Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Do you have a question about care and feeding? Submit it here.
Dear Care and Feeding,
I am a single, childless aunt of four wonderful children. I love these kids like crazy, but they are the only children I see. I don’t really know what is normal and what is not, and I wouldn’t say I am particularly “good” with children. I live across the country and see them all twice a year.
My 7-year-old niece is named after me, and I feel a certain amount of pressure to have a “special” relationship. The problem is, I don’t think she likes me—not at all. And to be honest, I don’t really like her either. Even as a baby, I got “who are you?” vibes. I always chalked it up to her being a kid, not seeing me often, and my sister not forcing her kids to hide their feelings (the way she and I were raised). I’ve never betrayed my feelings for her to my sister, but it’s hard when my sister asks me how “nice” I think this kid is. To be honest, I’ve always felt like she’s a bit of a child.
On a recent family vacation, things hit a new low. As I was brushing her hair, my niece told me she wanted to strangle me with her hair tie. Having reached a point of exhaustion with her, I put the brush down and said, “I’m done, I’m not going to let you talk to me that way.” As I walked away, she said out loud, “It’s over.” My “Problem solved!” I was completely shocked. I left the vacation feeling like I had exhausted all my strength with this child.
I know I’m particularly sensitive to unpleasant words, tone of voice, facial expressions. I also know that I’m the adult here, and I clearly have a lot on my plate if I’m constantly this excited about a child. Plus, the child is only SEVEN! Maybe this is normal behavior for a 7-year-old? What’s your advice on this? Is it possible that I’m right, that she’s just a little kid, and that I can stop trying to foster a closeness between us that doesn’t exist? Or am I a horrible, overly sensitive adult who shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss a child?
— Perplexed and resentful aunt
Dear Bewildered Aunt,
I’m sure your niece wasn’t silently judging you as a baby in your arms; at most, she probably thought “that’s not my parent” and “can she breastfeed, though?” I don’t know what she’s said or done since childhood that’s made you feel like she doesn’t like you—or if it’s specific to you, for that matter, and not a general #notimpressed phenomenon that happens no matter who she’s with. But that doesn’t mean it’s all in your head. She might really just not like you! Maybe she’s picking up on your apparent dislike of her? And even if neither of those things are true, kids are often very direct, which can be funny at times and infuriating at other times.
I probably would have taken the hair tie comment as a joke, even if it was a bit rude. The following remark (“It’s My “problem solved”) was certainly more arrogant, but at that point she was also reacting to your anger. Without knowing more about your history or interactions, I can’t say whether you’re right that she’s a real kid or not. But I have a hard time buying into the idea that a 7-year-old is “just” anything – “just a little kid”; “just a monster”; “just an angel,” for that matter. We’re all, kids included, a little more complicated than that.
Your niece has moments of bad temper, which is very common, and it’s normal to be annoyed by them. If you have genuine concerns about her behavior or the way she treats you, you can talk to your sister about it. You also don’t have to pressure yourself to feel particularly close to your namesake. But you have to recognize that occasional behavior doesn’t completely define your niece, and she’s still learning and growing. You may end up having a very different relationship when she’s older, and even if that’s not the case, I think it’s a little harsh to dismiss her as a hopeless brat at 7.
Do you want advice on parenting, children or family life?
Submit your questions to Care and Feeding here. This is anonymous! (Questions may be edited for publication.)
Dear Care and Feeding,
I have three grown children and I don’t know what to do with my youngest, Rita. My husband and I were teachers, so we had high expectations. Our first two children excelled academically on their own. They transferred from public to private schools and attended Ivy Leagues for their undergraduate and graduate studies. Rita didn’t follow that path and stayed in public school for K-12, college, and graduate school.
My husband and I used a reward system. Whenever my children wanted something, we required them to have at least a 3.5 GPA. This is how my other two children were able to attend private school, travel abroad, take tutoring, attend sports camps, buy a new bike, etc. (Rita did not use tutoring, in particular, because she would not meet our standards. My husband said Rita would use any special accommodations to avoid schoolwork.) These opportunities allowed my first two children to marry into wealthy families and get lucrative jobs.
Rita did well through fourth grade. I wondered if she had a learning disability because she kept trying and failing. My husband, her teachers, and our doctor said she was lazy and unmotivated. My therapist, who also saw her, said girls couldn’t have ADHD. My husband insisted that the same reward system be maintained for Rita, especially when she begged us to stop the bullying at school. He thought the bullying would be the ultimate motivation for her to improve, but it didn’t.
Fast forward to shortly after Rita’s 50th birthday, she was diagnosed with ADHD. My husband and the other kids don’t believe it. I’m skeptical. Rita said we punished her for behaviors she couldn’t control, and that the only reason her siblings were successful was because we rewarded them for being neurotypical. She says we never really helped her. We tried to help her, but ultimately, Rita was the only one responsible for her successes, as were my other two children.
Rita already had a distant relationship with us, and now it’s almost nonexistent. She doesn’t want to talk to her siblings. She says she should have a bigger share of her inheritance because we gave a lot of money to her siblings, but not to her. (Even if that’s true, I don’t want to punish the other two.) How can I make Rita understand that we did the best we could? I can’t change the past, and I miss my grandchildren.
—We didn’t know that!
Dear friends, we did not know it,
I’m always amazed at how many people seem to consider it inherently undignified to admit they’ve made a mistake and apologize to their children.
In fact, your choices were far from “the best you could do.” You may not have been aware of Rita’s ADHD when she was little. It’s not your fault that you were given incorrect and outdated information about how girls can’t get ADHD. But you knew that your child was trying—your words, from your letter—and that she was still struggling. And instead of trying to see her strengths and abilities, trying to figure out how to help her, you and your husband blamed her, treated her worse than her siblings, left her at the mercy of bullies, and denied her opportunities for fun and learning—even a tutor who could have helped her study more effectively and improve her grades that meant so much to you!—because you decided she was a failure because of laziness. I can’t imagine the damage this must have done not only to his trust in you, but to his self-esteem as well.
You are now questioning the diagnosis your daughter was given, presumably by someone qualified to do so. (It’s as if you don’t want her to have the excuse of a disability, even though in your letter you admit that you once wondered if she had one!) You and your husband refuse to admit that you made serious and damaging mistakes in raising her, and you still blame her for what you perceive as “failures” – like not going to an Ivy League college (I implore you to get over it) or marrying a rich guy (marrying a rich guy is no accomplishment!). But it seems that Rita has done quite well for herself despite your appalling lack of compassion and self-awareness. She graduated high school and went to college and graduate school. She now has a family of her own. She was curious and cared enough about herself to ask for an evaluation that provided new and important information about how her brain works. And while you may not view her confrontation with you favorably, I think it demonstrates both an admirable willingness to stand up for herself and a desire to give you one last chance. Think about it: She could have simply kept quiet and never told you why. Instead, she’s giving you the opportunity to hear why she’s angry, to understand something important about her, to take responsibility for your actions, and to apologize.
As for money: If Rita needs financial help right now, offer it; it’s the least you can do. I might end the inheritance discussion for now—I wouldn’t say no outright to what Rita is asking, because I could imagine a scenario in which she might truly need or deserve more of the support and resources you denied her when she was a child. But it might be wise to focus on healing the fractures you’ve caused in your relationship (assuming that’s even possible) before addressing the inheritance issue. Until you actually choose to respect, empathize, and make amends for your daughter, I don’t know how you’re going to have an honest, productive conversation about anything.
Your parenting choices have caused your daughter decades of pain. And yet, you could be able…
News Source : slate.com
Gn Health
