By Carolyn Hax
Tuesday, July 1, 2008

While I'm away, readers give the advice:

On not wanting cutesy stuff for your kids:

One of my earliest and wisest epiphanies of parenthood was that my kids are people, separate and apart from me and my tastes, my comfort levels, my personality, etc. -- from DAY ONE. A parent may dislike babyish things, but her child may be crazy about things that give her the willies and may not be wild about her tasteful preferences.

That said, I set boundaries on TV, etc., and my son and I talked a lot about GI Joe and war and why guns were so interesting. I really tried to limit my restrictions to health and safety issues, with huge doses of my opinions and expectations.

My beloved and long-awaited second child (a daughter) could not tolerate lace or frills or trim of almost any kind. She adored Barbie dolls, which I always found insulting and demeaning. In loving my children, I learned about each of them and delighted in the differences and I let them explore who THEY were.

Sorry about the soapbox. I'm very irritated by mothers (and fathers) who think their children are a belonging or an accessory.

L.

On helping without intruding:

For the people who want to be supportive, ASK what the person wants. For the people in the situation, BE HONEST about what you want.

If they want visitors and support, participate. If they want solitude, respect it. Let them know you're there if needed, but don't push.

One time a friend told me at the birth of her fourth child that all she wanted was a box of diapers, 'cause she had everything else, and some sleep. I left her a box of diapers, plus a box of her favorite raspberry bonbons from a local chocolate shop, without ever seeing her or the baby. I also took care of some sick animals for her, going directly to the barn, caring for the animals, and leaving without stopping at the house.

A week later, when she was up and going again, she told me it was the best gift she'd ever gotten from anyone.

Another time a friend's mother was dying, three months after my own father died. Neither one of us had a good relationship with our parents; it's one of the things that bonds us. I called her a couple of times a week, left a message just to let her know I was thinking about her and I was here if she needed me. She never called back while her mother was dying. I saw her only once during the time, at an event where we both were participating. But a couple of weeks after the funeral she called to tell me how much my calls had meant to her.

You will be a lot more useful if you know how. And, if you're the one in that situation, it's not the time to be coy. Your friends and family often don't know how to respond, but if you tell them, you'll most probably get what you need.

L.G.C.

Write to Carolyn Hax, Style, 1150 15th St. NW, Washington, D.C. 20071, ortellme@washpost.com.