One thing I'm noticing more and more as the days go by, there is absolutely no consistency in the way she handles Grandson. Married Son is much more consistent, but he let's her over-ride him. Maybe not let's, more like tolerates. Or hasn't the balls to speak up.
A good case in point is the way this child eats. All he wants is cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. An occasional curly fry from her work, but that's about it. When she does get him to eat something different, he takes a few bites, saying he loves it, then a few more bites and decides he hates something. Then the battle begins. Only ... she gives in after a few minutes, lets him get up from the table, the cats get the scraps, and the kid is off doing what he wants. Short time later he comes back saying he's hungry and wants a bowl of cereal. And of course she gives in.
And I see it with everything else he wants too. He puts up a fight for something (toy, pop tarts or sugary snack, other junk), she gives in and gets it for him, and it's never again touched.
She was at work today, so I thought I'd talk to Married Son about it. Now ... this will need a little set-up ... he worked today, too. When he came home he had Grandson with him, and a bag from Arby's (they stopped where DIL works). She gave Grandson a thingie of seasoned curly fries, and put a sandwich in a bag that she wanted me to try (I seem to be the "new sandwich guinea pig", and I love it) ... soooooo ... they get home, put the bag on the table. Grandson grabs the bag, Married Son says "Son, that sandwich is Grandma's, give it to her." "No, I want it." "You can't have it, it's for Grandma". He tightens his grip on it, practically smashing the sandwich. I offer to share it with him, grab the bag, cut the sandwich so he gets about an inch of the six inch hoagie bunned sandwich. Put it on a child's plate (one used by my kids when they were little) and hand it to him. I tell him the story behind the plate, he says his mom gave it to him (standard operating procedure for him, he claims everything is his), takes a few bites of the sandwich. Doing good!! No fight, no whining he doesn't like it. We're doing good. Then ...
DIL walks in from work. And all hell breaks loose. "I don't want this, I don't like it", pushing the plate so hard as to almost knock it off the table. "Eat it" she about screams at him (or is it just her normal high volume yell, I can never tell). Then next fifteen minutes is spent yelling, crying, and otherwise just not touching the food. "Eat it, or you're not going camping with Popa next weekend" ... oh DO NOT threaten that on him, it's a worse punishment than the "crime" calls for ... I would have made him sit there until it was gone ... OR ... just sent him to bed without any more food, and MADE him stay there. But no ...
She coaxes him by taking away the bread, "eat the meat, son" then dividing it on his plate into four fork-sized piles. More fights. More tears. "Stand in the corner if you aren't going to eat." Of course, he fights her on that, too.
In the end, she let him up after only one fork-full. The cats got the rest of the dinner. Hours later he got a bowl of cereal, and a glass of chocolate milk.
And because he's not my kid, I pretty much stay out of it.
I do talk to Married Son about it, and I do discipline him when he's breaking the house rules, but for this I need to shut up.
You can bet no matter how much he begs, whines and cries in the future, Gramma L will not be sharing so much as a crumb with him. Teach him that he won't be the one calling the shots around here. In fact, later he came downstairs (they were up watching movies), saw I was eating a bowl of cherries and of course wanted some. "No way. You aren't getting anything from me anymore. You waste food." He went crying up to his parents. Oh well!
Had he been my child, he'd have been told "you do not leave the table until you eat what's on your plate." And grabbed a book to read while he sat there and ate it all.
Been there, done that. My parents said the same to me, and stuck around to make sure we didn't sneak food to the dog ... I did it when my kids tried the same. I wasn't born yesterday ... I still remember what goes through the mind of a five year old. I'm not that old!
All over a piece of a roast beef sandwich that wasn't an inch long! One I'm sure he would have finished had DIL not come home when she did.
He's still so mad at me for being a mean grandma that he won't kiss me good night. Ah well, I won't lose sleep over being strict and having a kid mad at me.
Aww shit, and now I'm hearing the one year old nephew is going to be here tomorrow because DIL's babysitting. And there's NO where really for a one year old to play around here. And I'm not babyproofing MY house because this will not become a normal occurance. She better be taking them to the park for the entire day, is all I'm gonna say on that.
Hmmm. If you are treating DIL and her interactions with grandson as if she was an alien life form and you were a Starship commander then I feel Ok that I'm finding it so entertaining and I hope you are finding it cathartic to vent. You're absolutely right - she isn't handling things well at all.
ReplyDeleteThat said - be careful Your son will be stuck in that miserable no win place between his wife and his mother, and a mother in law's help with training and discipline is rarely if ever welcomed - no matter how right you are.....she just won't be able to accept it, and she'll probably get even worse just to "show you". Especially if "if he was mine" or "when I raised mine" ever happens to slip out when you're ticked off.
Best that you just set as good an example as possible (like you were doing before she arrived), and hopefully your son will be able to encourage DIL to try a different approach.
And we both know that in the long run, its dependable, consistent Gramma that will be the favorite ;).
Em, and that's exactly why I blog. I won't put Married Son (or anyone else) in the position of having to choose between me and their spouse. My first MIL was awful for that ... the "when I raised mine" or "if he was mine" ... or worse ... "you're a horrible parent, you're doing it wrong". Of course, this was the same woman who thought the proper way to discipline a child was to put them in the corner on their knees, on a layer of uncooked rice for hours on end. Strict as I was, child abuse was never an option!
ReplyDeleteI will, however, discipline Grandson (or confront DIL or Married Son, or Single Son, too, for that matter) when the house rules are broken. They're all old eough to be able to learn and follow the rules. Maybe discipline isn't the right word? I point out what rule was broken in a stern voice, make him remedy it (practice lifting the toilet seat, giving him the broom, pointing out what toys are where), and standing over him to keep him "on task".
Funny, too, how he's a totally different little boy when DIL is gone.
And in the meantime, ya'll get to read about it here. Things I don't dare say to anyone, things I know are safe to vent here without pitting one against the other. Don't you feel special? LOL
I'm almost ashamed to say I'm loving every minute of it. I knew you were too smart to get dragged down in that mess. And what you describe isn't what I consider discipline, its wise parenting (or grandparenting, if it's grandson). You are simply insisting that they follow the house rules - and I think that's brilliant.(of course, what else would I expect - you ARE brilliant and I am not just saying that because you said I was special)
ReplyDeleteDiscipline should be for DIL - I think she should be forced to sleep with her dirty dishes ;).
Awww ,gee thanks.
ReplyDeleteI've always been a fan of "teach them by example". Maybe that's because my folks and my grandparents taught us by example. LOL.
And examples they gave (along with chores and lots of them, LOL).
I'm tempted to let her sleep with the dishes, after all, she DID threaten to do the same with Married Son that one night. The only thing really stopping me is that we only have one set of dishes, a partial set of silverware and a limited number of mixed pots and pans. Those would be in their room on her half of the bed in no time flat. Leaving me to nuke my food on paper plates and eating with my fingers. That works for Hot Pockets, but it's a little messy with tomato soup!
I now understand why my Creator gave me this warped sense of humor. He/She knew that one day it would be what carries me through my days.