• My children have lied to me ever since they were young.
• This is a normal part of development as kids test the waters and try to avoid punishment.
• I've struggled to deal with the lying and tried to remain a positive role model for them.

It never ceases to amaze me how effortlessly my children lie. My 18-month-old, whose face was covered with crumbs, swore up and down that she hadn't been near the cookie jar. My preschooler looked me in the eye and denied breaking the window with his plastic bat that was still in his hand. It didn't seem to get better as they got older.

After I handed my ATM card to my two oldest sons so they had money for lunch, I asked for the change, and they said, "We only took out $5, so there is no change."

We all know you can't just withdraw $5.00. How could they tell me such a bald-faced lie with a straight face?

Dealing with my children's lies has been one of the most challenging aspects of parenting.

Lying is natural in childhood

Here's the problem: Lying is easy. What I find especially distressing is that no one has to teach children how to lie.

"Lying is developmentally appropriate," Ailen Arreaza, the executive director of Parents Together, a national nonprofit parent and family advocacy group, told me. "When a toddler or a 4-year-old lies, it's frustrating for the parent, but it's perfectly normal. It means that your kid's brain is developing in the way that it should be."

Arreaza also told me kids tell three kinds of lies: attention-seeking ones, careless ones, and serious ones that happen when they're older.

For example, one of my sons told me he missed curfew because he lost track of time when, in fact, he was at his girlfriend's house and just didn't want to leave.

"Often teenagers tell lies because they're afraid of the consequences or they're embarrassed," Arreaza said.

I struggled with how I should handle lying

Confronting my children in search of the truth is never comfortable. In fact, it can be exhausting — a round-robin of questions and denials before they finally break and admit what they've done.

There have been times when I was so eager to know the truth that I promised to refrain from any form of punishment. I want to hear a confession to satisfy my suspicion and feel vindicated, but then I face the sticky situation of what happens next time they lie.

"It's important to address the lie, but not in a way that shames the child and labels them as liars," Arreaza said. "This is about changing a behavior, not who the child is. Create a safe environment where truth-telling is encouraged. If they think they're disappointing you or they're going to get in trouble, they're going to continue to lie to please you."

I try to be a role model for my kids

I want nothing more than for my children to tell the truth, and often they do.

When he was 12, one of my boys came to me and, unprompted, confessed to a more serious lie he'd told previously. I had no clue, but it was eating him up inside. My son expressed his remorse and asked for forgiveness. I imagined the guilt was gnawing at him for betraying my trust.

I'm glad he admitted that he lied. In modeling the truth for my children, I hope they understand they can always come clean to me. My son felt safe and supported to do just that.

In that way, I have to believe that the truth will always win out in the end.

• I was worried about how my adult children and new partner would bond and get along.
• Once we started traveling together, though, we got closer and really felt like a family.
• By traveling, created shared memories while learning more about each other.

When I first met my partner almost 10 years ago, my two daughters were in college and not home much.

Once he became a fixture in my life and they were home more, though, the complexities of blending a family became real. It wasn't easy for them to share our space and get to know this man — nor was it easy for him to navigate his new partner's children.

We finally found our groove once we started traveling together.

To start, we took a short trip (two days) with just the four of us — and we chose a place close to home.

I wasn't sure how we'd all get along, if it would feel awkward, if there'd be arguments, or if we'd all want to do different things. My partner also confessed a feeling of dread as we approached the trip: What if it was a disaster?

As our trip began, though, I noticed how relaxed we all felt away from all the day-to-day stresses of home and work. This immediately made it easier to connect.

Travelling as a group forces us to spend more time together

Once my youngest daughter moved in with her serious boyfriend, we saw a little less of her, which made building family bonds harder.

We were keen to welcome her boyfriend into the family and so, we thought, what better way to do that than by traveling together? We all spent a few days in the English Lake District in an old rental house, exploring the lakes and browsing antique stores.

Staying in a house together for a few days forced us to really get to know each other and connect. My partner and my daughter's boyfriend got on better than any of us could have hoped, and we all loved being in the one house.

I don't think anything brings you closer than sharing experiences, and that was definitely the case for our family.

We've found out more about each other through travel

We've gone wine tasting in Yorkshire, toured the Roman Baths in Bath, and toasted marshmallows over a fire in the Cheddar countryside.

Sharing all these new experiences together and doing things we might not do on our own — or might never even imagine doing — brought us closer together.

Along the way, we've learned and shared who each of us was and what we liked and didn't like.

We learned more about my daughter's boyfriend's love for skateboarding at an exhibition in Wales. My eldest daughter introduced us to her love for Ethiopian food in London.

At one point, my partner shared how much he enjoys a cold dip in the sea in Wales in October. Then, we all tried it.

As we each ran toward the waves, shrieking at the cold water and laughing at each other's reactions, I knew traveling together had made us closer than ever.

The American dream — like a beloved pair of pants you left in the dryer too long — is shrinking.

The idealized image of American life we know today was crystallized in the country's collective imagination in the 1930s. Since then, the idea that anyone can obtain a life that has the house with the white picket fence, 2.5 children, a lucrative career at an office that's a reasonable distance away, and the occasional trip to an enviable vacation spot has loomed large in nearly every facet of cultural and political life.

There's just one problem: The once expansive vision is getting smaller. Not only is it harder to grab a piece of it, like a bag of chips or a roll of toilet paper that has less substance every time you buy it, but even nominally achieving the dream is leaving people unsatisfied. Americans are having fewer kids, their houses are getting smaller, they're schlepping further to work, and they're spending less time on vacation.

Americans are taking notice of the diminishing returns. Among the 8,709 US adults surveyed by the Pew Research Center from April 8 to 14, 41% said that achieving the American dream was once possible but no longer. That's particularly true for younger Americans; 18- to 29-year-olds were the most likely to say that the American dream was never possible, and only 39% said that it's still possible. Their millennial counterparts felt similarly, though they were slightly more bullish on the possibility of the American dream.

At the same time, Americans are increasingly less satisfied with their personal lives, Gallup polling from January found. The share of Americans who are "very satisfied" with their personal lives has been plummeting, the poll found, and sits near record lows — other times it's gotten this bad were during the economic crisis of 2008 and its fallout in the following years. And even among those who might have achieved the American dream — higher earners with college degrees — life satisfaction has slipped.

Call it the shrinkflation of the American dream.

The central element of the American dream is owning a house. Having a roof over your head is the cornerstone of security and stability; research has found homeowners are less stressed than their renter counterparts, and beyond having a place that they can call their own, they have growing equity. But nowadays, the homes that many Americans live in rarely have enough room for a big dog — much less a picket fence.

In 2013, the median square footage of a new single-family housing unit was about 2,460. In 2015, new homes peaked at about 2,470 square feet — and then spent the next six years shrinking. In 2021, homes started to slowly get bigger again, and then they once again constricted. By 2023, the figure had fallen to about 2,180 square feet. An analysis by the National Association of Home Builders found that the share of single-family homes built with two bedrooms or fewer hit its highest level since 2012 — and the share of new homes built with four bedrooms fell to its lowest level since 2012.

Of course, homes getting a little smaller isn't necessarily a bad thing — many advocates for increasing the housing supply argue that the dedication to giant homes has made it tougher to build the number of new units that the country needs. But shrinking homes are coupled with another biting reality: Americans are paying more for less. In the same period that Americans have seen their homes shrink, home prices have grown by nearly $200,000. The median listing price per square foot was $127 in 2016; by 2024, that rose to $224 — meaning Americans were shelling out more per square foot, even as their square footage decreased. By one measure, Americans now need to work 110 hours a month to be able to afford their mortgages — meaning mortgages eat up the bulk of their earnings.

With those prices, it's no wonder first-time homebuyers are older than ever. The National Association of Realtors found that the median age of first-time homebuyers hit 38 in 2024, a record high. In 1981, the median age of a first-time buyer was 29; in 2014, it was 31.

It's not all peaches and rainbows for American renters, either. The median rent price in the US is $2,035, Zillow found. Rent.com, meanwhile, found that median rental asking prices hit about $1,619 in October. That's nearly a $300 increase from May 2019. So if renters are paying more, surely they're still at least getting some bang for their buck? Nope, apartments are getting smaller, too. In 2016, the median square footage of a new unit in a building that had two or more units was 1,105 square feet. Apartments have been shrinking since then: In 2023, new units were clocking in at a median of 1,020 square feet — and the measure reached its lowest recorded level in 2021 as housing prices and demand soared.

A house is just a house until there are people in it; only then, the saying goes, is it a home. But increasingly, American homes are occupied by fewer people. Not only is there a slight rise in single people buying a house, but also the pitter-patter of babies' feet is becoming less common in the hallways of American homes these days. The share of homebuyers without a child under 18 in the house rose to a new high of 73%. That comes as Americans are having fewer kids: The average number of births per woman in the US has fallen from nearly four in 1960 to 1.7 in 2022.

It should come as no surprise that Americans are having fewer children given the economic and social pressures working against them. If it's hard for anyone to break into the ranks of homeowners, it's even more difficult for parents. Housing costs aren't the only deterrent, young parents are also floundering amid rising childcare costs and the loss of the social connections that are critical to raising kids. At the same time, more Americans seem to be on board with choosing to go child-free. DINKs — double-income, no-kid couples — have been on the cultural rise. But just because it's harder for people with kids and more acceptable to forgo them doesn't mean that people are giving up on starting a family. Many Americans want to have children or have even more kids, but it's out of reach.

Karen Benjamin Guzzo, a professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill who's researched the gap between the number of children Americans intend to have versus their ultimate childbearing, told me that having kids is often seen as the "last step" in accomplishing the American dream. You go to college, you line up a good job, you get married, you buy a house, and then you fill it with kids. There's a problem, though. "Every step along the way has become less and less predictable," she said.

Guzzo's research has found, in part, that Americans still expect to have children — they just don't actually have them. The way Guzzo describes it is many Americans want kids, but with an asterisk: They want kids if they can find a good partner, a good job with family leave and enough pay to afford childcare, and so on.

"People need to feel confident that the next 25 years of their lives and the world in which their children will be raised and growing and becoming adults on their own. They need to feel confident about those," Guzzo said. "And we do not do a good job right now in the United States of making people feel confident about their futures."

Part of the American dream is the ability to actually enjoy it. You can come home for dinner, spend a nice evening with your family, and maybe enjoy some ice cream in front of the TV before heading to bed at a reasonable hour.

Unfortunately, for many people, the free time is getting sapped by a mind-numbing commute. The average travel time to work in 1990 was 22.4 minutes one way. By 2023, it rose to 26.8 minutes. That may not sound like a lot, but that adds up to nearly 4.5 hours a week just commuting to work, or about 10 days a year, assuming they went in every workday. Even if they're going into the office three days a week, that's still nearly 2.7 hours a week commuting, or the equivalent of almost 6 full days a year. Meanwhile, in 1990, Americans spent just about 3.7 hours a week commuting — about 44 minutes less a week. That's a whole episode of "Real Housewives." Even on a small scale, research has found that every minute added to a commute can reduce one's satisfaction with both their job and their leisure time. Most Americans commuting are doing so by car, which can also weigh on workers' mental health — and how well they're sleeping.

And as more Americans have moved away from urban cores — perhaps in pursuit of buying a house in cheaper areas — they're living farther from work. Young families, in particular, have fled larger urban areas and are finding themselves in the farthest reaches of suburbia. If you want the American dream of that larger, cheaper house, you might be paying for it in minutes stuck behind the wheel.

Reveling in the American dream also includes unwinding away from that house and job. But even as more Americans have access to paid vacation, that doesn't mean they're taking it. In July 1980, over 10 million working Americans were on vacation. At the height of the pandemic, that number had halved. And even as more Americans went on vacation in July post-2020, the number of workers vacationing in July has essentially plateaued over the past few years.

As The Washington Post found in an extensive analysis of eroding vacation time, some of that might be chalked up to another form of shrinkflation: Workers saving their vacation days for when they're feeling sick. In a very Dickensian twist, Americans might not be going on vacation because they're too busy being sick or caring for their ill kids instead.

All of this is not to say that the American dream has gone extinct, but there's a marked shift from the idea that things will get better for each successive generation. In a country where growth, expansion, and constantly improving your lot — and your family's lot — are North Stars, a diminishing and sickly American dream is a bit of an existential downer.

After all, in a March 2023 survey of 1,019 American adults by The Wall Street Journal and NORC, 78% of respondents said they were not confident that life would be better for their kids' generation. The share not confident their kids' lives will be better has soared over the past few decades; in 2000 just 42% said the same. In short: Many Americans are feeling like the dream is slipping through their fingers.

Guzzo said that we're seeing a bifurcation of the American dream. For the ultrawealthy, the ability to accumulate the markers of the dream has never been easier. The top 1% holds just over 13% of all real estate by dollar value in the US, while the bottom 50% holds just about 10%. And, as the Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta recounted in its December Beige Book round-up, lower- and middle-income consumers are scaling back their vacation plans; they're renting homes for multiple families and eating in rather than splashing out on hotels or fancy restaurants. Instead, the strength in tourism spending comes from those higher-income consumers exploring and going on cruises. For Americans in the middle, those who might have the college degree and career that could set them on that trajectory, the dream is still possible, though it may come later in life. But Guzzo said others, especially younger men without college degrees, feel the American dream has been pulled out from beneath them.

At the same time, there's a bittersweet parallel running alongside the shrinking of the American dream. For decades, things like homeownership or formal recognition of marriage were out of grasp — and, in some cases, expressly forbidden — for many marginalized groups. It's only in recent history that LGBTQ+ Americans and Americans of color have been able to somewhat catch up to their straight and white peers. But now that the American dream is within reach for these people, it's already shrinking.

Juliana Kaplan is a senior labor and inequality reporter on Business Insider's economy team.

• Tracey Kahn, a single mother by choice, gave birth at 49 and 51.
• The younger girl is a tween, and the older will turn 13 next spring.
• Kahn, 61, has found parenting more challenging as her daughters have grown older.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Tracey Kahn, 61, a publicist and the owner of a fine jewelry company in New York City. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I'd always thought that being a mom was part of my life plan. But it wasn't until my mid-40s that I began to wonder whether parenting would pass me by.

My career had always come first. Although I'd had serious relationships, I'd never committed to marriage. But, in the late 2000s, I thought, "Oh my God, I don't have kids!"

I'm a hustler and have always gone after what I wanted. I had a full physical and was approved for IVF using donor eggs and sperm. It wasn't the easiest pregnancy, but my daughter, Scarlett, arrived three days after my 49th birthday, weighing a healthy eight pounds.

I was keen for her to have a sibling. As soon as I felt my body had recovered from the C-section, I did another round of IVF. Scarlett's sister, Eloise, was born in December 2014.

Motherhood was exhilarating. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have my own family at last.

Still, there were challenges. The worst thing was going straight into menopause the moment I stopped breastfeeding Eloise when she was 6 months old.

Raising my girls is more difficult at the moment

Despite the hot flashes and mood swings, I managed to keep up with the girls. There were times when I was exhausted because I constantly needed to catch up on my sleep. But, looking back, parenting a baby and a toddler was a cakewalk compared to raising a tween and soon-to-be teen.

The tougher years are going on right now. It's a combination of the girls approaching adolescence and me being in my 60s.

Scarlett is in seventh grade, and Eloise is in fourth grade. She'll be in middle school next year — the stage when children want their own identity and freedom.

It's certainly been the case with Scarlett, who turns 13 in the spring. She used to play with Eloise a lot, but she's now very sensitive and wants her own space and privacy.

I have to be thoughtful about how I speak to her because there's a lot going on emotionally. She's trying to find herself while dealing with school, friend groups, and boys.

When you're older, your short-term memory changes, but your long-term memory is very sharp. I remember sixth grade like it was yesterday. "It was the same when I was at school," I'll tell Scarlett when she talks about cliques. There's always going to be the geeks and the more popular kids.

But she doesn't like to listen to her mother, just like me at her age. She'll get mad and say that I'm too old to understand. We argue, and she calls me out on everything. I'm learning to back off and let her figure things out for herself.

I'm very aware of my advancing age

Meanwhile, managing the kids' activities is a full time job. Scarlett goes horseback riding and swims. Eloise plays lacrosse and volleyball. They love the arts. I'll take them to classes after school. They have sleepovers with friends.

It's non-stop. I constantly ask myself whether I can make it to another school function. I still want to enjoy things with my girls, but I'm slower than I used to be. I feel like I can't get out of bed sometimes because my joints hurt. I recently went to a field hockey game and met another woman my age watching her granddaughter play.

Late motherhood has made me hyper-aware of getting older. Scarlett has promised to visit my grave every day after I die. My sister said, "How can you talk about death like that?" But I find it endearing. It's better that the kids are realistic about the future.

People think it's morbid, but I have to think ahead. I'm a big planner and want everything set up for the girls in advance. I'll be in my 70s when they graduate from college. I don't know whether I'll be around to see them married. Then again, I could live to 95.

I cherish every moment

Eloise is such a sweet child, she gives me back massages at night. They're amazing. But I don't want her and Scarlett to feel I will use them as caretakers. I'll employ somebody to help me when the time comes so my daughters can travel and lead great lives.

In the meantime, I'm soaking up the joy of being with them. Every morning, I watch them go out the door to conquer the day. I'm excited to see them again at night. I want to know which poem Scarlett wrote and how Eloise did in her dance class.

You need perseverance to raise tweens and teens in your sixties. But the rewards are incredible.

Do you have a powerful story to share with Business Insider about parenting? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected].

• Aprajita Anand has been a life coach for children of the ultrawealthy for more than a decade.
• Anand says most clients come to her after failing to find success with traditional therapy.
• She emphasizes the importance of taking action, shifting motivations, and contributing to others.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Aprajita Anand, 41, a life coach in New York City. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I've been a life coach for children of the ultrawealthy for 12 years. I started on this career path very organically. I was working as a tutor in New York City, largely supporting wealthy students, and I found them to be emotionally struggling in profound ways.

Society often dismisses them as spoiled rich kids who are perhaps unworthy of sympathy, though I think this assumption makes them a strangely underserved population.

Therefore, I pivoted into life coaching and dedicated my career to helping my students —teens and young adults — navigate the core issues their wealth brings.

Most of my clients have the same story

Problems typically arise when the child encounters rejection, failure, or a struggle that cannot be solved with money.

Many of these problems are social in nature, such as a breakup or excommunication from a friend group or even more systemic issues like racism.

This shock response is commonly followed up by a withdrawal from academic, social, or family life in which they numb themselves with social media, video games, drugs, online shopping, or another behavior of choice.

The parents' first response is often to send their child to a therapist or psychiatrist. I'm a huge believer in therapy, but in some cases, these children end up feeling even more lost and despondent because they're sitting in their feelings and don't know what to do with them. They may wonder how they have every advantage in the world yet are still unable to escape from difficult emotions, which can cause them to sink deeper into their numbing behaviors.

This is often the point when parents bring their children to me.

3 steps to overcoming the 3 biggest issues

In my experience, much of traditional talk therapy is about processing feelings and breaking down thinking patterns. I use some of those elements as a life coach, but I emphasize taking action. I've developed a curriculum to guide young people through three core problems with three core actions.

1. Shift to an internal point of control

Many of my clients fall into a victim mindset, believing they are at the mercy of an unkind world. I empower them to understand they can choose how they respond to any situation.

I had a student who didn't get into her first-choice college, which was difficult for her because it was possibly her first major rejection.

She begrudgingly went to her second choice but refused to engage in freshman orientation or socialize with her peers, and locked herself in her room, numbing herself with social media and Netflix. She was causing unnecessary suffering by sitting in a victim mindset.

When we began working together, I focused on helping her take back her locus of control by taking action, any action. The action she wanted to take was to mount a transfer application to her first-choice school. I agreed to support her if she engaged in a mindset shift, which is step number two.

2. Find internal motivation

Our culture generally equates success with relatively superficial trappings like grades, prestigious colleges, flashy jobs, and lots of money.

However, I assumed someone raised in a wealthy environment would feel unburdened by money and free to live a life of indulgence, free from expectation. To my surprise, my students feel the opposite. They live in an environment that reinforces the idea that money and status are their source of worth.

So, in my client's case, going to a very good school instead of a great school was a complete failure.

While she waited to hear back about her transfer applications, I encouraged her to tap into positive things in her current environment and engage in things that brought her joy. She reluctantly started attending an interest-based club and started going to her professor's office hours just to talk about big ideas on her mind. Slowly, she began to feel like a member of the campus community.

At the end of that year, she got accepted into her first-choice college and ultimately rejected the offer. She had changed her motivation from external to internal and decided the personal reward was greater than the status.

3. Contribute to someone else's well-being

Many of my clients have never had to work, clean, or think about anyone other than themselves. But the amount of time they spend thinking about themselves can be exhausting.

I advise my students to find a way to contribute to someone else's life, such as volunteering with a professional organization or simply helping with chores around the house.

In the case of the student, she took a leadership position in her sorority and ended up loving her role of helping recruits settle into the community.

Contributing to something greater is a positive, healthy way to put down personal problems and find joy in helping someone else. I make sure they understand it's not to pad their résumé or check off a box; it's necessary for building a meaningful life.

If you work with children of the ultrawealthy and would like to share your expertise, please email Tess Martinelli at [email protected].

• Ultra-processed foods are linked to health issues including obesity and type 2 diabetes.
• Dietitian Nichola Ludlam-Raine wrote a book on UPFs and has two young children.
• Ludlam-Raine focuses on feeding her children nutrient-dense foods, but said UPFs can be part of a balanced diet.

As a dietitian who has written a book on ultra-processed foods and a mother of two, Nichola Ludlam-Raine has a few tricks for getting kids to eat a nutritious diet.

With "How Not to Eat Ultra-Processed," which was published earlier this year, she aims to demystify UPFs and help readers find a healthy balance between processed and whole foods.

Ludlam-Raine told Business Insider she takes a similarly balanced approach to feeding her two children, aged six and three. However, children are not just small adults and have different requirements, she said.

UPFs — generally considered to be foods involving ingredients and processes you wouldn't find in a typical home kitchen — have been linked to various health issues in adults, such as obesity and type 2 diabetes. A 2023 review of studies by researchers at the Federal University of São Paulo found children who consume more UPFs are more likely to be overweight and develop cardiovascular health issues and gum disease.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends limiting the consumption of heavily processed foods. However, an estimated 70% of baby food in the US is ultra-processed.

Ludlam-Raine explained what parents need to know about feeding their children, and the tips and tricks she uses with her kids.

Think about how nutritious a food is, not just if it's a UPF

Ludlam-Raine thinks parents shouldn't panic if their children are eating UPFs that are still nutritious, such as fruit yogurts, wholemeal bread, and baked beans (a kitchen staple for many in the UK, where she is based).

She believes it's more important to keep an eye on kids' intakes of foods that are high in fat, sugar, or salt (and low in fiber and nutrients) rather than worrying too much about whether a food is technically a UPF.

Sugar isn't a UPF, but that doesn't mean you should consume it with abandon, Ludlam-Raine said.

"There are plenty of non-UPF foods that kids shouldn't be having in excess, things like butter, cream, and sugar," Ludlam-Raine said. Sugar can lead to tooth decay, while too much high-fat food can lead to excess weight.

And while adults are becoming more aware of the benefits of increasing their protein and fiber intake, she said children don't need anywhere near as much.

For example, US guidelines advise that girls aged between two and four should consume two to four ounces of foods containing protein per day. Too much protein can put stress on the liver and kidneys of children, and make them more prone to dehydration.

"As long as they're having a predominantly whole food diet with their five portions of fruit and veg a day, the odd amount of UPF — healthy or less nutritious — is fine," Ludlam-Raine said.

However, Ludlam-Raine added that she would pay more attention to ingredients were she based in the US, where food regulations are more relaxed.

"Things are really highly and tightly regulated here as opposed to in America where I would not buy certain things like brightly colored foods," she said.

Earlier this year, California banned red No. 40 and five other chemicals from public school foods, and food dye and UPFs are a focus for President-elect Donald Trump's controversial pick for the position of Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

Make 'snack plates' combining treats and whole foods

If your child wants a cookie, saying no can backfire.

Allowing occasional treats in moderation is important to prevent unhealthy relationships with food later in life, Ludlam-Raine said, and research suggests that restricting foods such as sweet treats can lead to children ultimately overeating them.

"It's not about banning these foods because if you ban foods then that can lead to secret eating and binge eating in the future," she said.

This is why she often makes snack plates for her children that incorporate both the treat they want and more nutrient-dense whole foods.

"I add fruit, veggie sticks like peppers, breadsticks, nut butter, and biscuits or Pom Bears. So he has his preferred food that he wants alongside more nutritious foods and it's fine," Ludlam-Raine said. (In the UK, cookies are called biscuits, and Pom Bears are a type of British potato chip.)

At first Ludlam-Raine's son wouldn't eat the vegetable sticks, but now does. Making the plates look colorful and appealing also helps, she said.

"He really likes running fast," Ludlam-Raine said. "So I tell him that if he wants to run fast, you have to eat these types of foods for energy. So he understands that he's fueling himself."

Be a role model

Ludlam-Raine's three-year-old daughter is a fussy eater but she's found that modeling healthy eating has helped a lot. For this reason, the family eats all together at least once a day, she said.

"Role modeling, eating your broccoli and vegetables at dinnertime, sitting down as a family, that has really worked with my daughter. It's amazing to see," Ludlam-Raine said. "She's seeing that I'm eating the broccoli and then she's copying her brother and me."

A 2023 study published in JAMA Network Open suggested that longer family mealtimes can increase how much nutritious food children eat.

Ludlam-Raine added it's important to understand your child's boundaries. For example, her son doesn't like vegetables added to dishes such as bolognese, but he will gladly eat them on the side.

Be patient and expose children to whole foods multiple times

Just because a child doesn't eat something the first time doesn't mean they never will, Ludlam-Raine said.

"Before, my son used to just eat plain breadsticks but he saw me dipping them into nut butter and now he does it," she said. "It takes a few exposures, but then they come round to it."

Research suggests that repeatedly putting disliked foods in front of children can increase the likelihood they will accept them, but it can take 10 to 15 exposures.

• I have two children, and neither of them wants kids.
• I understand and respect their decision.
• However, I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I won't have grandchildren.

I will never be a grandmother.

I'm not being dramatic, this is just a fact. I'm 45 years old, and I have two children, ages 25 and 18. Neither child plans on having any kids of their own. In fact, the older one is so sure about not having kids that she scheduled herself for surgical sterilization.

I know many of their friends also have similar feelings about being a parent. And who can blame the younger generations for not wanting kids? With the climate crisis, divisive politics, and school shootings, I often wonder why anyone would want to bring a child into the world right now.

Birth rates are down, and I understand why

In the United States, the birth rate has been decreasing fairly consistently over the last decade and has recently reached a historic low. But it's not just here — the birth rate is down in Japan, France, Italy, South Korea, and many other places, too.

By 2030, it's projected that at least one in five US residents will be 65 or older. As US Census Bureau demographer Jonathan Vespa stated in a press release, that would be the first time in US history that older people would outnumber children. In light of those statistics, it seems many others may be joining me over here on the grandchildless side of the demographics.

I actually never gave much thought to the idea of being — or not being — a grandmother in the past. Though I wasn't pining away for my future grandchildren, it also always seemed like a given. The natural order of things, if you will. I thought I'd grow up, have kids, be a grandma, then die.

I thought it was simple, but it isn't.

My kids would be great parents, but I respect their choice to remain child-free

My kids are awesome; they are such cool people with unique outlooks on the world, and I think they both would have made amazing parents. However, I am 100% on board with their reasons for not wanting any offspring.

When they told me they may not want to have kids, it wasn't a shocking revelation. They've pretty much always said they didn't want to be parents. When they were younger, I assumed they would change their minds as they aged. And mostly, I didn't have any major feelings about it. As it became clear it was not a phase, that neither of them would be having kids in the future, I still didn't have strong feelings. I know they are making reasonable, logical conclusions.

My future looks different from how I thought it would

However, there are still times when I see the elderly version of myself hanging out on my front porch, yelling at a gaggle of grandchildren to get out of my flowerbeds. (Note: I don't have any flowerbeds, either.)

Each time I see that version of myself, I'm reminded that she will never be me. But It isn't grief exactly, more like a jarring type of confusion. My brain has to revise the list of things I thought I'd do: Grow up —check. Have kids — check. Be a grandma — nope.

It's like my brain is buffering, trying to compute the data. There's still part of me that thinks that checklist is the way it's "supposed to be." But my life won't turn out that way. A lot of our lives won't.

Maybe we'll all collectively mourn, or maybe all of us grandchildless old women will find that we actually like not having to spend our waning years entertaining toddlers again. Maybe we'll all handle it differently. Who knows? Just because it's a milestone we thought we'd reach when we were younger doesn't mean we can't reimagine what our lives can be.

Instead of grandparenting, perhaps, we will spend our 50s, 60s, and 70s traveling the world, learning to paint, or overthrowing the patriarchy. It sounds like we'll have a lot of free time on our hands to do whatever we want to do.