Schooling (with) Grampa

Both of my grandchildren are brilliant (they get that from BOTH sides of the family). They love dancing. That's pretty much where the similarity ends. Jolie is compliant and a pleaser the great majority of the time. So much so that I have to resist the urge to automatically take her side in any disagreement. She just got straight A's again on her final 5th grade report card. Jeslyn's second grade card was all "very good" or "outstanding", which represents a tremendous deal of growth on her part. I'm proud of both of them, love them to death, and feel so fortunate that they live so close, knowing a lot of my contemporaries don't have that luxury.

But (you knew there would be a "but"), Jes spends a lot of her time saying, "I'm sorry," either because we make her do so or she realizes she has crossed the line. Today was one of those times, and I'm realizing it's so much harder for me to be consistent with her than I was with Jen or Tim. They had a sleepover last night and were absolutely perfect. Got up this morning, entertained themselves until we got up, and it was time to go to breakfast. Jan and Jen had decided to meet at 9 at Corner Bakery, to turn over the girls so Jen could take them with her to help at Dream Dinners. Jeslyn, "I just went to Corner Bakery yesterday." Mom and Jan decided that a local diner, Papa Z's would work out best for timing and location. Jeslyn: "I'm not going to Papa Z's," and bullied her way into a trip to Coco's. This while planning what time Grampa would take her swimming when Dream Dinners was over. I decided it would be best if I didn't accompany them to Coco's and decided to ride my bike instead. Past Coco's. After a couple of loops, I decided to join them, not wanting to eat but wanting to spend time with them. First words from Jeslyn, "Sorry, Grampa, will you still take me swimming?" About two minutes later she threw a mini-tantrum about the smell of Jan's spinach omelette. I left.

I worked in the shed for awhile, exchanging winter clothing for summer clothing, and the girls arrived to pick up their stuff before heading for dream dinners. Jeslyn had written an apology. I refused to take it. She put it on the bed and said, "Read it." It was, "Sorry Grampa, will you still take me swimming. I'll promise to do better." Jan, to me: "Don't you give in and take her swimming." She also said, "Be mad at her, but don't stop loving her." Like that could ever happen. I also feel guilty NOT accepting her apology, knowing the limitless times God allows me to say, "I'm sorry." I tell her, "Wouldn't it be nice if you behaved in a way that made it not necessary to say you were sorry?" And God whispers, "Would you listen to yourself?!"

So I told her that as of right now, she wasn't going swimming. That I was going to require her to do something to show how badly she wanted to swim. It may be something as simple as writing 50 times, "I do not make the rules, I'm 7." I may make her read this blog (cruel and unusual punishment, I know). Ultimately my job as a grandparent is not to raise her. That's Jen and Jeff's job, and they are great at it. My job is to love her and try to make my correction in line with what they would do. I'm thankful she's not the type of child to say, "Go ahead and tell them, I don't care." The fear of Daddy is a wonderful thing. But it's tough to live with a perfect older sibling. Ask my son.

So off to Dream Dinners. I was thinking Dr. Dobson would have been proud of me for establishing boundaries. And we both would have been vindicated by her parting shot, which also reminded me who really was in charge: She blew me a kiss.