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,
A couple of weeks ago, our next-door neighbor’s house caught on fire, and it was a four-alarm. No one was physically harmed, and the damage was limited to the neighbor’s house. We were outside with our 1½-year-old, and stayed outside with him for the next 30 minutes or so until the fire was under enough control that we felt safe bringing him inside. But our home was surrounded by firetrucks, ambulances, and police cars the entire time. Ever since, every time he sees one of these vehicles in real life (not as toys or in books)—and on a couple of occasions even 18-wheelers—he exhibits nervousness and discomfort. When he does, we reassure him that we are safe and that the firetrucks protected us. But it breaks our hearts to see him like this. Do we just have to give it time, or is there something else we should do?
—Traumatized by Trucks
Dear Traumatized,
I want to tell you that your son’s so young that giving it some time will likely do the trick, and that he’s unlikely to have a clear memory of the fire. I think there’s a good chance of this being the case! But I also believe that some children can and do retain traumatic memories even from very early childhood—as well as feelings and triggers, even if not always the clearest memories.
It’s only been a couple of weeks, so for now I think you can continue to monitor your son’s behavior, talk with him about this as you’re able, and try to reassure him that you’re all safe. If he continues to be very anxious about trucks/cars with sirens, and especially if you find that this really begins to interfere with how comfortable he seems out in the world, I think you could talk with your pediatrician about what happened and ask for any advice or suggestions they might have. In time, depending on whether this persists, you could also try consulting a therapist who has experience helping younger children process traumatic events, perhaps through art or play—they might have suggestions as to how you can talk with and try to help your son work through this, even if he’s still on the young side for therapy himself. If it comes to that, your pediatrician may also have therapist recommendations, so in any case that’s where I would start if this doesn’t resolve soon.
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From this week’s letter, “My Parents Expect Us to Use All the Baby Stuff They’ve Saved From My Childhood:” “My parents won’t understand why buying a crib that was used last year is different from using a crib that’s sat in a basement since the ‘80s.”
Dear Care and Feeding,
My husband and I grew up in a small(ish) town—it was fairly middle-income, but about an hour and a half away from the nearest international airport. We moved away, got educated, got fancy jobs, etc. before choosing to move home when our oldest was about 8, so that we could raise our kids with family support. I also wanted our children to feel close to their cousins and grandparents.
Well, fast-forward eight years, and we’re starting to really regret it. We have three kids—the oldest is 16—and our kids are, quite honestly, not having a good time in this town. We’re a pretty liberal family, and the town is overwhelmingly conservative. Everywhere my kids go, they’re in the “out-group”—they wear masks, have ally buttons on their backpacks, and are part of a religious minority that’s pretty visible based on clothing. School is tough, as they get bullied for speaking up in history/government classes; even sports aren’t a source of escape (coaches go on rants about “the illegals” and refuse to follow any pandemic precautions). I don’t think we are better than anyone else. But we just have extremely different beliefs and are constantly getting called out for it.
I always thought my kids would be fine as long as they had a few close friends, good family ties, and a loving/supportive environment at home—but honestly, even though all those pieces are in place, they still feel like perpetual outsiders. It’s really starting to affect the self-confidence of the oldest, in particular. We sent her to an academic summer camp for a few weeks and she came back thrilled with the like-minded kids she was around—only to kind of fold in on herself a few weeks into the new school year, when she was again bullied for being “weird.”
My husband and I have started to discuss moving to the big city about a hundred miles away. We have no family ties there, and living will be significantly more expensive. But our kids would be so much happier. I’m sick of constantly fighting political battles in every sphere of life. Would it be crazy for us to pick up and move? Or should we just wait it out, arm our kids with self-confidence to the extent we can, and hope they’ll just be happier in college? My extended family would obviously be extremely upset if we move, and I can’t pretend this isn’t weighing on me. What say you?
—Mom in the Middle of Nowhere
Dear Mom in the Middle,
I definitely don’t think kids need to be raised in a city, or grow up in a solid-blue county, or be 100 percent surrounded by people who share every single one of their values, in order to have a good childhood. But having been that kid who never felt comfortable growing up in an insular community, I feel compelled to say that when you are young, it’s kind of a bummer to constantly tell yourself to just hang in there until your childhood is over. I’m sure it’s tough for your children to literally feel like the only ones, to hear terrible opinions and comments all the time, and to be bullied on top of everything—it makes sense that they’re struggling. If I were you, I’d also feel uneasy about them being constantly surrounded by peers and coaches and teachers who refuse to follow basic pandemic safety measures.
I understand worrying about how your family will react if you decide to move. But where you and your husband raise your family is ultimately a decision for the two of you, not something the whole extended family gets to debate. And it’s not like you’re weighing a move across the country—100 miles isn’t a long road trip. Your relatives can still be a huge part of your kids’ lives.
Your children might well be OK, of course, even if you stay put. The real question, I suppose, is whether they could be better than just “OK” somewhere else—if they might actually grow up feeling more confident and comfortable and affirmed. Assuming a move even feels possible in your situation, I think it makes sense to at least consider whether your family might be better off in the closest city. Have you talked about the possibility of moving with your children? You might not want to mention it unless you’re sure that you’re open to it, but I’m sure all of them will have their own feelings and opinions about it. Since you’re primarily considering this move because you think it might be better for them, you should probably hear what they have to say about the idea if you’re serious about it.
I don’t think this is a question with a clear right or wrong answer. But you asked if you should even be considering this move, and I do think it’s fine to consider it. It would be one thing if your kids were thriving where you are, despite being in the minority—but you say that they’re not. Given that, I understand why moving is an appealing idea to you, and if I were in your place, I’d probably be thinking about it, too.
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Dear Care and Feeding,
My brilliant, sassy, beautiful, funny, and normally very laid-back sophomore got her first B (B-plus, but whatever). She is convinced that her chances of getting into a good college in a competitive program (not related to this subject) are now shot. No comment of mine (“one B or even two or three will not make a difference to your college app,” “if it does we will deal with it,” “look into what you can do better and move on,” “it is TOTALLY OK”) will sway her belief that her life is now ruined. I suspect that she feels worse because most of her friends got A’s, and if she had resubmitted an assignment (as she should have, but uncharacteristically blew it off), she would’ve pulled an A as well. Can you, as an expert author of this column that she and I read together, let us know what you think? Also, please state why she should believe you (her request, not mine).
—To B or Not to B
Dear To B or Not to B,
I am not an admissions officer, and I know the college application process gets increasingly Hunger Games–y by the year. But I’m confident that schools, highly competitive ones included, still look at a whole host of factors in addition to GPA. If your daughter keeps her grades high and her application is also strong in other areas, I don’t think that one B—sorry, B-plus—in a subject she doesn’t want to major in should kick her out of the running at most places. As for why she should believe me, I don’t suppose it would help to know that I also got a B in high school? Many of us did, and lived to tell the tale! I promise my prospects weren’t hurt by that one grade (my decision to become a writer? Debatable), and hers won’t be, either.
Dear Care and Feeding,
My 29-year-old daughter “Jen” was constantly a high achiever, attending excellent public schools before earning a scholarship to a top-tier university. She landed a great job out of college, earned a graduate degree, and now has a leadership role at a nonprofit whose mission she really loves. I thought all was well. She seemed happy enough—if somewhat overwhelmed by the problems of the world—and has her own apartment, a lovely boyfriend, and generally seemed to have it pretty together.
Over the past year, Jen has grown increasingly distressed over the “meaninglessness” in her life. She hates working at a high-stress 9-to-5 because it leaves her exhausted at the end of the day. She doesn’t have time or energy to pursue hobbies like reading, art, or hiking. She says she can’t bear to think of 40 more years spent working like this. She also says she regrets all the time she spent on the “treadmill of achievement” and wishes she could go back to school to become a therapist—something she has always kind of wanted to do—but can’t afford to take on more grad school debt. It pains me to hear her talk like this. It also triggers similar feelings for me—I, too, was on the treadmill of achievement my whole life, and I wanted to raise my daughters differently, but clearly I missed the mark. I will admit I also worry that she may be depressed, or that she’s having a midlife crisis (and goes back to grad school only to take on hundreds of thousands in debt). I know she’s seeing a therapist, but she’s been doing that for six years and hasn’t seen any improvement. What more can I do to help her? Is this just something that all twentysomethings go through? Should I sit back and let her figure this out for herself?
—Mom in Madison
Dear Mom in Madison,
I think you’re right to be concerned about depression, between Jen’s claim that her life is “meaningless” and her lack of energy for anything besides work. If she is depressed, leaving her current job won’t necessarily alleviate it, unless most of her depression stems from the job itself. While it’s good that she has a therapist, if she truly hasn’t seen any improvement in six years, it might well be time to look for a new one. I think she should speak to her doctor as well, if she hasn’t already talked with them about her depression.
As for a potential career change, of course it’s very normal to tire of what you do or decide to try something else. Plenty of people have second (and third, and fourth, etc.) careers, and the current mix of pandemic, crumbling American institutions, and the unfolding climate crisis has many people reconsidering their priorities and options. This is a decision Jen has to make for herself, but that doesn’t mean you can’t offer her emotional support. Be there to listen and ask questions (if she seems open to that) about what she thinks she wants, the pros and cons of switching career tracks or going back to school, etc. Let her know you’ll be there for her, no matter what—knowing she has that support could make it more possible for her to consider what she really wants. It could be that she honestly wants to change careers and doesn’t see a clear path forward in this particular moment; but it doesn’t mean there is no value in acknowledging that she does need something else, and actively planning and working toward a future in which it might feel more possible.
A final note: You mentioned that you feel badly about this in part because you worry that you’ve done something wrong, or perhaps not set the best example as a parent. I don’t know much about how you brought up your kids, of course, but this really doesn’t sound like something you could have caused just by working hard or having a successful career of your own. And it’s not as though you are done parenting—you have the chance, right now and going forward, to be there for Jen, to listen to her, and to support her in pursuing the kind of life she wants. I can tell that you want to do this for her, and I think that is and will be part of your parenting legacy, too.
—Nicole
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