Knee-Deep in
Granddaughters; Considering Frontal Lobotomy
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What was I thinking? Three weeks
with granddaughters, six and eight; fun and sweetness; creating memories to
treasure all our years; my fantasy-laden imagination worked overtime.
Truly, the train ride with Lexi met
all my expectations. Oh, except the moments in the dining car when she blithely
blurted out all the family secrets to total strangers who pumped her for
details, to the delight of everyone within ear shot.
On our arrival the little cousins
greeted each other, bouncing and jumping with glee, hugs and non-stop chatter.
The first day was a joy, indeed. The girls were glued to one another, exploring
their own worlds, leaving we adults to enjoy grown-up time. Heaven gets no better
than this, I thought, as we sat at the picnic table in the yard watching two
female “Tiggers” bouncing on the trampoline. Ah, life is good.
By evening the second day, the wind
changed. The little darlings grew fangs and sprouted claws. We adults listened
to thirty seconds of who, what and whys before instituting time-out.
Personally, I thought the time-out not nearly long enough. After a too-short
time of separation, the girls, best-friend status renewed, arms around one
another’s shoulders, took turns reading books.
The third day required three
time-out periods. The older one displayed a surprising demonstration of rage
for our edification while the younger one had an emotional melt-down with
trauma and drama equal to a nuclear reactor failure. Antoinette went to bed
with her mother. Lexi went to bed with me. The majority of us were in tears.
I hardly slept. My mind revolved
around a circle of worries and solutions. Worries dominated. Worries were easy.
Was Lexi too young for a three week trip away from home? Of course, she is.
Lexi and I have spent weeks alone, but in the comfort of her own familiar
surroundings. I must have lost my mind to bring her two thousand miles from
home.
Believe me, I thought the whole
thing through. Both girls are alphas, only children used to being alone, in
control of their elders, and not sharing Mom or Grandma with others. Lexi and I
were invaders. We moved in for an extended stay. Antoinette suddenly had to
share her Mom with not only a little rug rat but also with Grandma, who took up
way more of Mom’s attention than she deemed necessary.
Solutions? There are no solutions,
woman. Well, how could I have known? It has been too many years since I had to
deal with little kids and their emotional ups and downs.
I considered flying home with Lexi
the next day. That would be a break a toe, cut off the leg sort of solution. I
never told you I didn’t think in extremes. But I had sense enough not to act
upon my first impulse. I have learned one or two things after living all these
years.
Meanwhile, my daughter had a chat
with Antoinette. “I get it, Mom. I get it. Having a cousin live with you is
just like having a sister. You can’t send her home when you get tired of her.”
Life has leveled out for us. The
girls still generally need a time-out or two each day. Usually, the girls
determine when they need a break from one another. If they miss the signals, we
catch them. We throw the little darlings in the pool every afternoon and that
helps. When the sun goes down and their lips turn blue, we let them out for
dinner. We jump them into jammies and count the minutes until bed time.
My appointment with the brain
surgeon for a “frontal lobotomy” is on hold. I cancelled a trip to the local
watering hole for a “bottle-in=front=of-me”. So far I've gone to bed in tears
only one night but the future holds no guarantees. One week down and two to go.
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
August 7,
2014
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