We “Accused” a Kid of Stealing From Us. The Parents Did Not Take It Well.

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,

My family is friends with another family that we met through our children. We both have 7-year-olds and socialize at each other’s homes often. While visiting this family’s home recently, I discovered some of my kid’s belongings. These items have sentimental value, and I had a suspicion that they could have been taken without our child’s permission by our friend’s child. We have had other items go missing from our home after their visits, but until now, we always assumed they had just been misplaced. I didn’t want to embarrass their child in the moment and ask about them, so I left them where I found them. When we returned home, I confirmed with my child that they were not given away.

I then told our friends what I found, making sure to tell them that if their child had taken them intentionally, we understand that this is typical kid behavior, and it isn’t a big deal. We assumed our friends would have wanted to know so they could ask their child how the items got there and then address the situation with the child however they saw fit. Now our friends are furious with me for accusing their child of stealing. They believe that the items were taken home by accident, and we should have never suggested it could have been otherwise. Though I don’t believe they asked their child about them. Was it out of line to think there was a possibility they were stolen? How should I have handled this differently?

—Despised in Denver

Dear Despised,

I like to think I keep a measured view of things, and that I consider both the letter writer’s and the other party’s sides when answering a question. Hopefully, I’m fair more often than not.

But in this case, I’m Team You. Kids steal. Sometimes they know that’s what they are doing, and sometimes their growing brains short-circuit on the logic. None of it means they are bad kids, nor does it predict a future life of crime. Reasonable people know this. I suppose it’s possible that the other parents were embarrassed and just had a poor reaction to the conversation, but I think that may be giving them too much credit. Be gracious, mumble “my mistake,” and get the belongings back. Then see what happens the next time Little Timmy swipes something. They’ll either apologize or they’ll double down, and at that point, you’ll know everything you need to know about the future of these friendships.

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Dear Care and Feeding,

My entire life (I’m 35F), gift-giving has always been one of my love languages. I love surprising people with thoughtful, fun, and useful gifts and enjoy shopping for the people close to me. My husband comes from a large family (eight siblings, all of whom are married with at least one or two kids) and Christmas is a festival of excess for them, with everyone buying presents for everyone. It’s A LOT. I’ve always done my best to choose engaging, meaningful, and thoughtful gifts. While not always the most expensive, I feel like they’re enjoyed immensely—until recently.

This year, we’ve seen some financial difficulties and won’t be able to do our usual level of gifts for our nieces and nephews (I stopped buying presents for parents/siblings-in-law years ago, because, no). Unfortunately, due to several factors, our two nieces (6 and 10) have become incredibly materialistic, and at the oldest’s birthday last weekend, she opened a mountain of gifts, looked around at all of us, and said, “That’s it?” I kept my opinions to myself, but I was appalled. I was raised to be grateful, say “Thank you” for everything from cards to cars, and always write thank you notes afterward. I’m doing my best to instill this in my two boys, but I honestly don’t know how to handle my nieces. They’ve never said thank you and often push aside books and craft sets in favor of large splashy items. This year, we’re limiting ourselves to a strict $25 per kid because that’s what our budget allows. I know we’re going to hear about it from our nieces or their mother, but short of telling them we’re drowning in medical debt and don’t have a choice, I have no idea how to deal with it.

—Not the Grinch, I Swear

Dear Not the Grinch,

The way I see it, you have a couple of options. First, drop their mother a note ahead of time and let her know you’re on a budget, and ask her to let the girls know. You can explain that you don’t want the girls to read anything into the gift amount. Your second option is to prepare a rejoinder in case the girls or their mom says anything to you. “I don’t measure my love for people in dollars” to the mom, or a gentle teaching moment for the girls, if you have that kind of relationship.

Your third option is one that you’re probably going to have to deploy even if you try one of the above suggestions: Let it go. You cannot control other people’s reactions, and you aren’t responsible for raising these girls to be more gracious. If that isn’t a priority for their parents, nothing you say or do in a single moment is likely to influence their attitude about gifts. Raise your boys to be courteous and grateful; that will far outweigh any shade your nieces throw and will probably earn you and your husband the respect of the family members who share your sentiments about the more materialistic kin among you.

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Dear Care and Feeding,

My husband and I got married in our 30s and now have a 1-year-old. My husband was married previously, and his parents really stepped in for emotional support when he divorced. So he feels extremely close to them, which is not a bad thing, exactly. Before we had a kid, they gave us privacy, but I knew they’d had boundary issues with my sister- and brother-in-law and their kids. Now that I have a child, I see how my sister-in-law feels. They are our main babysitters and don’t take it well when I ask them not to do something. They become very petty and make snide remarks. Even having my son 50 hours a week, when we are at family functions, they have to hold him the entire time. Or they watch for someone to put the baby down, and they scoop him up. They take him from me and when he whines for me, they do not give him back. My mother-in-law also constantly tells me what to do. They’ve recently been naked around my child. And while he’s too young to remember now, I’m worried about when he’s older, since my husband just told me he showered with his grandfather at 6 years old.

My husband doesn’t see a problem and expects me to tell them when I’m bothered. I feel like I’m going insane and am totally unsupported by him. Divorce is on my mind constantly. How do I get him to see how I’m feeling and that I’m seriously considering divorce?

— Losing my Family

Dear Losing,

I’m going to lead off with a bit of ground-truthing here, before getting to your central question. The examples you give of behaviors you dislike sound pretty run-of-the-mill to me. Are they annoying? Sure. But I have either directly experienced or read multiple letters mentioning every one of them. So, before we talk about the D-word, just know that this kind of stuff, as you’ve described, is not unusual. I’m not at all trying to minimize its impact on you, and it’s hard to tell from a letter how ever-present any of the behaviors may be; I just want to point out that your in-laws’ conduct doesn’t feel out of left field, to me, which is likely adding to some of your miscommunication with them and your husband.

There are, of course, things you can do to work around the issues, like wearing the baby at family functions or calling them out directly when they make snide remarks. But those are only patches if what you feel is an overall mismatch between their expectations and behavior and your expectations and comfort.  And that is where your husband comes in.

You need to sit down with him and have a serious, frank conversation—and if you are truly considering divorce (not fantasizing about it—I think that’s different), you need to tell him when explaining how bad it has gotten for you. You can do this in a way that asks him for help rather than blames him for inaction. Focus on you and not his mess-ups or his parents’ behaviors; divorce is a devastating and traumatic event, and you want to be respectful of the bond he developed with his parents as he lived through that. Be specific about what you need to feel re-centered in your marriage. If he hears you and takes your needs seriously, then you can start to dive into details and make a plan. I’d strongly encourage seeking the help of a marriage counselor who can help him become your family’s advocate while at the same time helping you make reasonable requests and concessions.

Whatever you do, don’t fall into the set-up-to-fail trap—where you expect him to be a mind reader and then become angry when he inevitably doesn’t do what you want. If you are serious about not losing your nuclear family, as your sign-off name suggests, you need to clearly communicate with each other about what you want and need, even if you resent having to do so. It’s the only way you’ll learn how to be true partners to one another in this new phase of your relationship. Good luck!

Dear Care and Feeding,

The following question is about the emotional health of a coping mechanism I have developed over the past three years. For the first 15 years of our 20-year marriage, I (an early middle-aged cis male) mostly felt starved for my wife’s affection and affirmation—verbal and physical—and did whatever I could to get it. For the most part, this meant accentuating the best parts of myself with hard work and exerting a tremendous amount of patience to deal with her excessive pessimism and anxiety. I always believed that she would change—that she’d have an epiphany that I was actually a good mate for her and that we had good lives, if only she allowed us to live them.

About five years ago, though, I realized that she was never going to change; she would never feel confident enough to let me know that, fundamentally, she mostly just preferred me to the alternative. She would never enjoy the truly remarkable life we have been able to live. At that point, I felt myself pulling away from her. I feel like my entire marriage has been a journey through the five stages of grief. For the first 15 years, I was stuck in the denial stage. Then I felt myself going through anger, and I fantasized daily about divorcing her. Except, I’d remind myself that our finances were intertwined and we have three children. I could not bear the thought of seeing them every other weekend and again on Wednesdays.

After a year or so, my anger diminished and I now seem to have settled into my current stage, which might be bargaining, sorrow, or acceptance. I’m not sure. In this stage, I am a much more stoic version of myself. I don’t allow myself to be vulnerable with her. I don’t say I love you. I rarely compliment her. I avoid conflict with her because to resolve conflict, we have to communicate our feelings and, frankly, I don’t want to. As you might imagine, this has rendered a quiet sense of emotional estrangement. To those out there who have healthy relationships, it probably sounds miserable. But honestly, I prefer it to the alternative: opening myself up so I can take another punch to the gut and then have to fight with her about whether or not she threw the punch. I’d prefer to just say, “Ow, that hurt. But that’s who she is. What do you expect?” I will say that since I have entered this phase of emotional estrangement, it has contributed mightily to a more peaceful home. Every once in a while, I do feel the impulse to abandon stoicism and love her the way I used to. But I resist that urge. Is this unhealthy?

—Content in Quiet Desperation

Dear Content,

What you’re describing doesn’t sound like “contentment” at all, but rather a coping mechanism, like a callus on an often-abused heel or finger. Is it unhealthy? That’s beyond my expertise, I’m afraid.  Is it a viable way to conduct a marriage? I suppose it could be. If I’ve learned anything in my decades on this planet, it’s that relationships take many forms and there is no one way to define a successful marriage. But I can’t help but read your letter and think that underneath the proverbial callus is some pretty raw, damaged tissue. I fear you aren’t protecting yourself from pain, but that you’ve lost yourself to it.

Here are some things I ask you to consider. One, do the benefits of remaining in the marriage outweigh the loss of self you may be experiencing? You mention the kids; staying together because of children is certainly an understandable decision. If it is worth it to you to be numb in marriage so that you reap as much time with your kids as you can (as well as economic stability, which you also mention), I cannot fault the logic.

Two, what picture are you painting for your children? How aware are they of your marriage difficulties? (Probably more aware than you realize, depending on their ages.) Are you setting a positive example, or are you a cautionary tale? Marriage is real life, so the answer is probably somewhere in the middle, but think about whether staying together for the kids is actually doing them the favors you may think it is.

Three, is this how you see the rest of your life unfolding, or is this a finite compromise you’re considering until the kids are grown (or some other event)? Either way, realize that you deserve to be happy, and to be treasured for the person you are without a proverbial callus. Do you get that love and acceptance elsewhere in your social circles, and are thus fine with your marriage being less about romance and more about roommates? Or do you ultimately want that emotional connection to a partner?

There aren’t right or wrong answers to any of these questions, but perhaps answering them can help you reflect on the path you’re on. Ultimately, if you want to know whether your coping mechanism is healthy, I encourage you to seek therapy to uncover that answer with a more expert guiding hand. While I don’t want you to be sad on a daily basis, I do want you to be fulfilled. Unfortunately, only you can define fulfillment for yourself. I wish you the best.

—Allison

I’m a 29-year-old straight cis woman. I have no kids, and in spite of all I read in this column, I’d still like to be a parent in the future. My question is about getting on the same page with my partner about this. He’s a 28-year-old straight cis man who says he’s neutral on having children. Honestly, I don’t think he ever thought about it until we started dating five years ago. I’ve always been upfront about my desire to be a parent but never thought of it as something particularly urgent, especially since I think I might want to adopt. When we’ve talked about it together, his response has always been that we have plenty of time and it was something he was thinking about. Now, however, I find I’m having many swirling emotions about it.