Tags
children, Family, grandparenting, grandparents, memoir, Parenting
I’m writing for the first time in months—my granddaughter started preschool today. She’ll be going twice a week now. I miss her already.
I haven’t had time for writing or anything else since she and her dad came to live with us five months ago. Caring for her has stirred up my world in all sorts of ways, and nothing has really settled yet. The past, the present, the future swirl around in my mind, some bright and sweet, some dark and scary.
I love her beyond words and we are very close, maybe too close. What will happen when she and my son move out? Last week he took her unexpectedly for the day and my home seemed so empty and I felt so lost. I didn’t want to do anything—not write, nor read, nor clean, nor paint, nor walk, nor just sit and think, alone, undisturbed—all the things I wish I had time to do when she’s with me. I couldn’t wait till she came home so I could scoop her up and feel her small, sweet body melt into mine.
We spend our days playing and singing and dancing together. It’s filled with sweet cuddles and kisses, silly games puffing our cheeks and popping them together, playing with puzzles and legos and coloring and reading stories. We swim and pick roses and watch Disney movies together. Making up stories and pretending to be kittens and crocodiles. She loves to play hide and seek, where she hides in plain sight and I pretend I can’t find her while she laughs and giggles, and when I do find her, she demands—AGAIN!—and hides in the same place once more.
But by the afternoon, I’m tired. I’m wishing for a few moments alone. I’m wishing she could play by herself for longer than five minutes at a time, stopping her play to look for me, to demand to be held, to read a story, to come back into the room where she’s playing.
I try to get her to nap, but too often it’s late in the afternoon when she does, at 3 or 4 or 5, when I know doing so that late means she won’t want to go to sleep before 9 or 10. More often she doesn’t nap at all.
“Grandma needs quiet time I tell her,” time away from her is what I mean, but she doesn’t understand that, doesn’t understand that demanding my constant attention frazzles me as the day wears on. Even sitting her in front of the TV to watch cartoons (bad grandma!) doesn’t help as much as you’d think—every commercial she looks for me, and it’s the same with movies. “Come watch with me, Gwamma,” she says in her sweet, tender voice, pulling at my arm. My heartstrings tug, and my nerves tighten.
And then there’s the tug-of-wills, where she tests my boundaries, doesn’t listen when I tell her to leave something alone, to not go in there, not do that. I haunt parenting advise forums on the internet looking for ways to discipline, to cope, to mellow.
What did I do when my children were young?
I don’t remember my daughter ever wearing on my nerves with the demand for constant attention, or defying my will the way my granddaughter does now. My son defied my will on a daily basis, but he wasn’t as demanding of my attention as she seems to be. Still, we had our tug-of-wars too. I remember one dark day when I needed him to take a nap so badly and he simply refused to stay in his room. He’d come out, I’d put him in, he’d come out, I’d put him in, over and over again, like puppets in demented play, him crying and me yelling at first, then me crying and him yelling. I thought I was losing my mind. We were stuck in a hysterical repetition, like a broken record that would not stop. I don’t remember how it ended.
I do remember that I let him play in our fenced backyard by himself for long periods of time when he was a toddler, where he had a swing set, and sand box, and lots of toys. Something I can’t do with my granddaughter where we live now. Even so, he “escaped” several times, wandering off down the street—three years old—to visit grandma five blocks away, or to visit the little green store across a busy street.
Once a police officer brought him home to me. I hadn’t even known he’d gone missing.
I was a bad mother. If that had happened today, I would have been arrested. But things looked different back then. Children were encouraged to spend the day outdoors playing, to be independent. Little boys wandering off with a penny in his pocket to buy candy at the neighborhood store was “cute.” It showed his independence and adventurous spirit, not my poor parenting.
The thought of my little three-year-old granddaughter doing something like that today horrifies me. The thought of her living alone with her father on a busy street with chance of unlocked doors giving her access to the great outdoors makes me want to keep her here at home with me forever.
And yet, and yet, the other day my nerves were so frazzled I wanted to lock myself in a closet just to have a few moments alone without her, without hearing that sweet, tender voice calling out, “Gwamma, where are you?” And I wondered: Is this what drives some parents to lock their children in closets? The thought was so mind-chilling I wanted to sit down and cry.
Instead, I gathered my granddaughter in my arms and let her melt against me.
“I didn’t know where you were,” she tells me frowning, holding my face between her small hands.
“Don’t leave me,” she says, as she does several times every day.
“I won’t, baby,” I tell her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
But I will leave her. Or rather, she will leave me eventually, when her father finds a place for them to live that’s closer to town, closer to his work. Will she think I abandoned her, betrayed her?
Part of me longs for the peaceful life we had before they moved in. And part of me is terrified at the thought of them leaving.
Treasure what you have now, I tell myself. Don’t think about the past or the future. Now is where we are. Where my arms and heart are full. And while my poor nerves may get frazzled at times for want of the peace and quiet I sometimes crave, it cannot eclipse the wonder and joy of this child and how she fills my heart with light.
My grandchildren do not live with me. I have them for the weekend occasionally. I love the time I get to spend with them. We go to the library and to the park. We play Frisbee and blow bubbles. And when their parents come to pick them up I enjoy the quiet.
Sounds lovely. That’s how I thought my grandparenting would be too, and it will be, soon enough, I hope.
Oh, Deborah…such a grandmother you are, BECAUSE you were a terrific mother. You might consider what my wife pulled me…no, what we partnered in for our grandkids. We have them all for one week a year (10 in 2015). Camp Mamie-Bapa is prepari g for the 5th camp. You’ll be busy getting ready, then running camp, then creating the memory books/videos…you’ll have them, including your grand daughter, with you all the time! And think of all the stories it will stir in your mind to write about!
I love that–Mami-Bapa camp! What a great idea!
You’re a wonderful grandmother! Most parents let their kids run free 30 years ago; different times! I think there was more of a sense of community. You probably knew that police officer by name so there was more compassion on both ends. There is too much judgment of parents these days who are for the most part doing their best. Great post!
Thank you, Victoria. I worry about parents today when everyone is so judgmental. It did seem like we were more supportive when I was a young mother. I felt bad enough when my youngster “escaped,” but no one else tried to make me feel worse.
Your world right now reflects memories of parenting the first time around…such a blessing/such a demanding responsibility. Hold ’em close, breathe deep and ***remember***
peace
Thank you, Laura. You’re so right.
Nice to hear your voice again – your clear hearted, honest writing. I feel your struggle – so full of heart. And love.
Thank you, Tricia. Feels good to be writing again.
It’s tricky, Deborah, because you’ve been acting as her caregiver, which is so different from the weekend/holiday variety of grandparent. If she has experienced upheaval already in her life, then she must be looking to you for stability and reassurance. You’ve been lavishing her with love and attention, which is wonderful, but I can see how her neediness would be suffocating for you. I wonder is there any way to get her to do some quiet time by rewarding her afterwards? Like, if she sticks to ten minutes of quiet time without calling out to you, then you will play her absolute favorite game with her? Maybe you can build trust while putting up some boundaries, which would be beneficial for both of you.
Good luck striking the balance. You’ve got a huge heart and your granddaughter is so lucky to have you!
So good to hear from you Kerri. She has experienced an upheaval and I know that contributes to her neediness. Those are are good ideas. Ill give it a try. Hope your writing is coming along.
Thanks, Deborah, the writing is going well. It’s great to see you blogging again and I hope you can get back to work on your book soon. I often think of those characters…
I know what you’re going through because I took care of my step-grandkids while they were experiencing a trauma. I often felt I was failing miserably, but the good news is that 10 years later, both kids are doing great. It’s amazing how resilient they are, especially when they have a foundation of love and support like you’re giving your granddaughter. Hang in there…
Grandparenting can only be bright and never dark. How do you feel when you become a grandparent? Nobody can answer this except those who have become grandparents themselves. Any amount reading or listening to others on this won’t give you any idea. This is something to be experienced. Oh God you can’t express your feelings of excitement or happiness in words however strong you are with your vocabulary. I am 84 and I have four grandchildren (three boys and one girl) and now I have a great grandchild also.When my son’s and daughter’s childten were toddlers it was fun real fun to be with them.Initially you find happiness keeping them in your lap. Just looking their innocent face how do they move whether they smile at you etc etc.you are in cloud nine.they slowly grow up. They start sitting up trying to stand up holding on to some prop or one of the parents.They lose balance fall down you are worried but nothing happens to them you feel relieved. Slowly they start walking. The more time you spend with the kid he/she becomes more attached to you and vice versa.you won’t have for anything than spending as much time as possible.life moves on .you on the one hand you do not want the child to grow to be always so innocent lovely and be with you making you forget about everything else.But you this is not posible. Then you want the child to grow faster so that you can go out with the child to seashore or a park to play or to a mall to buy everything the child asks for. It might happen the child breaks some costly item which is so dear to you:: your reaction would make yourself surprising.you wont beat or scold the child instead you would whether anything happened to the child.Go back 20 years try to remember how much you scolded or slapped your child. The whole attitude has changed when you deal with grandchildren. One we got matured (maybe ) or we have learnt how to look after a child with love and affection.Any way to be a grand parent is a blessing more so when one can be parenting also. Later much later it could happen that they grow up and do not care for grandparents at all. Still we preserve the love and affection and go back the memory lane enjoying each second one spent with the grand child.Of course there are many grandchildren who gets closer and closer to you as they grow in years and/or in their official carrier.I am lucky all the four love me even now when they are past their quarter century. Of course it is only God’s blessings. RAGHURAMAN , Kerala, INDIA. With regards..P.S. I loved your posting so much I could not resist answering your good self.Thank yoi
Dear Kerala, thank you so much for commenting here. I loved your stories about your grandchildren and how much joy they’ve brought to your life. You express so well the changing relationship we have with them as they grow older. I’m so glad that all of yours have remained close well into adulthood. Blessings to you and yours.