Grandparents Just Don't Understand

It's official.  I'm going to have some serious explaining to do when I die and meet the man upstairs because I did something pretty despicable. 

Let me start from the beginning. *rewinds tape*  A couple of days ago, I took Mamaw and all three kids with me to Wal-Mart.  

Anyway,  this was a horrible episode and was very traumatic for me, especially since Mamaw adds to the chaos by stretching her arms out in every which direction to feel for anything available.  It's not a stretch to say that at some point she is going to grab a stock boy by the testicles and be all, "what IS this?"  For those of you who don't know, Mamaw is blind.  And she's touchy feely.

What I hate to admit is how horribly I handled the situation.  I kept my cool for about three quarters of the trip but then started to bite my tongue and roll my eyes.  Then came the long sighs followed by a small prayer that went something like, "please forgive me Lord, for what I am about to do."  And then I yelled.  Because there is just so much a mother can take on a hot and humid day when her children are out of control and her mother-in-law is feeling up stock boys and there is not a cold beer in sight.

I hate getting to this point, ever.  But I REALLY hate getting to this place in public! At one point I stopped and said, "THAT'S IT.  I don't want anyone to look at, speak to, breathe on or think about each other until we get to the car and if anyone so much as makes a peep, you're riding home strapped to the roof of the minivan! Got it?"

I did what I had to do. But Mamaw?

Well, she was full of opinions and suggestions.  "Why do you let them get to you? You shouldn't talk to them like that.  You should discipline them more.  But don't discipline them too much because that just breaks my heart."  Oy vey! 

It irks me how she can have so many suggestions and such a determination that everything should always remain calm and that I'm just overly "worked up". 

Yeah? Well aren't you the woman who fell asleep last night at 8pm and woke up at 9am and proceeded to watch TV while you drank three cups of coffee, uninterrupted and the most stressful part of your day was deciding whether you should mail your cable bill or call it in?

Aren't you the one who can't seem to understand how I can fall behind on laundry with 5 people in the house because after all,  you seem to have no problem keeping up your laundry, all two loads per week of it? 

Oh yeah? Do you have any clue what my life is like on a day-to-day basis?  I never sleep in, I rarely have a moment to myself and demanded of nearly every second of every day.  It never stops.  I'm doing the very best I can and sometimes, yes sometimes I do crack.   There is only so much pressure you can put on a person before they fracture under the stress!

Well, I would never SAY anything to her other than, "it's just hard to understand when you're not the one at the center of it."  Because that's what it is, really...a giant swirling storm with dangerously flying debris. 

There is lighting and thunder and loss of power.  And us moms are at the center of that super cell, trying our best not to get flogged by a projectile.  We're in the thick of it, baby.  We're enduring, we're suffering, we're clinging desperately to a shred of hope that we are doing a good job and someday the storm will pass and the sun will come out.

Mamaw is like the TV viewer, safely watching live coverage of an F5 tornado with wind speeds of 300mph from the safety of her home, 1000 miles away saying, "psh...that wind doesn't look that bad.  What a bunch of sissies.  I don't know what they're getting all worked up about?"  Well then, what would she do if the storm was on her back door?  Or in this case, in the epicenter of her teensy little apartment?

"You know Mamaw, you are going to be gone to Pennsylvania for a month and the kids sure are going to miss you.  Maybe they should spend the day and night with you so you can get some (get this) quality time with them before you go.  I'm sure they'd really like it.  We'll even let all three of them stay with you.  It'll be so much fun!" 

She agreed.  Because how could she not?  She's a grandmother and there is an unwritten rule that Grandma's just can't say "no" to their grandbabies. Muah ha ha.  I got her on a technicality.

She had them for a day and a half and it was glorious!  I slept in until...hold on to your panties now...NINE IN THE MORNING, PEOPLE!  I got up and took slow sips of coffee...in silence.  I skipped (no- really I truly did) down to my garden and checked out all of my yellow squash which are now the size of my index finger.  It was amazing. 

She had called me three times by the time I woke up, to know when I was coming to pick them up. They had been fighting over ridiculous things and she couldn't seem to keep them fed enough and why do they wake up when it's still dark and why do they keep touching each other? Why won't they let me sit down for even five minutes?

She was frazzled by the time I went over to pick them up.  She hadn't showered and was complaining of exhaustion.  She was snappy and the kids tattled something about Grandma threatening to separate them into three corners...of the earth.  *smirk*  Gone were the snuggles and the quiet, patient voice.  Gone were the frivolous offers of candy.  She looked like a haggard crash test dummy, fresh off a Kia testing lot.

 She begged me never to leave them there again for that LONG again and assured me that she would not be missing them for the first two (maybe three) weeks of her upcoming vacation.

Oh Mamaw, why DO you let them get to you?