I was at a birthday party today with my kids, and I left feeling pretty shocked about what I saw.
The party started out at a party place, and then moved to their home afterward. I stopped for gas on my way over, so the other kids were already in the house and having fun. Much to the dismay of my partying passengers. I walked into the kitchen and found the mom and both grandparents unloading the dishwasher, making tea and getting things ready for the next stage of the party.
This is what I saw and heard at the party:
- Genuine help with running the house.
- Interest in their grandchildren and what they had to say.
- Happy people.
- A daughter who was at ease having them around.
- Grandparents making relevant comments to their grandchildren, indicating that they not only knew they played hockey, but had also attended the games!
This is what I didn’t observe:
- Grandparents sitting on the couch like they were staging a sit-in, and if they moved Big Oil was going to get their way.
- Irritation when their daughter couldn’t listen to a 3 hour story about the price of gas because she had to attend to a child that was looting the cupboards.
- Criticism and snark about their daughter’s appearance, what she was serving, or how the kids were behaving.
- Complaints. Of any kind. Not even about the weather, or who had screwed them over on double-coupon day. I didn’t even hear about a trick-knee!
- A daughter twitching in the corner or hiding in the laundry room because a visit from her parents is so stressful. Her lip wasn’t even bleeding from biting it.
- Comments such as “When did she start school?” toward the end of the child’s second year.
- Comments about how “spoiled children are now. In my day I was lucky to get an orange and a hand-me-down dress for my birthday, let alone a huge party.”
- Sulking grandparents who were jealous that it was the birthday girl’s day to have all the attention.
- Comments such as “I’ll get out of your hair,” when things got hectic and their daughter likely needed them most.
I couldn’t wait to get my friend alone later to get the dirt on what her parents are really like when other people aren’t around to see them. I almost popped myself some popcorn, because these people were too perfect – there had to be some serious material for the psychologist’s couch behind it all. I pulled up my chair, trying hard to suppress my excited giggles at the promise of behind-the-scenes gossip.
My friend then admitted that they are just as lovely as they appear, and she is really grateful for everything they do. I waited for the wink. Then I turned around expecting to find her parents standing behind me. Nothing. No hint of sarcasm or delusion even. I couldn’t even smell pot.
It’s not that I want her parents to be a giant disappointment, but I fully admit to being both in awe of such a healthy relationship, and also to having blazing green eyes about the whole situation. I want my kids to have low-maintenance grandparents whose only agenda is to be helpful and to love my children.
While my first instinct was to smash all of her dishes, and my second instinct was to kidnap her parents and hold them hostage, I have come to a saner (and possibly even legal) conclusion. I need to just let my resentment go. It’s not going to change anything. And nothing about my parents is going to change. A team of professionals and a truckload of pharmaceuticals can attest to that. What I can be grateful for is that I have friends that I can count on to be there for me and my kids. And that’s even better because they don’t have any embarrassing bathtub pictures of me.
I destroyed those.