My Mom Just Dropped a Bomb About What She “Expects” of Me in Our Family. I’m Shocked.

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 am 25 years old and my parents divorced when I was 7. When I was in middle school, my mom started dating again and met “Chris.” It was nice seeing her so happy but very quickly things took a turn. Chris became her top priority and nothing else seemed to matter to her. She backed off on all the things she and I used to do together and even stopped attending my volleyball games because she was always busy with Chris. Then he moved in with us and I began to feel like an outsider in my own home since they acted as if I was intruding. I began to suspect they wished it was just the two of them. I moved out during the summer after I graduated from high school.

When my mom announced that she was pregnant, I did my best to seem happy and excited for her. But I felt resentful. (I did recognize that I was being petty and I made sure to hide my feelings.) Their child, who will turn 4 in January, has significant development issues. I’m not sure of his exact diagnosis, but he has minimal speech ability, does not walk, and is not toilet-trained. All of my mom and Chris’ resources go toward the care of my half-brother.

Over Thanksgiving, my mom said I should start coming to their doctors’ appointments so that I could understand my half-brother’s needs better and be “prepared.” I asked what she meant and she said, “Well, someday Chris and I aren’t going to be able to care for him on our own, so you will have to step up.” It turned into a big blow-up when I told her that I had no intention of being my half-brother’s caregiver. My mom accused me of being jealous and cold-hearted, and of “punishing” her for getting married and having a new baby. I have my own chronic health issues, which my mom knows vaguely about. I have also chosen to be child-free because I don’t want the responsibility of caring for a child. Apparently, this makes me “self-centered.” My mom strongly implied that any support, financial or otherwise, that she and Chris would offer me in the future would be contingent upon me agreeing to help with my half-brother. I half want to just cut them all off but that feels drastic. I feel for my half-brother because none of this is his fault, but the thought of signing up to be his caregiver fills me with dread.

—Selfish Older Daughter

Dear Older Daughter,

Leaving aside for a moment the complicated backstory—your mother’s emotional abandonment of you, your longtime bottled-up resentment and grief, your own health concerns, and decisions you have made about your future—you are not your brother’s keeper. Your mother is wrong for assuming that you’ll step in as caregiver once she and her husband can’t manage it, and she is wronger still in threatening and trying to manipulate you. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” is all the answer this “request” requires. She and Chris will have to make other plans.

Even if things had been otherwise—if your mother had been the loving, engaged mom you needed in your teens; if she hadn’t chosen Chris “over” you; if your brother were the child of your mother and father; if you didn’t carry with you this burden of pain and anger—your mom would still be wrong, expecting you to take this on. Do some siblings of people with disabilities this profound take on this responsibility? Sure. But the choice to do so needs to be theirs. If the circumstances in this case were different, and you had the resources, you might make that choice, out of love and a willingness to make great sacrifices for your brother’s sake—or you might be in a position to sit down with your mom and Chris and together work out an arrangement that makes sense for their son’s future care. But what your mother is demanding is unreasonable. And if she is implying that her support for you is contingent on your giving in to her demands, I think you should nudge that implication into the light. Tell her and Chris that you don’t expect any financial help from them, that you’re an adult who takes care of herself. And be that adult. If your mom’s emotional support is contingent on your promise to be your brother’s caregiver, then you never had it in the first place. Should you cut ties? You say that feels “drastic,” which suggests that there is something in your relationship with your mother that matters to you. If you don’t want to cut ties, don’t. But don’t allow your mother to continue to browbeat or manipulate you. You aren’t selfish. She is.

Submit your questions about parenting and family life here. It’s anonymous! (Questions may be edited for publication.)

Dear Care and Feeding,

My spouse and I have been together for over a decade and have a precocious preschool-aged daughter we both adore. Unfortunately, our marriage began to fracture following her birth due to a serious imbalance of labor at home. After two years of struggle, I talked my spouse into marriage counseling, which we attended weekly for more than two years. However, things recently reached critical mass and we have decided to divorce.

How do we break this news to our child? We are carrying on life as usual while we work to figure out plans and settlements. We were always diligent about not fighting in front of her, so it’s not as though we can say, “You know how Mommy and Daddy used to fight about XYZ?” I know children are more intuitive than we realize, but I am afraid this will news will throw her for a loop because we have been so careful about hiding our strife. I am tempted to frame it as, “Mommy and Daddy have not been very good friends to each other and have decided that we will be able to be better friends—and a better mommy and daddy to you—if we are living in different homes.” Am I on the right track or is there a better way of introducing this radical shift to our sweet girl?

—Stepford Family

Dear Stepford,

Actually, I like your idea. It’s as good as any other explanation you can give a child this age. Just be prepared for her follow-up questions. She will want to know in what ways you haven’t been good friends to each other (etc.). You and your spouse will have to be on the same page, ready to answer her questions in a way that doesn’t throw the other under the bus. (If you can’t do that, then keep things even simpler. Just say: “Mommy and Daddy are going to live in separate houses from now on.”) Either way, make sure you say outright, before she has a chance to wonder, how she is going to be taken care of. And when she asks questions, both of you should offer short, uncomplicated answers. You can anticipate some of these questions, of course. Which one of you will be moving out? Where will she live? How often will she see each of you? What exactly will change about her life and what will stay the same? If there’s a family pet, whose home will it live in? And so on.

But the bottom line, I’m afraid, is that no matter what you say and how you say it, this news is going to upset her enormously. How could it not? It’s unrealistic to imagine that there are any magic words that will keep this from being a crisis for her. And so, more important than what you say in this first conversation (because just one won’t do the trick; you’re going to need to have multiple short conversations), is what you do after the news is out. She will need stability, reassurance, consistency—normality. Her day-to-day life needs to be predictable so that she feels secure and safe. That’s your top priority.

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Dear Care and Feeding,

My husband and I have 3-year-old fraternal twin boys and we’re officially at the nothing-is-safe stage. Our house is as toddlerproofed as we can get it (is toddlerproof even truly possible?) but they still manage to get into stuff they shouldn’t. They pull my makeup pallets out of the bathroom drawers and turn them to powder and try to play soccer with priceless heirlooms. Since my husband is a stay-at-home dad, he’s the one managing most of the chaos, but he’s far more laid back than I am when it comes to certain things being turned into toys. The other day, after I realized they’d used my really expensive shampoo as finger paint, I blew my stack. My husband couldn’t understand why I was so upset. “It’s just shampoo.” No, it’s shockingly expensive, color-care shampoo that I can get only from my hairdresser. My husband says, “OK, but you can always buy more, right?” As the only girl in the house, I know I’m outnumbered, but that doesn’t mean my stuff should be disrespected.

—Is Nothing Sacred?

Dear Sacred,

For godsakes, put these things out of reach. While your kids are still toddlers, priceless heirlooms should be locked away. Your expensive shampoo should be kept in a cabinet they can’t reach. (Yes, I know that means you’ll have to get it out every time you use it, then put it back, but surely that inconvenience is worth it? It’s only temporary, after all. They won’t be toddlers forever.) But I don’t think this is the point of your letter. Because I can’t imagine you don’t know that it’s absurd to leave expensive things that are important to you in reach of 3-year-olds. I think you’re mad that your husband isn’t taking your complaints—or you—seriously. And I think your husband is irritated that he’s the one who’s at home all day and you’re criticizing his parenting. “You can always buy more” sounds to me like it might be a passive-aggressive remark about your being the wage-earner in the family, which maybe he’s not as comfortable with as you think. In any case, this dispute isn’t about stuff. It’s about your relationship. Maybe it’s time for both of you to stop pretending it isn’t. (And it’s way past time to properly childproof your house, OK?)

Dear Care and Feeding,

I was born and raised in New England but moved to the Pacific Northwest after college. Because I was recently laid off from my job, then received a very good job offer from a company near where my dad lives, and taking into consideration my dad’s declining health, it has become apparent to me that I need to move back to my hometown. I’ve even found a great (affordable!) house not far from my dad’s house. My issue is that I’m a single mother of two kids: 9-year-old, Will, and 8-year-old, Holly.

Holly has always been super-extroverted and loves adventure. She’s sad about moving away from her friends, but will make new friends easily and is really looking forward to this new chapter in our lives. Will, on the other hand, is very shy and introverted. He has a hard time making friends and also generally struggles with change. He hasn’t been bullied in school, but he has been in other settings and is afraid of that happening again in a new school and new neighborhood. He is very worried about moving, making new friends, and starting at a different school halfway through the year and having to catch up.

We’re moving during winter break. Our new house is a few minutes away from my dad, whom my kids adore. It’s more spacious than our current home (Will and Holly will no longer need to share a room) and is in a very nice location (walking distance to the town center, with easy access to a park, a library, shops, restaurants, and doctors). I hate to move halfway through the school year, but we don’t really have a choice. I had my dad and Will talk on the phone so that Will could ask him questions about life there, but they got wildly off-topic—it didn’t help at all. My dad thinks I should just bribe Will: buy a new gaming console for the new house, get him and his sister tickets to a game with my dad, buy him anything else he’s been asking for (like a new bike and prescription sunglasses) and associate these gifts with the new house. While I’m sure that would make him feel a bit better, buying all that stuff while we’re making an expensive move seems out of reach (and it doesn’t help solve the problem of Will’s feeling fundamentally uncomfortable with the move). I’ve tried to get him involved in some of the planning and asked him what he wants his new bedroom to look like, but these tactics haven’t helped. How can I make this a nicer transition for him (and for that matter, for Holly)?

—Packing

Dear Packing,

Do you mind if I dig a little under the surface of your letter before I attempt to answer the question you pose at its end? I find myself wondering about your decision to move, especially in the middle of the school year. You say you don’t have a choice, and that may well be true, but what I’m curious about is whether you looked for another job where you and your kids live now before you applied for a job in your hometown, and whether you’ve been wanting to move “home” for some time, and this layoff gave you the chance to do just that. I’m not suggesting that there’s anything wrong with wanting to return to the place you grew up, or to be near your father (in fact, I’m delighted for him, I’m glad you’re thinking ahead about his needs, and I’m completely sympathetic to your feeling the need to be near family, particularly if you’re raising these kids without any help). But I think if you’re going to help Will make peace with what feels to him like a catastrophe (I remember how catastrophic it felt to me every time my parents decided to move—and I was only changing neighborhoods, not moving across the country!), the first step is acknowledging, both to yourself and to your kids, why you’re making this move.

But maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps I’m misreading your letter and you hate the idea of moving, tried hard to find another job where you live so you wouldn’t have to uproot your kids, and are just trying to make the best of it. If so, be honest with yourself—and your children—about that.     Honesty is essential here (there, and everywhere). I guarantee that if you’re painting this move as something you have no choice about and it is a choice you’re making for the sake of your own happiness, your sensitive, “introverted” 9-year-old can smell a rat. Likewise if you’re deeply distressed about this move and are pretending to be cheerful. Tell your kids the truth, whatever it is. (Make sure you know the truth.) No child this age wants to move unless their current situation is untenable, which it isn’t for either of your children. Your daughter is putting on a brave face (my guess is that she’s long been the kid you could count on to roll with the punches—that she’s taken on this role because she knows Will can’t), and even if Holly will have an easier time with this move than her brother will, that doesn’t mean it will be easy.

So I’d start with truth, then acknowledging how hard the move will be on both kids, and asking them what they need by way of support. They may not know yet, but that’s OK. There are plenty of things you can do for them that they wouldn’t think to ask for. (Forget bribes—that’s not a good long-term plan because it sidesteps their humanity in favor of just getting them to do what you want them to do.) Keep their routines as steady and consistent as possible. Give them a video tour of the neighborhood and the school they’ll be going to, as well as the house you’ve chosen (enlist your father or others to help make this happen). If possible, arrange a Zoom meeting for each of them with their new teachers. Facilitate their ability to stay in touch with friends. Involve them in as many decisions as possible. It’s too late to have them look at potential houses and help you choose one, but you can make sure they have plenty of say in other decisions—what colors the walls of the new house will be painted, what comes with you and what will be left behind in the move, what new things need to be purchased. Let Will, as the older one, pick which room he wants, and give him complete control, not just input, over what goes in it and how it will be arranged (likewise Holly, for her room). You might consider bringing a new pet into the mix right after the move, if this is something they’d like. But most of all, keep your own expectations in check. Let them know it’s OK to be sad or worried. Be gentle, be patient, be kind, empathize with them, and spend as much time with them as you possibly can.

—Michelle

We have a fourth grader who is generally an easy kid, well-behaved, and really fun. She does, however, like to sneak snacks. She is given a snack, like apple slices and peanut butter, after school and is allowed to watch TV for a little while. My husband and I are home all the time, but for us to notice that she’s grabbing a sleeve of cookies or extra granola bars, we would have to be in the kitchen, and we’re not always there.