I Really, Really Disagree With My Kid’s Decisions About My Grandson’s Health. I’m About to Do Something About It.

It’s Advice Week! In On Second Thought, we’ll revisit questions from the archives and dig into how much has changed since Slate began giving advice in 1997—and how much hasn’t. Read all stories here.

For today’s edition, we dug through Slate’s archives and unearthed questions sent to Prudie from the 2010s. We’ve asked today’s columnists to weigh in with modern-day sensibilities.

On March 10, 2015, “Should I Secretly Vaccinate?” wrote to Dear Prudence:

My son and daughter-in-law are well-educated, responsible people. But once they had their first child (my now-18-month-old darling grandson), they did their own “research” and decided not to vaccinate him for fear of “pumping poison into his body” and “risking autism.” My DIL has particularly strong views about this, and we’ve had many vocal arguments over the issue. Finally she decided she didn’t want to fight me anymore, and the last time I brought this up she refused to bring my grandson to see me for several weeks. I know that due to herd immunity the chances of his catching a serious illness are not high, but I am still appalled he’s exposed to risks unnecessarily. I am about to look after him for five days while his parents go on a trip and I am thinking I will just take him to the doctor myself and get him immunized.

At the time, Prudence replied:

I marvel with distress that in 2015 we are fighting the vaccination wars. It is deeply disturbing that people who should be able to weigh discredited so-called studies instead believe garbage, and so are willing to endanger their children and others. I sincerely hope this madness burns itself out before a lot more people get hurt. You’re right that herd immunity should protect your grandson, but that is fading as large numbers of people refuse to vaccinate. The only solution seems to be for government to toughen the vaccination laws and close the loopholes that allow people to opt out for philosophical and so-called religious reasons. The laws need to make clear: no shot, no school. In the meantime, however, you cannot take your grandson to be vaccinated. For one thing, you don’t have the standing to do this. For another, if it came out that you did, that would likely effectively end your relationship with your grandson. It’s just not worth it. Let’s hope this little boy does not get whooping cough, or measles or any of the other awful childhood diseases that medical science effectively wiped out, and misinformed parents are bringing back.

Care and Feeding’s advice from the future:

Oooooof. Well, this certainly hasn’t gotten any better since 2015. Indeed, now we’ve got a whole new disease against which crackpots can refuse to vaccinate their children, thus (among many other dire consequences) increasing the chance of exposing their older, at-risk relatives to danger! And even though public trust in childhood vaccines has improved in the wake of COVID, more people now believe that “parents’ rights” should trump school vaccine requirements.

I have racked my brain for like half an hour to try to find a way to advise this letter-writer to whisk away that toddler and get someone to stick a bunch of needles in him. I can’t get there, alas, as morally justifiable as I think it would be. (Talk about a victimless crime! This is a crime that literally could save the victim’s life.) But Prudie is correct that the letter-writer risks never seeing this grandchild again if they get caught.

What a drag, though. If you are this grandparent, and despite Prudie’s advice just went and did the damn thing anyway, please write to me and let me know. I will buy you a beer.

On July 14, 2011, “Badgered” asked:
My little sister has a beautiful 18-month-old boy. Four times since his birth, she has entered him in “most beautiful baby” photo contests. During these contests family members receive email and Facebook reminders every day. Sometimes the competitions are open for a month or longer. I told her after the second contest that I do not want to be asked to vote anymore. I explained that I love my nephew but am uncomfortable with a competition where children are judged on appearance. I also told her that the contest rules allow these companies to use her child’s image for free in any way they like. She has ignored all this and once again started with the email reminders. I feel harassed. Am I justified in my disdain?

At the time, Prudence replied:

We are constantly hearing about social trends (fast food, texting, gay marriage) that supposedly have the power to destroy the American family. But with the “most beautiful baby” contest I think your sister has actually found one that will turn evolution on its head and make people come to loathe their youngest and cutest family members. Anyone receiving such daily reminders would be tempted to pour the contents of a sippy cup on the parent responsible for this pestering. Tell your sister you understand she gets a kick out of these contests (leave out the moralizing), but the reminders are clogging your inbox and you’d appreciate if she could she take you off the list. If she doesn’t, just keep hitting “delete” and try to remember this is not your nephew’s fault.

Care and Feeding’s advice from the future:

This is really funny. Almost quaint, really, when the Facebook updates I most often receive from relatives are spam posts from bots reading “I can’t believe she’s gone I’m miss you RIP 😭😭.” I would almost—almost!—welcome messages from a sibling urging me to vote for their child in a Most Beautiful Baby contest, if those messages also included beautiful photos of their baby.

Prudie’s advice is correct. Explaining to the sister why these contests are objectionable will get the letter-writer nowhere, other than that the sister will be angry with them. But you’re within your rights to ask even a close relative to stop sending you unnecessary messages! And they’re within their rights to ignore you, so keep that delete finger limber. Or quit Facebook!

On July 7, 2011, “Who’s on the Cake?” asked:
I am pleased New York is legalizing gay marriage. I have supported gay rights for years and am proud that we are striving for a more equal America. Last night my family was watching a movie and there was a wedding scene. My 3-year-old son asked, “Who’s getting married?” It occurred to me that I’m not sure what to say to him about a man marrying a man or a woman marrying a woman. I want my son to understand the world in which we live, but I think it could be too confusing an issue to introduce the new paradigm.

At the time, Prudence replied:

This came up for me a few years ago when my favorite section of the Sunday New York Times, the wedding announcements, started carrying same-sex weddings. I had the paper open on the dining room table and my then-elementary-school-aged daughter walked by and her eye was caught by a photo of two men. She pointed and said, “Mom, what’s this one?” It was easy to explain to her that while most weddings are between a man and a woman, sometimes they’re between two men or two women. She realized she already knew something about this, since she’d gone to school with kids who had two dads or two moms. What she’d never seen evidence of before was a same-sex wedding. But absorbing this “new paradigm” took only a few questions and a few minutes. Your son is just 3 years old, so there’s no need to explain to him the fine points of the legalization of gay marriage. In the coming years he’ll see that families don’t always consist of a father and mother, because many of his classmates will have single parents, and a few will have same-sex parents. Because you are perfectly comfortable with this fact, you’ll be able to follow his lead and answer what questions he has. And if he seems anxious about this, it may just be that he wants reassurance that his family is going to remain the way it already is.

Care and Feeding’s advice from the future:

Good answer, Prudie. Kids remain extremely skilled—better than adults, maybe!—at learning and accepting new information. I vividly remember my then-kindergarten-aged daughter sitting in the back seat of the car with a friend, and them discussing with keen interest and total approval the fact that sometimes men marry men or women marry women, and then her friend saying, with serene confidence, “That’s called being jay.”

On Sept. 23, 2010, “Daddy’s Gone” asked:

Last year, my husband’s company went out of business. After 10 months of unemployment, he finally has a new job, and it’s everything we hoped for, with one exception: The hours are so long that my husband can’t see our 16-month-old son. It’s a “techie” company where the employees roll into the office around 10 a.m. and leave around 8 p.m. My husband sometimes has to work until 10 p.m. or later. He has tried getting into work at 8 a.m. and leaving at 6 p.m. But when he arrives, all the lights are off, and when he leaves, his co-workers hassle him about taking off early. After having Daddy around all day for the past 10 months, his sudden absence is really hard on our son, who’s been mostly hysterical since my husband took this job. I want my husband to work more regular hours, so he can at least see our son every day—I just can’t keep him up after 8 p.m. However, my husband doesn’t want to make waves at this new job. How do we solve this?

At the time, Prudence replied:

Sure, it was fun for your son to have Mommy and Daddy to himself for almost a year, but all of you have to accept that there are adjustments to be made now that Daddy has something called a job. And not only is it a job; it’s a great job. So please stop undermining your husband’s—your whole family’s—good fortune by insisting he work hours that will put him at odds with the company’s culture. Maybe after your husband has proved his worth, he can tweak his work schedule, but now is not that time. The obvious, happy solution here is that if your husband is rolling into the office at 10 a.m., that should give him a nice block of time in the morning to spend with your son. They surely could have almost an hour together, and the advantage of this is that your son will be fresh and alert, not whiny and ready for bed. Your son misses his father, but perhaps part of his hysteria comes from picking up on your distress at having dinner alone every night. Maybe you should get together with friends with young children one or two nights a week for a communal dinner. Or you can swap babysitting with a friend so you can take a needed break and go to a movie or the gym. When you feel yourself resenting your husband’s hours, look around at all the desperate out-of-work people and be glad your 10-month idyll has come to an end.

Care and Feeding’s advice from the future:

This letter sure comes from the past—a past before COVID transformed office culture in many white-collar jobs. I cringe a little reading Prudie scolding this mom for “undermining” her husband’s job in a work environment that seems—while not uncommon, I understand, for Silicon Valley startups—pretty rigid and family-unfriendly.

And yet, even in the past, there were other ways to handle such situations. In 2010, I was unemployed—er, freelancing—with a young child. A year later, Slate offered me a job, and I remember quite vividly the debates I had, very early on, with my managers about my desire to be out of the office in time to make and eat dinner with my family. I certainly didn’t think it was my obligation to shut up and accept the expectation among Slate editors that everyone stays in the office until 6:30. I made my case that I could start my day early, leave early, and work from home in the evening, and still get all my work done just fine. Twelve years later, I’m still here.

Now, Slate is an unusual workplace, in that it institutionally prizes debate and dissent—and therefore I felt more empowered, from the get-go, to argue with the bosses than many new employees might feel. But 2024 employees have much more leverage on these issues than they used to, thanks to historically low unemployment and, happily, a greater recognition—even among “techie” companies—of the value of fostering work-life balance.

I think what most rubbed me the wrong way about Prudie’s response was the intimation that this mother was undercutting the family’s future security by worrying about their present happiness. I don’t at all begrudge a mother in this situation wishing her husband would make some waves and advocate for himself. I would, in fact, argue that a husband facing this problem owes it to his family to take action. And he owes it to other parents at the company, fathers and mothers both, to make a strong case for a more flexible schedule. His company ought to rethink an office culture that has employees hassling their co-workers for the crime of wanting to see their children before they go to bed. If they refuse, it’s time for him to start looking for another job—and this time, to make his work/life requirements clear from the beginning.

—Dan