Quick Update: a few days ago Grandma's sister, Aunt H, called me to warn me that Grandma had snuck her son into a family event so he could see two of his children (he has five kids by three women; our girls are his youngest two). She'd begged us to allow her to take the girls, by herself, to this same event. So, she'd been actively trying to give her child-molesting son contact with our two young daughters. I need to remember this fact every time she asks for any contact with the girls.
I was remembering this at the Christmas Eve service at the church last night. The girls were performers in the pageant (a sheep and a dog) and after I'd been given a program I realized that their names were probably in it. Grandma didn't have a program. I felt this cold chill and realized that if she took a program with her then she'd probably give it to her son, who lives with her, and then he'd see our last names in print. So, I hid my program and we went through the service without a program, unable to do the responsive readings, get the hymn numbers to sing, etc. And all the while terrified that some kindly soul would see us not participating and offer us a program so we could join in.
I hate that this is what I was focused on during my daughters' first Christmas Pageant. I hate that I ever trusted her enough tell her our name or invite her to our home last summer. I mean, she's probably already passed all this information on to her son already. She probably gave it to him as soon as I gave it to her. My concern over the program was probably silly. But what if...? What if she'd kept this one promise to us and then the program did get into her son's hands so he found out after all...?
Trust is such a fragile thing. All I ever wanted was to build a basic relationship with her, for the sake of the girls. I was wrong. I wish we'd never done anything. There's a reason she never got custody of these girls.
During that phone call with Aunt she told me lots more about Grandma. Like that fact that she's been evicted again, is a hoarder, etc.
In the year that we've known her she's lived at least three places she'd call home plus bounced among many, many people's houses for a night or a weekend in between. Every single time she visits the girls she brings them stuff--clothes or toys. She talks incessantly about shopping and that she brings stuff to all her grandchildren every time she sees them.
About two weeks before Christmas, after our last visit where she talked about getting gifts for each member of our family, I worked hard composing the gentlest email I could asking her to refrain from doing that. I talked about valuing experiences over stuff, no playroom for the kids and already overflowing dresser drawers and toy bins, etc.
I might as well have been farting in the wind. Grandma made three trips from her car into our house with armloads of gifts--and then, when she thought I wasn't looking, she snuck in another bag and hid it under the table. (Please, someone explain the value of sneaking in a gift she knows I'll see eventually? Did that moment of undermining me give her a little thrill? Can't she think ahead to the fact that I'll be angry when I do find it? )
So, I'm angry that she didn't respect my request for less stuff. (Incidentally, if she just wasn't bringing them 2-3 bags of crap EVERY TWO WEEKS ALREADY I wouldn't care how much she'd brought this Christmas. What she brought this Christmas, 3-4 gifts for each little kid and 1 gift for each big boy, was a totally reasonable amount for a grandma to bring. The problem is that she has already been sending me to Goodwill to offload her "gifts" every month for the past year!)
I want to be charitable and understand that she has very few real relationships in her life and that it's very meaningful to her to be The Giver of Gifts and she loves it when the kids get excited about what she's brought.
I also believe that now that I've pretty blatantly said I give away stuff she brings that I can continue this practice guilt-free and that's all I really wanted. So long as I, essentially, have her permission to get rid of the items after she's had her big moment as The Giver then I can let go of my angst over ditching the stuff. I still believe her habits are deeply unhealthy and this is yet another reason to limit her contact with the girls, but at least I don't have to get emotionally wrapped up in her illness myself.
(Because, isn't that what sneaking the final bag inside was all about--winding me up in her constant need to create drama rather than invest in authentic, adult relationships?)
I was remembering this at the Christmas Eve service at the church last night. The girls were performers in the pageant (a sheep and a dog) and after I'd been given a program I realized that their names were probably in it. Grandma didn't have a program. I felt this cold chill and realized that if she took a program with her then she'd probably give it to her son, who lives with her, and then he'd see our last names in print. So, I hid my program and we went through the service without a program, unable to do the responsive readings, get the hymn numbers to sing, etc. And all the while terrified that some kindly soul would see us not participating and offer us a program so we could join in.
I hate that this is what I was focused on during my daughters' first Christmas Pageant. I hate that I ever trusted her enough tell her our name or invite her to our home last summer. I mean, she's probably already passed all this information on to her son already. She probably gave it to him as soon as I gave it to her. My concern over the program was probably silly. But what if...? What if she'd kept this one promise to us and then the program did get into her son's hands so he found out after all...?
Trust is such a fragile thing. All I ever wanted was to build a basic relationship with her, for the sake of the girls. I was wrong. I wish we'd never done anything. There's a reason she never got custody of these girls.
During that phone call with Aunt she told me lots more about Grandma. Like that fact that she's been evicted again, is a hoarder, etc.
In the year that we've known her she's lived at least three places she'd call home plus bounced among many, many people's houses for a night or a weekend in between. Every single time she visits the girls she brings them stuff--clothes or toys. She talks incessantly about shopping and that she brings stuff to all her grandchildren every time she sees them.
About two weeks before Christmas, after our last visit where she talked about getting gifts for each member of our family, I worked hard composing the gentlest email I could asking her to refrain from doing that. I talked about valuing experiences over stuff, no playroom for the kids and already overflowing dresser drawers and toy bins, etc.
I might as well have been farting in the wind. Grandma made three trips from her car into our house with armloads of gifts--and then, when she thought I wasn't looking, she snuck in another bag and hid it under the table. (Please, someone explain the value of sneaking in a gift she knows I'll see eventually? Did that moment of undermining me give her a little thrill? Can't she think ahead to the fact that I'll be angry when I do find it? )
So, I'm angry that she didn't respect my request for less stuff. (Incidentally, if she just wasn't bringing them 2-3 bags of crap EVERY TWO WEEKS ALREADY I wouldn't care how much she'd brought this Christmas. What she brought this Christmas, 3-4 gifts for each little kid and 1 gift for each big boy, was a totally reasonable amount for a grandma to bring. The problem is that she has already been sending me to Goodwill to offload her "gifts" every month for the past year!)
I want to be charitable and understand that she has very few real relationships in her life and that it's very meaningful to her to be The Giver of Gifts and she loves it when the kids get excited about what she's brought.
I also believe that now that I've pretty blatantly said I give away stuff she brings that I can continue this practice guilt-free and that's all I really wanted. So long as I, essentially, have her permission to get rid of the items after she's had her big moment as The Giver then I can let go of my angst over ditching the stuff. I still believe her habits are deeply unhealthy and this is yet another reason to limit her contact with the girls, but at least I don't have to get emotionally wrapped up in her illness myself.
(Because, isn't that what sneaking the final bag inside was all about--winding me up in her constant need to create drama rather than invest in authentic, adult relationships?)
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