Enabling Adult Children

Ivy says:

This steps out of the Home Ec category a bit, but I thought it was important enough to put here. And, it does have to do with personal finances, so there is that. Recently a dear friend of mine emailed me about watching her mom work two jobs to help finance her adult sister’s lifestyle. She wrote about the dilemma of wanting to help mom and sister without continuing to enable her sister.

This is something I completely understand, having watched my grandfather spend away all his and my grandmother’s money to “help” my uncle. All he was really doing was enabling my uncle to continue to be a child, even though my uncle was well into adulthood.

My uncle, Tommy, would quit working, lose his apartment, move back into my grandparents’ home with promises of working and quitting drinking once and for all. Then he’d lay up in bed all day and drink all night. My grandma would get tired of it and throw him out, and my grandfather would give him money to get an apartment and the cycle would begin again.

By the time my grandfather died, Tommy was well into his 40s and the rest of us were wise to his ways and refused to help him anymore. See, by continuing to enable him, they were continuing the cycle of alcoholism and by the time my grandfather wasn’t around anymore to help him, it was too late. We all hoped that he would be able to finally hit rock bottom, get the help he needed, and get out of the cycle.

Well, it didn’t end well. We finally all moved out of state, he (fortunately) stayed, and I get sent news articles from time to time from one of my other uncles about my uncle’s crazy antics. Last I heard, he was stabbed by his ex-wife and was going to jail for his part in that domestic assault.

The truth is, this cycle could have been stopped a long, long time ago, had my grandfather not enabled my uncle back when he was in his 20s, his 30s, even. But you can’t make another person do what you want them to do. I couldn’t stop my grandfather from enabling my uncle, and my friend can’t make her mother stop enabling her sister. (Who, I might mention, is not apparently like my uncle with an alcohol problem, it just appears she’s not great with finances and isn’t big on work.)

So what can we responsible siblings do when we watch our parents enable our adult siblings? How can we sit back and watch while mom eats tuna sandwiches and sis is buying her cats organic cat food*?

I have a few ideas, but keep in mind that you cannot make anyone do anything they do not want to do. First, I’d consider sending mom to Financial Peace University. I recently took this through my church and it was immensely eye opening. Sending the sister would be a good idea too, but from my experience with my own class, it may be money wasted. There was a lady in our class who was enabling her adult child. She tried to get the daughter to come, but she made one class, complained the entire time, and never came back. Still, if you think your sister is willing, it might be good to send her, too.

Secondly, help out when you can with items, not cash. We even still send my uncle a care package at Christmas and another sometime in the summer. See, it’s not that we don’t love him and it’s not even that we have completely given up on him. But we cannot continue to support him financially, so we help out in other ways. When I get good coupons for toiletries and personal care items, I set them aside to send in those care packages. Same with other items he might need- he’s mostly homeless, so I try to keep the stuff factor down and send things he can use and can store in a backpack. We also try to send him a new backpack every couple of years.

Finally, send messages of love and encouragement, and try to keep talking to mom about not continuing to enable your sister. Encourage mom to watch shows like “Intervention”- those are usually awesome examples of families enabling their adult children. It might open her eyes.

The hardest part is, mom is thinking she’s doing the best for her daughter. I know with the lady in my FPU class, she kept talking about how much she loved her daughter and wanted the best for her. I finally told her that the best way to love her daughter was to cut her loose and let her fend for herself. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but I know the best thing my parents ever did for me was to tell me I had to fend for myself. I crashed a few times, and then I flew and haven’t looked back.

And you know, it’s funny, but I do think having these kind of family difficulties are good for some family members. Watching my uncle throw his entire life away has kept me (mostly) on the straight and narrow. We all have our family skeletons, but they do make for good life lessons.

*Note: If you’re going to have pets, please do feed them the best food you can possibly afford. It’s better for the pets. But if you’re living on someone else’s dime, don’t get pets you can’t afford, seriously. And y’all KNOW I’m a huge animal lover, but having pets you truly cannot afford is cruel to the pets.

A Side Helping Of Transparency

Ivy says:

Hi. My name is Ivy Hogan and I am using anti-depressants. That might not sound like a shocking revelation- after all, I’ve read several posts in recent weeks decrying how many doctors overprescribe anti-depressants, and how, surely, all these people who are on anti-depressants don’t really need them. I, myself, fought being put on anti-depressants for a very long time, partly due to the “you don’t really need them” stigma and partly because I wanted to see if I could get out of this funk myself, because, really, things in my life are hard lately and I thought that these things were the root cause.

And they might be. For the newbies here and for people who don’t know me and don’t know what’s going on in my life, I’ll give you a recap. About five years ago, my dad was diagnosed with IgA nephropathy. Now, for those of you who don’t feel like clicking the link, the long and short of it is that it is a very slow moving kidney disease that has no cure and usually results in kidney failure. 5 years ago when my dad was diagnosed, they estimated that he had already had it for at least 15 years and was getting to the end stages of the disease.

They attempted to treat it with prednisone, but that has resulted in many other problems such as diabetes and cataracts. And, in addition to everything else, because of my dad’s kidneys failing, he has also developed congestive heart failure, gout, and a few other problems I can’t even remember right now. Basically- my dad is dying very slowly right before my very eyes, and there is nothing I can do about it.

On top of everything else, last year on August 31st, my grandma passed away very suddenly. My grandma, who had lived with us for 8 years. My grandma, who I was very close to. Losing her was heartbreaking, and the subsequent cleaning out of all the stuff she had owned piled sadness onto my heart as much as her stuff was being piled into my house.

You might be thinking, “Ivy, that doesn’t make you a candidate for anti-depressants, that makes you a candidate for therapy.” I’d agree, except I talk to a therapist nearly every Friday. He’s been recommending I see my doctor (or a psychiatrist) for antidepressants for 6 months, at least.

So after several incidents where I picked fights with people I dearly love, after sleeping several entire days away, and finally, after overhearing a conversation my kids had about my depression, I talked to my doctor and he prescribed Celexa.

The night I filled the prescription I was at my mom and dad’s house, and Dad and I went to the store. On the way, I told him about my new prescription. “Thank God,” he said. “I’ve been watching your normal sparkle drain out of you for nearly a year now and I was about to say something to you. Did you know Mr. Ivy had even called me about your depression?”

See, I think with clinical depression, the person who is depressed is often the last to really know. Everyone else sees it, but they don’t want to bring it up to you for fear of making you angry or more depressed. Dad went on to tell me several things that I really needed to hear. First, he told me that it runs in my family. He talked about how, when he was a kid, my grandma would be fine for a few years, but then would lock herself into her bedroom for months and even sometimes years at a time. What was she doing? Sleeping, mainly, he said. She cried a lot too.

This reminded me of when I was a kid and my dad would spend a bunch of time in his bedroom, sleeping or just staring at the television. This just stopped when I was in high school. I asked him what was the difference, why it stopped and he simply said, “That’s when Prozac came on the market.” Ah-hah. One of my life’s mysteries explained.

I told him about how many people in my life had been telling me to just snap out of it, or that I needed to get my act together, or that I needed to start thinking positively. And my very favorite- my mom told me if I cleaned my house, I would be much happier. Because we all know, a clean house is totally the key to sanity.

Then my dad told me something that may have been one of the most important things I needed to hear: the people telling me to snap out of it, or think positively or clean my house do NOT understand what being clinically depressed is like. These people are well meaning, but because they cannot comprehend that all the positive thinking and spotless houses in the world are not going to cheer me up, are making me feel worse. What I needed to do was just what I did. Go to the doctor and find an anti-depressant that works for me.

I’m writing this for you Home Eccers that do understand. For those of you who may or may not have problems in your life, but still feel hopeless. For those of you who, all you want to do is sleep. And for those of you who think it’s probably better for everyone else if you vanished off the face of the planet. Have you been there? Are you there now?

I’ve been on the Celexa for 3 weeks now. People have been telling me they’re so glad to see my “voice” back. Mr. Ivy grabbed me and hugged me hard yesterday and said he had missed me immensely. My oldest son said, “What, you’re laughing? I didn’t know you knew how to do that anymore.” Things are getting back on track.

If you’ve been feeling hopeless or anything similar, I cannot urge you enough to pick up the phone and call your doctor for an appointment to talk to them about getting the right medicine to help you. Also, do not discount the amazing benefits of talk therapy. I’ve always said everyone should have a therapist. They’re like having friends you can tell everything to with the bonus of being absolutely sure they’re never going to spread gossip about you. Plus, you don’t have to deal with their problems. Therapists have their own therapists for that.

Be well, Home Eccers. I’m getting there, myself.

Don’t forget to check out our latest giveaway.

It’s everybody’s fault but mine.

Ivy says:

I’m back up on my soapbox, Home Eccers! Someone stop me! Or not, since my rants are (hopefully) your entertainment. Today’s issue: the “It’s not my fault” syndrome. Oh, Home Eccers. How this one bugs me to death.

My 14 year old is going to kill me for posting about this, but he’s the poster boy for this, although I have certainly seen it from many other people. A couple of weeks ago, he lost his backpack which had his music and drill in it for band. He had actually left it on the band field less than a week before this happened, but someone found it and gave it back to him. Then he lost it again, this time for good.

His claim: he left it in my car. My claim: he took it to a friend’s house and lost it there. Now, if he had left it in my car, then apparently someone broke into my car, overlooked my stereo and all the CDs in my car, the money in the center console, and anything else valuable. But they stole his backpack and nothing else. And left no evidence of a break-in, those crafty thieves. Um. Yeah. Right.

No matter what happened to it, he lost it and he’s responsible for replacing it and the items in it. Every time this is brought up, I hear how unfair this is since it’s not his fault. I remind him that it is, indeed, his fault since he’s responsible for keeping track of his own stuff. And round and round it goes.

But it’s not just my kid, like I said. My mom’s a teacher and she constantly hears tales of woe of how it’s not the kid’s fault that their homework wasn’t finished, or their book was lost or destroyed or they didn’t take paper and pencil to class. I see it on the internet- this morning’s example came from LiveJournal where someone was lamenting that their mother was angry at them for not doing housework. But, it’s not their fault! Doing housework makes this person feel like a slave!

Parents: we need to teach our kids responsibility and owning up to their own responsibility when they mess up. We can start by always admitting fault when something IS our fault. Yes, kids, dinner is burnt and we have to eat ham sandwiches. It’s my fault. Yep, I failed to wash your favorite shirt. Sorry, my fault.

And we have to let them suffer the consequences of their own failings. How many times have we rescued a kid when they told us that there’s a school project due TOMORROW MORNING and it’s 9:38 PM? Stop rescuing. Let them fail. It won’t kill them now, but it certainly might teach them a lesson about responsibility.

Tell me, Home Eccers. What do you do to teach your kids responsibility?

Picky Eaters, Picky Eaters

Ivy says:

I have been running across a phenomena so often lately, that I needed to write about it here just to get it out of my head. The only thing is, I know around here, I’m mostly preaching to the choir. Even so, I hope I catch a few people and get them to thinking.

The problem? Picky eaters. I see it all over the place- in a frugality community I read: “Can you give me some recipes that are budget friendly? Here’s what I don’t eat: fruits, vegetables, seafood, fish, grains, red meat, white meat, chocolate, or pasta” I also see it in real life:

Them: Can’t you get Heather to post some recipes that are kid friendly?

Me: All Heather’s recipes are kid friendly, she has 4 kids.

Them: Oh, I’ve never seen anything kid friendly there.

Me: Oven Fried Chicken Fingers? Pizza???

Them: I don’t know. That seems awfully…hard to make….I just usually get takeout. And we have chicken nuggets and pizza all the time. I’d like something new.

Me: ::boggles::

And that’s the problem right there. By constantly catering to your kid’s tastes, you’re setting them up to be like the first example. Now, my kids have had their fair share of chicken nuggets and pizza. And yes, I’ve been through the McDonald’s drive through a time or two (hundred). But the bulk of my children’s diet is a variety of fresh, whole foods cooked in various ways. See, if a kid doesn’t like tomatoes raw, they might like them cooked. And the same kid that despises okra fried may love it steamed.

One of the biggest problems I see is parents who deicide ahead of time that their kid isn’t going to like something based on their own childhood likes and dislikes. I’m guilty of that myself. As a kid, I hated onions. So when my daughter at age 4 wanted onions on her burrito, I told her she probably wouldn’t like them. But she insisted and I let her have them. She loved onions and orders them any time there’s an opportunity. Lesson learned: Let them try anything they want, even if you think they might hate it.

Another problem is that I see too many parents who think they’re being nice to their kids by not making them eat stuff they don’t want to eat. I think they remember all too well being made to sit at the table until they finished their liver, and don’t want that for their kids. So they won’t man up and be parents and make their kids at least try unfamiliar food. In my house, you have to try a bite of everything that’s on your plate whether you like it or not. My youngest son always claims to hate scalloped potatoes until he tries a bite. Then he remembers he actually likes it and will eat it.

Now, of course, there are kids who have special needs or allergies that prevent them from being able to eat everything. And there are people who are just picky eaters, no matter what you try. My brother, who I would not classify as a picky eater, absolutely despises beans. This is the guy who will eat Rocky Mountain Oysters without a thought. But last Sunday at my mom’s, we had ham and beans and he just made himself a sandwich. Beans are just not his thing, and that’s okay.

So, let’s pull all this advice into a nice, neat list for the tl;dr crowd, shall we?

How to avoid creating a picky eater:

• Cook a variety of fresh, whole foods. Can’t cook worth a darn? Grab some recipes and start cooking anyway.
• Cook these foods in different ways. Remember, just because someone hates a certain food one way, doesn’t mean they’d hate it in another way.
• Avoid fast food and takeout. They just don’t serve a variety of foods. That’s not to say you can never go to these places, just don’t make that the majority of what you’re serving.
• Don’t base what your kids will like on what you like. Believe me, you’ll be surprised.
• Make your kids at least try it, and not just once. Over time, tastes change. If you get your kids in the habit of at least trying everything, eventually they will start liking new stuff.
• Finally, take into account your family’s likes and dislikes, but don’t cater to their every whim. Sure, the kids might love pizza and burgers and chicken nuggets best, but that doesn’t mean you have to serve it for every meal. If they HATE what’s for dinner and you don’t want them to starve, there’s always PB&J. (Unless they have a peanut allergy. Then there’s always J.)

Always do your best to keep from creating a picky eater. The future spouses of your children will thank you for it.

Then and Now, Some Encouragement

Heather says:

I stumbled across this little quote while browsing through The Project Gutenberg.  It’s from The Easiest Way in Housekeeping and Cooking by Helen Campbell:

Every science is learned but domestic science. The schools ignore it; and, indeed, in the rush toward an early graduation, there is small room for it.

“She can learn at home,” say the mothers. “She will take to it when her time comes, just as a duck takes to water,” add the fathers; and the matter is thus dismissed as settled.

In the mean time the “she” referred to—the average daughter of average parents in both city and country—neither “learns at home,” nor “takes to it naturally,” save in exceptional cases; and the reason for this is found in the love, which, like much of the love given, is really only a higher form of selfishness. The busy mother of a family, who has fought her own way to fairly successful administration, longs to spare her daughters the petty cares, the anxious planning, that have helped to eat out her own youth; and so the young girl enters married life with a vague sense of the dinners that must be, and a general belief that somehow or other they come of themselves. And so with all household labor. That to perform it successfully and skillfully, demands not only training, but the best powers one can bring to bear upon its accomplishment, seldom enters the mind; and the student, who has ended her course of chemistry or physiology enthusiastically, never dreams of applying either to every-day life.

Take heart, Home Eccers, ours is not the first generation to struggle with the age old question “What’s for dinner?”  This book was first written in 1880 and revised in 1893. So the next time you find yourself staring blankly into the pantry trying to figure out what to feed the family, know you do not stand alone.

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