Thanks for an overwhelming response to my post on the Empty Nester. Am glad to know we all feel it and are there for each other. If nothing else, just to listen.
Raising kids is only the warm-up act. Somewhere between turning 40 and figuring out collagens and serum, my life took an unexpected turn: I realised I am now parenting two generations at the same time.
My kids, teenagers equipped with Wi-Fi, self-confidence, and zero fear of back-answering and my parents; adults who have quietly, sneakily, and very strategically entered their second childhood.
I mean, no one definitely warned us that “empty nest” comes with a bonus level: the boomer nest that refuses to stay put. Raising kids prepared me for a lot of things: The negotiating. The tantrums. The mysterious disappearance of logic. The “I know better” attitude.
Little did I know, all this was just a training module for dealing with parents in their 70s and 80s. When I ask my kids how their day was, I get one-word replies.
When I ask my parents how their day was, I get elaborate stories that have no beginning, no end, and involves Maids to Modi to News channel to building watchman to spam messages to mobile screen blacking out++++
With kids, I’m worried they will make the wrong friends. With parents, I’m worried they will make too many friends; mostly strangers they meet in WhatsApp groups, Facebook groups, who instantly become “the known brethren.”
And don’t even get me started on independence. My kids want too much of it. My parents want too much… but selectively. Kids: “Mom, please don’t come with me, I can go alone.” Parents: “We are absolutely independent, but can you come with us to the doctor and also book the cab and also talk to our society secretary and also fill the banking form because these people ask too many silly questions?”
My children roll their eyes at me. My parents pretend they don’t hear me. Both tactics are suspiciously effective.
And then there’s technology. My kids treat technology like an extension of their body. They can binge-watch, video-call, edit a reel, submit homework, fight with friends and stalk celebrities. My parents, on the other hand, treat technology like it’s a wild animal that needs gentle coaxing and occasional shouting.
With kids, I say: “Don’t use your phone too much.” With parents, I say:”Please use your phone properly.” My kids: “Ugh mom, you don’t get it.” My parents: “Beta, this phone doesn’t get it.”
And of course, the Password Olympics: Kids forget theirs on purpose, so I reset it. Parents forget theirs naturally, so I reset it. I, meanwhile, remember everyone’s passwords but not my own.
But beneath the comedy lies the message we often forget: Parenting is a full circle. As our kids slowly move away from us, building their own worlds, our parents slowly start clinging tighter to us wanting comfort, reassurance, attention, and sometimes just our presence.
It’s funny. It’s exhausting. It’s confusing. It’s tender. And it’s ours. We are the generation managing homework on one side and banking forms on the other. Teenage attitude in the front seat and ageing stubbornness in the back seat.
One generation that thinks we are too strict and one that thinks we are too carefree. And in the middle, us: The Sandwich Generation; holding it together with humour, patience, and the occasional scream into a pillow.
But if you look closely, both kids and parents want the same things: To feel safe. To feel heard. To feel loved. To know that I’m around. And somehow, that makes the chaos feel like purpose.
Maybe this is what growing up really is realising that you’ve become the parent your parents once were, and the parent your children might someday be.
Until then, I’ll continue raising my kids with rules…and raising my parents with reverse psychology and emotional blackmail.
After all, every generation needs its own parenting style.