I invited grandma to join us at church on Easter Sunday. She had given me a beautiful Easter dress for Kate to wear and Theo and I are committed to including birth family in special moments as often as possible. It seemed like a sweet idea to let her be there when people oohed and ahhed over the girls in their Easter finest.
(This first part is an aside but so bizarre I have to include it in the full story. Grandma was about 20 minutes late. The congregation was seated and the service well underway when I noticed heads around me turning to stare. I looked too and spotted what appeared to be a very angry, slightly demented lady pacing up and down every single aisle staring at people. Oh. My. God. It's grandma. She's looking for me. I never dreamed she'd do such a thing. The church held about 300 people and had 4 aisles--she went all the way to the front of each one searching. I was seated in the last section she approached.
It took all my courage and integrity to weakly wave my hand and get her attention so she could find me. I was humiliated. I've only been attending about a year. This is an upper class congregation of professional people. Now I was connecting myself to the crazy lady who clearly has no idea how to behave in a public setting.
Once she saw me and sat down she started to, loudly, tell me about how her GPS took her to the wrong place first. I had to forcibly shush her. People were staring! It was a moment to force myself to hold my head high and make a conscious decision not to be upset.
Subtext: grandma is frustrated that I haven't given her my cell number. She only has an email address, which she regularly blows up at odd hours of the night in what I'm pretty sure are drunken rants because it reads like voice-to-text from very slurred speech--so, no, she does not yet have my cell number. I hope one day she'll understand who we are and how we operate and what our boundaries are, but it's too soon for her to have these kinds of conversations with us and accept our limits so we have to provide them for her by limiting her access to us.)
But, after that disastrous start things got much better. Grandma was nice and joyful. She loved seeing the girls all dressed up. I introduced her to the pastor and other important people who complimented her on her beautiful granddaughters. She participated in the Easter egg hunt and then shared snacks with us. We took pictures. I'm genuinely glad she was there. It was (pretty much) the kind of event I hope we can always have.
But two little things also happened that clarify for me what it's going to be like to "share" these girls with her.
First, after Jane's rudeness at our last visit I'd told her that if she ever behaved that way again the visit would end immediately and she'd go home. Well, as soon as I walked away from Jane and grandma to get juice, Jane obviously told her that. Grandma confronted me about it when I returned. I looked Jane in the eye and confirmed everything. I will not allow a 3 yr old to elicit support from grandma in my parenting decisions. And she needed to see that clearly and immediately. Jane looked abashed by my bold statements to grandma's face and it's a good thing, too.
Lesson: Jane is, and probably will be for a a very long time to come, testing relationships and looking to see who overrules whom. Can grandma make me back down? Who is the final authority? Well, it's me, baby girl, and it will always be me as long as you're under my roof.
Second, grandma asked me how the girls are eating and sleeping. She's asked these questions several times now. I think she's just trying to think of parenty-type topics and she doesn't have a real grasp on how to have those kinds of conversations. I blandly confirmed that yes, they're good sleepers and eaters without much detail and then introduced something specific to discuss. Grandma made a comment about this being an improvement because they used to be picky eaters. (I cannot picture two girls who'd happily out-eat me at every meal and have dug enthusiastically into every food I've ever given them being picky, but, okay, whatever.)
Fast forward to the very next meal back home and Jane says she "doesn't like" a food I give her that I know she's happily eaten dozens of times. The power of suggestion. Grandma says she's picky and now she is. Thanks, grandma.
Again, I shut this down immediately. Without making a big deal I let her know she won't be leaving the table until she eats her food. I'm not picking a fight but I'm also not allowing grandma's influence to effect what happens at my dining room table. Jane dallies about 10 extra minutes but in the end does eat the food.
Lesson: I will be unwinding whatever grandma starts up after every visit. It seriously makes me want to cut her off and never allow her to see the girls again. My life would be SO much easier if we did that.
But for right now I know we need to dig in and keep going. I hope that we can bring grandma around. I hope she can see how we parent and join us. I hope she'll be an ally in raising these girls. I hope these are just the hard, initial days but after we do the work we'll eventually arrive in a good place.
I hope.
(This first part is an aside but so bizarre I have to include it in the full story. Grandma was about 20 minutes late. The congregation was seated and the service well underway when I noticed heads around me turning to stare. I looked too and spotted what appeared to be a very angry, slightly demented lady pacing up and down every single aisle staring at people. Oh. My. God. It's grandma. She's looking for me. I never dreamed she'd do such a thing. The church held about 300 people and had 4 aisles--she went all the way to the front of each one searching. I was seated in the last section she approached.
It took all my courage and integrity to weakly wave my hand and get her attention so she could find me. I was humiliated. I've only been attending about a year. This is an upper class congregation of professional people. Now I was connecting myself to the crazy lady who clearly has no idea how to behave in a public setting.
Once she saw me and sat down she started to, loudly, tell me about how her GPS took her to the wrong place first. I had to forcibly shush her. People were staring! It was a moment to force myself to hold my head high and make a conscious decision not to be upset.
Subtext: grandma is frustrated that I haven't given her my cell number. She only has an email address, which she regularly blows up at odd hours of the night in what I'm pretty sure are drunken rants because it reads like voice-to-text from very slurred speech--so, no, she does not yet have my cell number. I hope one day she'll understand who we are and how we operate and what our boundaries are, but it's too soon for her to have these kinds of conversations with us and accept our limits so we have to provide them for her by limiting her access to us.)
But, after that disastrous start things got much better. Grandma was nice and joyful. She loved seeing the girls all dressed up. I introduced her to the pastor and other important people who complimented her on her beautiful granddaughters. She participated in the Easter egg hunt and then shared snacks with us. We took pictures. I'm genuinely glad she was there. It was (pretty much) the kind of event I hope we can always have.
But two little things also happened that clarify for me what it's going to be like to "share" these girls with her.
First, after Jane's rudeness at our last visit I'd told her that if she ever behaved that way again the visit would end immediately and she'd go home. Well, as soon as I walked away from Jane and grandma to get juice, Jane obviously told her that. Grandma confronted me about it when I returned. I looked Jane in the eye and confirmed everything. I will not allow a 3 yr old to elicit support from grandma in my parenting decisions. And she needed to see that clearly and immediately. Jane looked abashed by my bold statements to grandma's face and it's a good thing, too.
Lesson: Jane is, and probably will be for a a very long time to come, testing relationships and looking to see who overrules whom. Can grandma make me back down? Who is the final authority? Well, it's me, baby girl, and it will always be me as long as you're under my roof.
Second, grandma asked me how the girls are eating and sleeping. She's asked these questions several times now. I think she's just trying to think of parenty-type topics and she doesn't have a real grasp on how to have those kinds of conversations. I blandly confirmed that yes, they're good sleepers and eaters without much detail and then introduced something specific to discuss. Grandma made a comment about this being an improvement because they used to be picky eaters. (I cannot picture two girls who'd happily out-eat me at every meal and have dug enthusiastically into every food I've ever given them being picky, but, okay, whatever.)
Fast forward to the very next meal back home and Jane says she "doesn't like" a food I give her that I know she's happily eaten dozens of times. The power of suggestion. Grandma says she's picky and now she is. Thanks, grandma.
Again, I shut this down immediately. Without making a big deal I let her know she won't be leaving the table until she eats her food. I'm not picking a fight but I'm also not allowing grandma's influence to effect what happens at my dining room table. Jane dallies about 10 extra minutes but in the end does eat the food.
Lesson: I will be unwinding whatever grandma starts up after every visit. It seriously makes me want to cut her off and never allow her to see the girls again. My life would be SO much easier if we did that.
But for right now I know we need to dig in and keep going. I hope that we can bring grandma around. I hope she can see how we parent and join us. I hope she'll be an ally in raising these girls. I hope these are just the hard, initial days but after we do the work we'll eventually arrive in a good place.
I hope.
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