GRANDCHILDREN ARE HARDER
I read a lot of blogs written by stay at home, and some working Moms (Mums across the ocean). One consistent theme seems to be how difficult it is raising their children. Mind you there is no bellyaching and most of these posts are funny as blazes. They bring back memories hidden behind my left cerebellum where I expected to lose them.
These blogs do get me to thinking. I have been visited this week (on my vacation) by all five of my grandchildren. Three are up from North Carolina. There is Tommy, nine, a future lawyer, Halley, six, a future ballerina, and Graham, three, a future politician. Coming from Pennsylvania are Cole, two, a future violin player and Connor, one, and a future…hmmm we don’t know yet. The Cranky Old Man, sixty-five and a future Wal-Mart greeter, is claiming that Grandchildren are harder than children.I worry a lot more about my Grandchildren than I did about my children. I grant you, if I misplaced one of my own children I would have been upset, but I would have only had my wife to deal with. If you misplace a grandchild you have your wife, a DAUGHTER or SON, and a slew of in-laws to whom you owe some explaining. I am pretty sure all these people would be really pissed off! I would rather eat glass. The pressure is much greater than when I had to watch my own. I watch these five as if they were paper money in a room full of Gypsies (that just cost me a follower, sorry Lola from Transylvania.)
Children are easy to discipline. It is your duty to spoil grandchildren; how can you discipline them? Furthermore it is impossible to watch your daughter or son discipline the grandchildren. They live hours away; I don’t get to see them that often. When they are on time-out, I am on time-out. I hate being on time-out. (In my day time-out was time hiding out from the old man and his belt! I loved my old man; his belt…not so much.)My son and daughter have strange rules that I have to follow. No soda, only give them organic food, no spanking, no duct taping their mouths shut, no whiskey to sooth teething. They have to sleep on their back their first year, they must ride in car seats, and they wear helmets for riding anything on wheels. These kids all have to wear shoes outside, they can’t play in the street and you can’t watch them if you are not sober. So many rules, how can you remember them all?
Parents are immune to their children’s cuteness. As a grandfather I am affected by giant grins, big hugs, tickling, teasing, jumping and skipping. Crocodile tears kill me. I know what these kids are doing, but I can’t help myself; I have to wave the white flag whenever I see these tears.
Tommy is way too smart, Halley is a clone of her Mother, and Graham is a two year old little man. Graham speaks a secret language which only Tommy and Halley can interpret. Cole is a little sneak, but he is sooo cute, and Connor just started to walk. These five are a delight, but they are way more difficult to watch and care for as a grandparent. It is hard enough worrying about my grandchildren, but I also have to worry about my son and daughter. After all, they are not even forty. What the Hell do they know about raising children?
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