My millennial daughter doesn’t trust me with her kids – she’s so anxious

When our own children were young, we made the decisions. We decided what they ate, when they went to bed, how much television they watched, when they were old enough to walk to school alone and how firmly they should be told no. Then those children grow up and have children of their own. Suddenly, some grandparents discover that decades of parenting experience don’t count for much. They may be loved, valued and wanted in their grandchildren’s lives, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re trusted to look after them. Sometimes the disagreement is over something as trivial as having an ice cream. But the consequences of these disagreements can be devastating. Tom, 67, was looking after his twin grandchildren when they became unwell. They had high temperatures and one developed a rash. He tried repeatedly to contact their mother but couldn’t reach her. He had a decision to make: wait, or get the children checked? Tom took them to hospital. Shorts It turned out not to be anything serious. But his decision to seek medical help without their mother’s permission, he says, became part of a family rupture. Three years later, Tom and his wife are still not seeing their grandchildren. He misses them desperately, but still struggles to understand what he was supposed to have done differently. “What was I supposed to do? Sit there looking at a child with a temperature and a rash and wait for somebody to answer the phone?” Had he waited and one of the children turned out to be seriously ill, how could he have forgiven himself? And three years on, he believes the grandchildren are losing out too. A decision he made because he was frightened for their safety has cost them a relationship with two grandparents who loved being part of their lives. Most clashes between parents and grandparents are nowhere near as dramatic. But underneath them is often the same complaint: our judgement was good enough to raise you, so why isn’t it good enough for your children? Cathy, 68, has discovered that her idea of keeping a child safe is very different from her daughter’s. She and her partner have a small woodland where her 13-year-old grandson loves spending time. To Cathy, the wood is somewhere he can experience a little of the independence that children of her generation took for granted. She lets him wander around on his own. She has taught him how to light a fire safely and how to use a knife properly. He knows the boundaries of the wood and where to find her if he needs her. Cathy sees that as teaching him competence. But her daughter was horrified when she discovered quite how much freedom her son was being given. Why was a 13-year-old out of sight in a wood? Why was he being allowed near a fire? Why on Earth had somebody given him a knife? Cathy is unapologetic. “He’s 13, not three. If he can’t wander around a small wood on his own, when exactly is he going to be allowed to start trusting himself?” She worries that in trying to remove risk from his childhood, she is removing opportunities to become independent too. Children don’t magically acquire judgement at 18, Cathy argues. They develop it by being allowed to do things, make decisions and occasionally get things wrong. She fears her grandson is learning that the world is dangerous and that an adult should always be nearby to keep him safe. Cathy wants him to learn something different: that he can cope. The disagreements don’t stop once grandchildren are old enough to look after themselves. At 15, Carter had become fascinated by YouTube. He made videos, followed successful creators and talked about becoming a content creator himself. His grandfather, Guy, 63, an engineer who had spent his working life in a secure professional career, was unimpressed. Stop wasting your time, he told him. Concentrate on your GCSEs. Get some decent qualifications and think about a proper career. Carter’s parents were furious. They saw their son learning to film and edit, developing ideas, understanding an audience and becoming excited about creating something of his own. They wanted him encouraged, not told that his ambitions were ridiculous. Guy doesn’t regret saying it. He loves his grandson, but thinks somebody needs to inject a dose of realism. The chances of earning a living as an influencer are tiny, and he worries Carter is growing up surrounded by adults so concerned with supporting his dreams that nobody is prepared to tell him some dreams are unlikely to pay the bills. Was it really so terrible to tell a 15-year-old that? Guy has now been told to leave conversations about education and careers to Carter’s parents. Nobody doubts that Guy can keep his grandson physically safe. What they don’t trust is his influence. But Guy believes teenagers need adults who will challenge them, not just cheer them on. “I don’t think telling a child that everything they want to do is wonderful is preparing them for life.” Then there are grandparents who get into trouble simply because they refuse to follow the rules. Valerie, 70, regularly looked after her primary school-age granddaughter and loved their time together. But Valerie’s house operated differently. There might be ice cream before lunch. Television stayed on longer. Bedtime slipped at weekends. If her granddaughter wanted a biscuit, Valerie was inclined to give her one. “That’s what grandparents are for,” she would say. Her daughter didn’t agree. The occasional treat wasn’t the problem. It was Valerie’s repeated refusal to follow instructions. If her daughter said no sweets before dinner, why did Valerie think she could overrule her? If bedtime was 8pm, why should Valerie decide nine was fine? There were differences over discipline too. Valerie expected children to say “please” and “thank you”, sit properly at the table and sometimes do as they were told without everything becoming a negotiation. She thinks her daughter is too reluctant to say “no”. Her daughter thinks Valerie is unnecessarily strict. Eventually, Valerie was told that if she couldn’t respect the way her granddaughter was being brought up, she couldn’t look after her unsupervised. Valerie is furious. She had successfully raised children of her own. How had she suddenly become incapable of looking after one for an afternoon? And she worries about what her granddaughter is learning. “Sometimes children need to hear ‘no’. The rest of the world isn’t always going to negotiate with them until they’re happy.” Parents have the right to decide how their children are brought up. But these grandparents don’t want to raise their grandchildren. They’ve already raised their children. What they want is the freedom to have relationships with their grandchildren that aren’t governed by a list of instructions. And they believe the grandchildren are losing something too: the chance to take risks, hear uncomfortable opinions, discover that different homes have different rules and build relationships with adults who don’t behave exactly like mum and dad. Perhaps protecting children from every outdated opinion, forbidden biscuit and unnecessary risk makes for more consistent parenting. But if the price is grandparents who are too frightened to be themselves, or aren’t trusted to be alone with their grandchildren at all, it may make childhood poorer. Dr Denise Taylor is a chartered psychologist and author who writes about later life and exploring meaning beyond full-time work. Her latest book, ‘ThriveSpan: Walking Gently Into What Matters Now’ is out now.