My 10-Year-Old Has a Delusion About What She’s Going to Be When She Grows Up. I Need to Break the Bad News.

Care and Feeding I’ve heard enough. Photo illustration by Slate. Photos by Alen-D/iStock/Getty Images Plus and Olga Yastremska/Getty Images Plus. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here. Dear Care and Feeding, My husband and I have a 7-year-old son and a 10-year-old daughter, “Janessa.” Janessa is convinced she is going to be the biggest singing sensation on the planet. I am a vocal coach, and I can say from a professional standpoint that Janessa is mediocre at best. I’ve tried working with her to help her improve, but sadly, she’s one of those who simply does not possess musical talent. Janessa has been after her dad and me to get her some “real” lessons (apparently my judgment counts for nothing). I do not want to waste the money having her pursue the impossible. Can you suggest a good way to let her down easily? —Musical Mess Dear Mess, No, I cannot (or rather, I will not). I’m not a professional vocal coach, it’s true, but I’ve heard with my own ears a 10-year-old who wasn’t a good singer turn into one by 11 and then, with voice lessons starting at 12, begin to show signs of being a great singer, whose excellent voice teacher urged her to pursue a career in opera. Will your 10-year-old ever sing well? Who knows. Will she be the biggest singing sensation on the planet? Probably not. (The odds are small for anyone, even child voice prodigies, even extraordinary adult singers.) But lots of children have this dream at 10. Others have the fantasy that they’ll be basketball, baseball, football (or fútbol) stars, movie stars, or prima ballerinas when they grow up. Why discourage her from dreaming? Children are supposed to dream. Dreaming is where it starts. (If I hadn’t dreamed of being an “author” from age 7 on, I never would have written a damn thing. If my parents had scoffed at my ambition, I might have given up early.) The point is: Your job is to support and nurture your child, not tell her what she can’t do, isn’t good at, or shouldn’t waste her time on, especially when you position yourself as the expert in the subject of her interest. (And your taking her request for voice lessons from someone other than you as a personal insult makes matters worse.) This is not to say that you should spring for expensive voice lessons if that isn’t in your budget. And even though I’ve heard it said that children can start voice lessons as young as 6 or 8, that is not what experts have told me is optimal when teaching voice specifically to children. Every good voice teacher and children’s choir director I know would give you the following advice: Start by enrolling her in a good choir—one that’s fun and that teaches vocal skills. You (and she) will learn soon enough just how dedicated she is to learning to sing. And even if she isn’t dedicated in the least—and even if, like nearly all of us, she doesn’t grow up to be a professional singer (much less a “singing sensation”)—she will learn skills that will enhance her life; she will gain a community of other young singers; and she will get the chance, at every rehearsal and practice at home, to sing—with purpose! Singing is one of the great joys of life, and singing with others has been documented to improve health and well-being. (If she says no to this idea, give her time to think about it. Tell her a choir is the only thing on offer just now, both for financial reasons and because her voice isn’t yet fully developed enough for professional one-on-one voice training. If she thinks about it and still says no, she’s not interested, don’t be mean about it. Just tell her to let you know if she changes her mind.) Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Care and Feeding, My daughter “Vicky” is 20 and takes after my side of the family in the small boob department, a fact that has been a sore point for her since middle school. Yesterday, she announced that she will be going in for a breast augmentation next week … paid for courtesy of my sister as an early 21st birthday gift! I have always tried to emphasize to both my daughters (I have a 15-year-old as well) that their bodies are fine the way they are. Now I am worried this will send the wrong message to my younger daughter. Vicky claims this is for her and that she’s old enough to make her own decisions. My husband agrees with her and says I need to respect her choice. When I confronted my sister, she said the same. How can I convince Vicky she’s making a terrible mistake? —Boob Blowup Dear Blowup, Your husband and sister are right. And your daughter is over 18, so she’s old enough to make medical decisions without your consent (although not for some procedures, like silicone implants, for which the age of consent is 22). You say you did your best to teach your daughters to appreciate and enjoy their bodies for what they are—good for you. But Vicky does not appreciate or enjoy being small-breasted. Don’t waste your breath and risk ruining your relationship with her. As to the message Vicky’s breast augmentation sends to your younger daughter: She is getting all kinds of messages, all the time. Demanding that her older sister live her life in a way that serves as a role model for her is a fool’s errand. Ever Gotten a Call From Human Resources? Laura Helmuth and Doree Shafrir want to hear about it—and help you navigate your problems at work. Does your colleague constantly bug you after hours? Has an ill-advised work romance gone awry? Ask us your question here! Dear Care and Feeding, My brother “Matthew” and his wife have an 11-month-old son, “Gio,” whom I watch three days a week while they both work so they can save on child care. The problem is that instead of picking Gio up once they get off work, they will run errands or catch dinner out and then come get him, often after 8 p.m. I get that they’re strapped for time, but I have two kids who are 5 and 7, and it’s exhausting having to take care of them plus a baby, since my husband is an emergency room doctor who works crazy hours. Should I give them a chance to mend their ways, or is it time to tell them they will have to make other arrangements? —Overwhelmed Dear Overwhelmed, By “give them a chance to mend their ways,” do you mean tell them that it’s too much for you to care for Gio for so many hours, that you’d be happy to keep sitting for him for free until they’re finished with their workdays, but that from now on one of them needs to pick him up as soon as work is over? If so, then of course you should give them a chance. I cannot for the life of me imagine why you didn’t tell them this after the first—or, OK, the second—time they did this. Do it now. If they—unfairly, bizarrely—get mad at you about it, so be it. But my guess is that since you haven’t drawn this boundary, they blithely assume you’re fine with what they’re doing. Stand up for yourself! —Michelle More Advice From Slate I (28F) have one daughter (4F) whom my husband and I have decided to homeschool. This was for several reasons: the public schools in our area aren’t great, we think that homeschooling will benefit her better in the long run, etc. My friends and family have been very supportive of our choice, but none of them homeschool. I chose to find a homeschooling group because I wanted to be able to talk to parents who were going through what I was experiencing. I expected that there would be some trial and error, but it’s been…rough, to say the least… Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Family Kids Parenting