I know that 99.9 percent of the time, the answer is to not get involved with how other people raise their children, but I am wondering if I fall into the 00.1 percent. My sister, "Jane," and her husband are turning into delusional, overbearing sports parents. They spend tens of thousands of dollars a year for my 11-year-old nephew, "Rudy," to play on multiple travel teams and be privately coached, and they spend all year driving around the country so that he can play in tournaments. They are talking about college scholarships and how this investment will all be worthwhile when it pays them back. The thing is, my husband ("Mark") and I are uniquely positioned to give them a dose of reality.

Mark played Rudy's chosen sport at a high-level Division I college on a full scholarship, then was drafted by a professional team. He played in the minor leagues for four years. And the difference between Mark and Rudy is that Mark was genetically gifted in ways Rudy is not. And -- even more important -- Mark had the motivation that Rudy does not. Mark always says that he didn't turn professional at 22 -- he did that at age 9, when he basically gave up his childhood to spend every weekend playing this sport, started practicing on different teams before and after school, and stopped doing any "normal" childhood things because there was no time for them. But that was his decision. If anything, his parents wanted him to have a more normal childhood; Mark had to beg and plead to spend all of his time on his sport. Mark was so good at it, his family wasn't paying for him to play on these teams -- the fees were waived so that the teams could advertise that Mark played for them.

Rudy is different. He doesn't spend his free time playing and practicing. He wants to sit on the couch. His parents have to force him to go outside and practice. When we visit and Mark asks him if he wants to go outside and play the sport with him, Rudy always says no. I think we should sit down with Jane and tell her the truth about Rudy's prospects so she can make an informed decision about the money they are spending, and about her relationship with Rudy. Mark wants to stay out of it. He says that although it's true that as long as Jane and her husband are willing to pay, there will be someone who is willing to take their money and encourage them to believe in Rudy's chances of getting a scholarship, and that this isn't our business. He also says that, eventually, either Rudy will quit (because it's tough to make a teenager do anything) or it will become painfully obvious to his parents that this strategy isn't going to work. So when we watch Rudy's games -- or even when we're just visiting Jane and her family -- and they ask Mark what he thinks, Mark always says, "Just make sure he's having fun." I think he needs to be more honest. He says that if he is, it will cause a fight. What should we do?

There's a middle ground here, I think, when it comes to staying out of it versus being "honest" (by which you mean direct and blunt). Right now Mark is gently sidestepping the question with his honest but politely incomplete response -- I mean, he really does wish that Rudy's parents would make sure he's having fun, something they seem to have neglected to do. He can certainly say more about how very hard it is to succeed at this sport, how many factors are involved, how few kids manage to pull off what they have in mind, and how crucial it is that Rudy wants this more than anything (he doesn't have to spell out that their wanting it is not what counts), and that a child who doesn't love the sport more than anything else in the world is unlikely to achieve scholarship-earning excellence at it. In other words, he can inject a dose of reality, but stay short of saying, "Kid's got no talent and is a coach potato."

If they demand to know what Mark thinks of Rudy right now as a player of this sport, I think Mark can tell the truth, but should do so in the kindest, gentlest way possible. This is not for the parents' sake, but for Rudy's. Is Rudy just "OK at it"? Say so: "He's all right." If he's terrible at it, try, "All right, I guess?" And if the response to that is, "What do you mean 'all right'?! His private coach says he's definitely scholarship material!", the avoiding-a-breakdown-in-relations response from Mark should not be a snarky, "I guess he knows better -- after all, you're paying him a fortune to tell you that," or a flat, "Nope, he's wrong," but a shrug. "You asked me what I think," Mark can say. "That's all I can tell you."

But staging an intervention would be wrong. It's unlikely to have the effect you hope it will (they see the light and let Rudy be Rudy from now on); more likely, they'll be hurt and angry, and Mark's and your relationship with them will suffer. And how much good can you do Rudy if your sister isn't speaking to you? Just plant some seeds and give them something to think about. That would be better than pretending, as Mark seems to be doing now, he knows nothing and has nothing to say.

Dear Care and Feeding,

My husband and I work opposing schedules, so most of the time our 3-year-old daughter spends with us is one-on-one: He is with her in the morning before preschool, I am with her after school and most Saturdays (because he has frequent weekend shifts). That means that the only stretch of time we reliably have to spend together as a family is on Sunday. And Sundays ... suck. My daughter has more frequent meltdowns, dissolves into uncharacteristic whining and obstinacy, and tries to play my husband and me off each other ("I don't want Daddy to come to the playground!" or, "Go away, Mommy, this is Daddy's and my game" ). We try to stress how grateful we are to have this time for all of us to be together, but it's clear that, for her, it's confusing. It's really beginning to feel like three's a crowd. This makes parenting more difficult, and, frankly, it's stressful for our marriage. Is this normal? What should we do about it?

Poor dear. I've been there. Well, sort of there. All week long, throughout our daughter's childhood, starting when she was 3, she was alone with one or the other of us when she wasn't at preschool (or, later, school). Sundays were "family days," and man, did they suck. For us, the problem was that we could never find anything all three of us wanted to do -- my husband and I are so different! Even when the one who was being dragged to the playground to shoot hoops or to the theater for a play did their best to be a good sport about it, our daughter always picked up on it/knew exactly how miserable the other parent was, and reacted accordingly.

It's hard for a child who's used to being with one parent at a time to adjust to the presence of both. But it's also a fact of life for many families that time for all to be together is the exception, not the rule. The key piece to this vexing puzzle is to take your own disappointment, hurt feelings, and frustration out of it. There is absolutely no point in "stressing" to a 3-year-old that you're grateful (for one thing, you're not; you're not having a good time at all -- you only wish you were) or that she (or you) should be grateful. That will make matters worse. Instead, ease up. Stop putting so much pressure on yourselves and on the day. You can all three be together without necessarily doing something all together. (That's how we finally solved the Problem of Family Time. Well, that and establishing a let's-take-turns rule once our child was 7 or 8 years old: Every Sunday, one of the three of us got to choose what we'd do for a couple of hours as a family, and the other two had to make a genuine effort to enjoy it, knowing that their turn would soon come.)

What I'm suggesting for you is that you all hang out together in a low-key way: say, in the same room at home, but with one of you relaxing with a book on the couch while the other is on the floor with your child, building a block structure or participating in a stuffed animal tea party -- or at the playground, where one of you genially looks on from a bench while the other pushes her on a swing. Let her ask the other parent to join in, when she is ready for it. This will happen, I promise, if you don't force it, though it may take a few Sundays before she requests any two-parent action. And even once she does start to, she may need to alternate short sessions of everyone playing together with quick bursts of one-on-one activities with each parent. She may want to spend some time playing by herself with both of you nearby. Or you might all three be in one room doing entirely different things (but not on screens, please) for at least some of the time. The main thing is that, for this one day each week, you are all three in one another's presence. The less pressure you put on yourselves to "make the most of it," the better.

My teenage son recently came out as trans. I totally support him, but I have some feelings about the new name he has chosen for himself. I named him "Angela" after someone very dear to me who had passed away not long before his birth ("Angelo"). Shortly after he came out to me, I asked him if he wanted to start going by Angelo, but he said he had chosen the name "Kieran." I'm disappointed. The male version of the name was right there! Obviously, I'm not going to give my son a hard time about this; I'm not going to make a big deal over how much it would mean to me if he went by Angelo. But do you have any advice on how I can reframe (for myself) his choice to ditch his given name so that I feel less sad about it?

The way to reframe this is the same way to reframe everything one's children do as they begin to establish themselves as individuals (and leave their parents feeling left behind, left out, bereft ... or even disappointed, irritated, frustrated, or simply baffled). Remind yourself, as often as necessary until it becomes second nature to think this way, that your son is his own person, and that this is what you want for him -- that he establish himself fully as himself, eventually independent of you.

His choice of name has nothing to do with you at all. It is not a rejection of you, or of the dear friend you lost and hoped to memorialize and honor by naming your child for him. He is not thinking about you or your friend Angelo: He is making a decision about himself. Does it hurt to know that he's not thinking of you? Maybe it does. But -- oh, trust me on this -- there is a lot of this sort of thing just ahead. Whole days, weeks -- or more -- when he is so preoccupied with his own affairs, you won't be on his mind. (That he will always be on your mind is the central tragedy/romance/reality of parenthood.)

Some of your sadness, I expect, has to do with this -- that he's not taking your feelings, your choice, into account. Some of it is sadness about his making this decision on his own, not in consultation with you (don't you get a say? you may be wondering, deep down; after all, you got the whole say the first time around!). This is also part of the necessary letting go as our kids reach their teens. Remind yourself of that too -- and, while you're at it, of the great job you're doing as his parent, supporting him and loving him wholeheartedly as he figures out who he is and launches himself into the world. That he feels able to do this -- and to talk to you about it -- is a testament to your good parenting. You'll get used to his new name, I assure you. And it's OK to be a little bit sad about his growing up, making his own decisions, living his own life. Just don't wallow in that sadness. If you need to talk about it, find someone safe to whom to talk about it. Great instinct, knowing that this should not be him.

-- Michelle

My mother was terribly rude during our Christmas visit with my parents. My husband, two kids, dog, and I traveled to be with them, and although she had told me how excited she was for us to stay with them, she complained constantly while we were there. She hated: the movie we watched, the music we played, the route I chose to walk my dog, food I brought from home to share, etc.