. And I believe I owe it to an almost wholly unscheduled childhood, and (yup) not too much gazing at the only screen we had in those days—a black-and-white TV—plus unlimited access to stuff that required only the addition of my imagination.
Honestly, a 2024-version of that isn’t out of reach. As I think you already know. Bonus tip: Maybe limit your own exposure to “content.” It’s not healthy for you, either.
Dear Care and Feeding,
I feel as if my partner does not understand my financial situation, and trying to talk to her about it makes her think I’m mad at her. She and I are both students; we both live at home. I pay rent to do so; she does not. This, as well as a handful of ongoing projects, means a lot of my pay is tied up long before it hits my account. Add on the fact that I just spent nearly two months at an unpaid internship three days a week, and the result is that I’ve fallen into debt (small, but still a challenge). I’ve learned my lesson regarding stretching one’s finances, but as I work my way out of this fix, a level of austerity measures are necessary while my debts are paid off.
My partner does not seem to understand the need for said measures and often plans expensive outings and elaborate trips, just assuming I will come along and pay, and purchases theatre tickets at a premium and expects to be reimbursed. Now she’s announced an overseas holiday with her family where I “only” need to pay nearly $1,000. She gets incredibly upset when I discuss this with her and explain why I cannot do all of these expensive things. I love her so much and it kills me to see her upset but I simply cannot afford to do these things right now. How do I get the message across? And what’s so wrong with spending some budget nights in, anyway?
—Anxious in Adelaide
Dear Anxious,
Just how explicit have you been about your financial situation? If you’ve made it completely clear—and I’m talking citing chapter and verse, not a generic, “Gee, I’m not sure I can afford that”—and she still “does not seem to understand,” still expects you to be able to drop a thousand bucks to keep up with her family (and so on), and still gets upset when you tell her you can’t afford to do something she wants to do, then I am sorry to have to tell you that your romance is likely doomed for failure.
I know, you’ve said you love her. So make sure you’ve given her every chance to step up: Make absolutely certain you’ve spelled things out for her. If she won’t listen when you tell her in person, write it out for her (and tell her, in writing, why you’re doing that). Then it’s up to her to be a better partner to you. But—back to the bad news—I suspect you two may be fundamentally incompatible—either because you have very different ways of thinking about money (which is often a make-or-break thing for couples), or because she is incapable of empathy and cannot bring herself to sacrifice momentary happiness (or what she thinks of as happiness) for your sake and the sake of her relationship with you.
And there’s nothing wrong with spending some budget nights in. But if she thinks there is, it’s time for you to move on.
—Michelle
More Advice From Slate
My oldest child is in third grade. He’s in an established gifted program at our public elementary school and gets perfect grades (knock on wood), but he seems to have a lot of time to himself. Yesterday, for example, he read Mr. Popper’s Penguins and at least one Calvin and Hobbes treasury at school, start to finish, on his own time. (I thought he may have skimmed these books, but he seems to remember them in detail.)
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