...is sitting in my living room writing a post to this blog. That would be me.
There's so much muddy water where my older child and my first grandchild are concerned that I couldn't begin to explain the spaghetti-tangled mess that comes with them. All I can say is, I don't really feel obligated to do anything for them.
That being said, I recently received an email from my DIL who asked me if I was mailing a gift for the grandson's upcoming birthday, or if I was going to drive 2 hours to bring it over.
Gift? What gift? I've yet to send him a birthday gift. Why would I start now?
It's not that I don't love the kid. Well, I don't really know him, since the full responsibility of having any relationship with him has been placed fully and squarely on my shoulders. That means no one has ever brought him the two hours to my house. Rather, I make two round trips in a weekend if he ever gets to visit. Oh, wait.... what am I thinking? His dad has brought him over twice in five years.
Back to the gift issue. The grandson has two sets of parents, three sets of grand parents (one of which he lives with), so many toys that I couldn't begin to gift shop for fear of duplicating something. The last toy I bought him was broken in less than thirty minutes. My feelings are, "Why bother?"
Oh, I was informed that the step-grandparents' birthday gift had already arrived, a full five days early. I have so been put in my place.
In a nutshell, I am a bitch. I know it and accept full responsibility. I hate it when people sit around with their paws out. I give out of the goodness of my heart, not out of obligation.
Tonight I'm feeling a large black hole in my heart. All the goodness has drained out for this week.
I suppose another side to the story is the attitude I get from my own kid. He called me a few days ago, and when I answered the phone, the first words out of his mouth were, "Mom, you're old, right?"
I may be old, but you're an inconsiderate dweeb, and I can get a face lift and implants.
Museums
12 years ago
4 comments:
You are NOT the world's crappiest grandma. You've not been given a lot to work with and have done what you could. It seems like your son could meet you half-way in this if it's important to him.
My dad's mom lived in the same town as us kids when we were growing up. Mom would take us over and she would refuse to answer the door even though she knew we knew she was home. Of course when she died we (her adored grandchildren) were expected to be pall bearers for a woman we didn't even know.
So, go get yourself some Press n' Seal and cover up that hole so the goodness can build back up in your heart. (Uh, that was supposed to be funny.)
I hope things are OK where you are. No problems here. A few people lost power but I didn't. The ice is all gone. We had some great rain though. The kitties look so warm and comfy by the fire.
Jo, that was extremely funny. I particularly like "You've not been given a lot to work with..."
We're all fine. We've had fun the last few days.
My friend in Texas suggested I gift him by taking a hundred dollars off the total of the several-thousands of dollars that he's borrowed and not made any effort to pay back.
When I took over his student loan payments (two thousand dollars that bloomed into six thousand from six years for forebearances) I told him that was Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday for the next several years.
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