Oh my goodness my last entry has had interesting responses. They generally fall into two camps - those who think I am, perhaps, losing my mind and those who cheer me on. The latter are mostly from friends who are grandparents, the former are not. I completely understand those who think I am a bit nuts. How can one explain inherent joy in endless repetitions of an activity with a 2-year old? I have decided that, for me, it is the opportunities of grandmotherhood combined with the fact that I have refocused my life.
So, what is so great about being a grandmother? I get a Do-Over. I get a chance to do a better job of how I choose to spend time with a child. When I was a young mother I was so busy, had so many demands on my time, that I did not want to use time I had in repetitious play. It bored me. For example, I internally groaned whenever my children pulled out Candy Land. Oh how I loathed that game. It seemed that every time I got close to the end (a few jumps away from the door to the gingerbread house - you remember it?), and a possible end to my misery, I'd pull the card with the candy hearts and have to go almost all the way back to Start. Much gnashing of teeth. Could I bear to start over? So I figured a way around it. No, I didn't do the obvious - hide the box - but, instead, loaded the cards. I would, oh so casually, plant the melting block of ice cream (the card that took you to the location closest to the end of the trail) about 15 cards down from the top. I would make sure one of the children got it, by the way, to make it less obvious. And, voila, the game ended quickly with great delight on the part of the child who won. I would then suggest we do something else.
Even active play, like hide-and-seek, paled for me after about 20 minutes. Walks were better - the scenery changed, we could talk while we walked - and I spent hundreds of hours as a Girl Scout leader. Campouts, cookie sales and badge work became part of our family life. Lee was young enough that he attended most meetings and went on all the camping trips with the girls. Repetitious play, however, was harder for me. I encouraged my children to entertain themselves or play with friends. While I consider both important life-skills it was also a bit self-serving. It gave me time to complete other tasks.
I was so busy back then. I was a full-time teacher as well as a mother and committed to doing a good job in my classroom. I look back, with a degree of regret, on the hours I spent each week on school work. I wish I didn't remember how often I said, "I can't do that because I have to grade papers." Or, "Later, honey, I have to type up a test." Or "I can't come, I have to stay late for a meeting." I wish the balance I chose to maintain had been one with more time spent with my family.
Gary's illness played another role in my busy-ness. He was diagnosed with MS when we were 32; the children were 5 and 2. Although his disabilities didn't immediately affect our lives, they were waiting around the corner. I had to take on many of Gary's jobs as well as my own. Stress certainly took its toll on my attitude about how I spent my time.
I understand that I did the best I could. There were good reasons for every decision I made and, thankfully, I have many wonderful memories of time spent with my children - and photographs show much time spent togther. I know we laughed a lot. I just wish I could go back and redo some of it.
And now I feel I have been given a second chance. Not with my own daughter, unfortunately, but with her son. This is why my time with Wesley is so precious. This time around, I can do better. Constraints that existed in the past are no longer present. I'm retired, Gary no longer needs me, and other activities can wait. My time is his.
Okay, so that explains my motivation but how can I now endure somewhat mindless play when I couldn't in the past? I think it is the quieter life I lead. I really like having nothing to do so when I do something, I enjoy every minute of it. Ravishankar are you listening? Can you believe this is coming from me? Who knew?
When I am playing with Wesley I love every second of being with him. When we sit on my bed pretending we are on a bus, I love holding him close, smelling his hair, watching expressions flit across his face. I notice the softness of his hand in mine, the sound of his voice, the joy of his gestures. It doesn't really matter that we are singing the same song over and over. I am not paying much attention to that, I just enjoy being with him.
It's the same when we do chores. When we wash dishes, for example, we talk about the feel of the bubbles and the warmth of the water. Our hands splash in delight while we pass silverware to the dish rack. Yes dishes get clean but the process is actually more important.
So, odd as it may seem, I am perfectly content playing with my grandson. Of course, all of this may be hooey. The true test will come when he is old enough to want to play Candy Land. Will my efforts to stay in the moment be strong enough to overcome my aversion to that game? Don't know; it's asking a lot. On the other hand, I think I still possess the slight-of-hand skills needed to fix the cards - or at least I have time to start practicing.
So, what is so great about being a grandmother? I get a Do-Over. I get a chance to do a better job of how I choose to spend time with a child. When I was a young mother I was so busy, had so many demands on my time, that I did not want to use time I had in repetitious play. It bored me. For example, I internally groaned whenever my children pulled out Candy Land. Oh how I loathed that game. It seemed that every time I got close to the end (a few jumps away from the door to the gingerbread house - you remember it?), and a possible end to my misery, I'd pull the card with the candy hearts and have to go almost all the way back to Start. Much gnashing of teeth. Could I bear to start over? So I figured a way around it. No, I didn't do the obvious - hide the box - but, instead, loaded the cards. I would, oh so casually, plant the melting block of ice cream (the card that took you to the location closest to the end of the trail) about 15 cards down from the top. I would make sure one of the children got it, by the way, to make it less obvious. And, voila, the game ended quickly with great delight on the part of the child who won. I would then suggest we do something else.
Even active play, like hide-and-seek, paled for me after about 20 minutes. Walks were better - the scenery changed, we could talk while we walked - and I spent hundreds of hours as a Girl Scout leader. Campouts, cookie sales and badge work became part of our family life. Lee was young enough that he attended most meetings and went on all the camping trips with the girls. Repetitious play, however, was harder for me. I encouraged my children to entertain themselves or play with friends. While I consider both important life-skills it was also a bit self-serving. It gave me time to complete other tasks.
I was so busy back then. I was a full-time teacher as well as a mother and committed to doing a good job in my classroom. I look back, with a degree of regret, on the hours I spent each week on school work. I wish I didn't remember how often I said, "I can't do that because I have to grade papers." Or, "Later, honey, I have to type up a test." Or "I can't come, I have to stay late for a meeting." I wish the balance I chose to maintain had been one with more time spent with my family.
Gary's illness played another role in my busy-ness. He was diagnosed with MS when we were 32; the children were 5 and 2. Although his disabilities didn't immediately affect our lives, they were waiting around the corner. I had to take on many of Gary's jobs as well as my own. Stress certainly took its toll on my attitude about how I spent my time.
I understand that I did the best I could. There were good reasons for every decision I made and, thankfully, I have many wonderful memories of time spent with my children - and photographs show much time spent togther. I know we laughed a lot. I just wish I could go back and redo some of it.
And now I feel I have been given a second chance. Not with my own daughter, unfortunately, but with her son. This is why my time with Wesley is so precious. This time around, I can do better. Constraints that existed in the past are no longer present. I'm retired, Gary no longer needs me, and other activities can wait. My time is his.
Okay, so that explains my motivation but how can I now endure somewhat mindless play when I couldn't in the past? I think it is the quieter life I lead. I really like having nothing to do so when I do something, I enjoy every minute of it. Ravishankar are you listening? Can you believe this is coming from me? Who knew?
When I am playing with Wesley I love every second of being with him. When we sit on my bed pretending we are on a bus, I love holding him close, smelling his hair, watching expressions flit across his face. I notice the softness of his hand in mine, the sound of his voice, the joy of his gestures. It doesn't really matter that we are singing the same song over and over. I am not paying much attention to that, I just enjoy being with him.
It's the same when we do chores. When we wash dishes, for example, we talk about the feel of the bubbles and the warmth of the water. Our hands splash in delight while we pass silverware to the dish rack. Yes dishes get clean but the process is actually more important.
So, odd as it may seem, I am perfectly content playing with my grandson. Of course, all of this may be hooey. The true test will come when he is old enough to want to play Candy Land. Will my efforts to stay in the moment be strong enough to overcome my aversion to that game? Don't know; it's asking a lot. On the other hand, I think I still possess the slight-of-hand skills needed to fix the cards - or at least I have time to start practicing.
I am with you on all of this, Donna!
ReplyDeleteI am not in the slightest bit surprised! We understand.
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