Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here. Dear Care and Feeding, My wife, “Sarah,” always wanted to be an actress, but it never happened for her. We have a daughter, “Bianca,” and the trouble is that for years, Sarah has been trying to push her into acting. She has auditioned Bianca for parts in commercials and TV shows since before Bianca could talk; she’s had a handful of spots, but nothing significant. When our daughter was 4 years old, Sarah signed her up for acting lessons. Now Bianca is almost 7, and it’s become abundantly clear she does NOT enjoy acting (she wants to play soccer more than anything). She has told her mom directly, but Sarah refuses to listen. Bianca is growing increasingly miserable and has gone to such lengths as hiding or pretending to be sick when it’s time for her acting lessons to avoid going. I have tried to explain to Sarah that attempting to vicariously live out her dream through Bianca isn’t fair to our daughter. She is not only robbing her of her childhood, but she’s also risking driving a permanent wedge between them. Sarah dismisses it and remains convinced it’s only a matter of time before Bianca gets discovered and that she will thank her later once she’s famous. There’s still time to sign Bianca up for soccer this season, and I’m thinking of doing it. Sarah can just deal with it. I had no say in the whole acting thing for all these years, so I think it’s only fair. Would I be wrong to let Bianca do what she wants to do for a change? —Time to Face Reality Dear Reality, I don’t generally advise going behind a spouse’s back. You risk losing the high ground you do have, and you’d be disregarding your partner just as she’s been disregarding your (and Bianca’s) concerns. But you need to find a way to get through to your wife, because I think you have very valid concerns. (Wil Wheaton, of Stand by Me and Star Trek: The Next Generation fame, has discussed in books, podcasts, and various articles throughout the years what it was like to experience his mother’s problematic desire to live vicariously through him. Jennette McCurdy’s I’m Glad My Mom Died offers a similar sobering tale.) You might ask Sarah what would make her stop pursuing Bianca’s acting career. That is, if Bianca doesn’t get a “big break,” when does all this end? When she’s 10? 14? 18? Never? My guess is that your wife doesn’t have an endpoint in mind, which is unrealistic. Also, is Bianca allowed to pursue other interests at all, or must her entire free time be devoted to auditions, and why? (Plenty of child and adult actors have hobbies, after all.) Set soccer aside for a moment: What happens if Bianca wants to join the drama club or the choir? Does Bianca get to have any hobby she wants, only acting-related hobbies, or absolutely no hobbies, and why? The questions you ask may vary, but since your and Bianca’s emotional protestations have fallen on deaf ears, I think it’s worth going the logical route to try to show Sarah how incomplete her plan is. (And if it turns out there is a full plan, best you hear about it now.) Ultimately, though, I think you’ll need to enlist the help of a family therapist. Tell Sarah that this is non-negotiable because you are concerned about how her pursuit of stardom is affecting Bianca’s well-being. I suggest you propose a six-month break from auditions so you can focus on this issue together as a family. Maybe Bianca can play soccer during that time; tell Sarah that the break might give Bianca the chance to see if she misses auditioning. I think any intensive pursuit—child acting, travel sports, competitive gymnastics, etc.—really only works under two conditions. One: Both parents agree on what the goal is, what the limits are, and how they’re going to manage the required logistics. And two: The child remains interested, dedicated, and willing to put in the time. That’s plainly not where your family is, and I wish you luck as you and Sarah try to get on the same page. Dear Care and Feeding, My wife and I have a 10-year-old daughter, “Sophie,” who is trying to earn extra money so she can buy the Nintendo Switch 2 when it comes out. Now that the weather is warmer, I told her I would pay her $20 a week to mow the lawn in our front and backyards. Sophie was all for it. When I ran it by my wife, “Eliza,” she was adamantly not. When I asked why, she said it was “too dangerous” for a child Sophie’s age. I think my wife is being ridiculous here. I was mowing the lawn for my parents to earn extra cash when I was 8! Not to mention, there are neighbor kids on our block who started mowing when they were younger than Sophie is now. And our mower has a safety bar that must be held against the handle while the user is mowing, which will instantly shut the mower off if released. In the event of flying debris, Sophie can wear some safety glasses. Frankly, I think her mowing would be a win-win for everybody; Sophie gets to earn money and learns responsibility from working for something she wants, and I won’t have to mow the lawn anymore. None of this, however, makes a difference to Eliza, and she refuses to budge. How can I get through to her that lawn mowing is a perfectly normal chore for a kid our daughter’s age? —She Said No to the Mow Dear No to the Mow, I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is that I crowd-sourced my trusty Facebook parents group by asking, “At what age do you think kids can start mowing the lawn?” and a lot of parents said 10 or so, and a few said 8, and all agreed that the child’s maturity was as important as their chronological age. The bad news? A lot of other parents said 12, which is what the American Academy of Pediatrics advises. They also have a list of safety protocols parents should follow to keep kids safe during this chore on their blog. Given these recommendations, I hope you will concede that Eliza is not being ridiculous. I hope you can also acknowledge that we did a lot of things in the 80s and 90s that we might not do today—after all, know better, do better! When it comes to safety, I think a good rule of thumb is to try to accommodate the more cautious parent (within reason) so that both of you can feel comfortable about what your kids are up to. So in this case, if you are comfortable with mowing but Eliza is not, and her concerns are valid (as we’ve proven), then her point of view should win out. Brainstorm together some alternative chores that are the same “value” for your daughter to do. A quick Google search of “chores by age” can give you lots of ideas. Meanwhile, if Sophie was excited about mowing—and if you still dream of a future where that task is off your shoulders—you and your wife should start talking now about the steps you need to take to get ready for your daughter to mow in a few years. What makes your wife uncomfortable, and do the safety precautions linked above allay her fears? I also wonder if your wife knows how to mow—often the things that scare us the most are the things we aren’t familiar with. If that’s the case, teach Eliza how to mow and share that chore amongst the two so that she can help coach and supervise Sophie when the time comes. Send Your Questions to Good Job! Laura Helmuth and Doree Shafrir want to help you navigate your social dynamics 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, I’m 13, and I have issues with my screen time. Not as bad as other people do (I spend about four hours of useless time on my phone in a day), but bad enough that it’s becoming a problem. I want to spend more time doing other things, but I just can’t, and that’s not helped by the fact that my screens aren’t limited or monitored at all, even at night. (My parents don’t see my screen time at all.) I’ve tried deleting social media and stuff, but I just end up scrolling through news or my photos. I want to ask for help from my parents, but I’m way too embarrassed (they think I’m responsible with screens, which is why there are no limits on them, and proudly talk about this. Also, I’m not technically allowed to spend so much time on my phone, even though I’m not being monitored.) Do you have any advice for talking to them about it? —I Want My Life Back Dear I Want My Life Back, This is a good time to admit that I didn’t work on this column when I set aside time to because I got too distracted watching TikTok videos on my phone for hours, and now I’m up past midnight writing this. I share that story with you for a couple of reasons. One, to let you know that you’re not alone. Two, to illustrate that this is likely something that you’ll struggle with, off and on, into adulthood, so you might as well try to learn some good habits now. So, well done on writing to us. The first thing to keep in mind—and this is a life lesson that transcends screen time, so take it to heart—is that asking for help is not a sign of failure or weakness. It is exactly the opposite. When you admit you’re struggling, you demonstrate maturity, self-awareness, and responsibility. When you ask for help, you’re declaring a desire to improve. I think asking for help is a really powerful thing. I don’t know your parents, but if you were my child, I’d be impressed and proud that you came to me with this issue—even if I had previously thought you were 100 percent trustworthy with your devices. I personally find it very hard to start difficult conversations; once I’m in the conversation, it’s fine, but putting everything out there at the beginning can be overwhelming. If that is true for you, try writing your parents a letter. (You could even show your parents this column, and it would give them enough context.) Hand them the letter and ask to talk once they’ve read it. I’d also start brainstorming some solutions. Make a chart with two columns. On the left is a list of each bad habit you’ve noticed: too many hours using the phone, late-night scrolling, getting distracted from other activities, etc. On the right side, jot down some possible solutions: screen time monitoring, surrendering the phone at a certain time of night, etc. Coming prepared with some ideas will help you and your parents have a productive conversation. Finally, don’t worry about the fact that your parents have bragged about you in the past and now have to eat their words, so to speak. They aren’t the first, nor will they be the last, parents to get a reality check about their kids. In the grand scheme of things, I bet they’ll feel this ranks pretty low on the parenting drama scale. Your proactivity here will matter far more than your weakness for TikTok. Good luck, you’ve got this! More Advice From Slate My wife and I are parents to five children, ages 17, 15 (twins), 12, and 8. When the 17- and 15-year-olds were in seventh grade, they had to read Where the Red Fern Grows and watch the movie. It did not go well for two of the three of them, and both my wife and I hated having to relive that book, too…