Children don’t come with user manuals. I’m not sure how to even approach writing one. Each child is different. What works with one won’t work for another. It seems like each time I figured one of my Things out, got a routine that worked, they changed and/or outgrew it. What worked for one didn’t work for another. Frustrating isn’t the right word, but I try really hard not to cuss when writing about the kids. Believe me, it takes effort.
Grandchildren don’t come with a user manual either. There -is- no “One size fits all.” That’s part of the wonderful awesomeness of grandchildren.
Spoiling them is a gimme. Spoiling them like we -wanted- to spoil our kids, but didn’t because of the repercussions, for them and us, is our reward for surviving our kid’s childhood. Would I give my Things’ too much sugar? No. But I’ll let a grandchild hit the bubble gum machine, bake brownies, cookies, keep a candy bowl ready… Oh, yeah. Oh, -yeah-!
All this to preface a lesson I learned from my mom.
My boys’ weren’t bad, but they were a handful. I’m sure my grandmother would say I was too (not bad, but a handful, just to clarify). My mom used the boys’ to her advantage.
About once a year, when the Things’ were little, my mom volunteered (YES, -volunteered-, asked, requested) to take my monsters’ out for ice cream. Four boys on a sugar high is not a pretty picture.
She then took her car in to have the oil changed, tires rotated, maintenance... and turned the Things loose in the waiting room.
Gramma got tip-top, quick service. In and out.
That might be a start to a grandparent manual
- Bess Tuggle