Being a grandmother can be hard work. It is easy to love grandchildren when they are minding, when you are cuddling with them first thing in the morning or hearing their prayers at night. But when they are being royal pains — or purposefully disobeying — it is hard.
A grandmother’s first job is to love her grandchildren half crazy, to spoil them rotten. And that’s great (and great fun, as well). But when you share their home and are with them nearly all the time, the parenting part of grandparenting has to kick in.
I admit to being a bit of a pushover when it comes to my granddaughters. I love sweetness and light; discipline is not my strong point. But they have to understand that I mean what I say, that I wouldn’t tell them what to do (or not to do) without a reason.
So tonight we left a lovely concert early because Granddaughter #2 decided she didn’t have to listen to her Grammy. And when she wailed on the drive home that, “You are blaming me for us leaving,” I told her, “We aren’t blaming you. We left because you wouldn’t listen and I couldn’t keep you safe that way.”
Tomorrow is another day.