Over the River and Through the Woods

A couple of weeks ago, my mother calls me to tell me that my father and herself will be on vacation in a couple of weeks and can the kids stay the night at their house for a couple of days.  Now, I express to my mother that they live all the way across town and it’s a pain in the ass to drive all the way over there, unload everything and then come back to pick them up and reload everything and then unload when I get back. My parents get to see their grandbabies about once a month because of the distance and depending if my father works on the weekends.  But my mother wants to take care of them because she knows that my husband and I need some “time to ourselves.” Somehow I think my parents secretly want my kids.  If they could, I think they would take them for themselves.  It’s like my parents want to raise children again.  I can’t believe that I’m raising my own children, who by the way drive me bat shit crazy sometimes, let alone wanting to raising my grandchildren.  What’s wrong with my parents?  

Anyway, I thought about it and it would be nice to have a couple of nights with just the husband and I.  My parents can’t cause too much damage to my children right?  I know I don’t remember the couple of times that I stayed over my paternal grandmother’s house, my kids probably won’t remember too much at my parents house at their ages anyway.  So I told my mother ok. 

The night before I send the kids over to my parents house, I have to pack and get their clothes ready for tomorrows sleep over.  I dread this part of the task.  I have to remember; shirt, shorts, underwear, socks, diapers, wipes, onesies, towels, soap, wash cloths, toiletries etc.  I always forget something.  Then in the morning, I have to remember, the breast milk, I have powder formula just in case I run out of breast milk, the kids vitamins, toys to bring, The Don’s mobile so he can sleep, Bambino pack and play which will be used as his make shift crib and anything I missed before we leave. 

I think about the drive to my parents house.  It’s about a thirty minute drive.  You may say, ‘it’s not that bad.’ Well try driving down there every week like I use to when The Don was an infant.  It’s a pain in the ass. Then it’s the unloading of the stuff, telling my parents or should I say my mother what’s what with what child, getting the kids settled and telling them that I will see them in a couple of days.  Then it’s the thrity minute drive home. 

After a few hours, I would check in with them to say goodnight to my babies.  This always happens when they find something on the kids that looks “suspicious”  like a bump on the head or a scraped elbow and wondered ‘what happened’. This is the main reason why that my kids don’t stay over because one time my parents was so judgmental about The Don not having the correct size shoes, but they didn’t put his feet in all the way and suggest that he need shoes.  Now The Don was nine or ten months at the time and he wasn’t walking outside so he didn’t need shoes.  My parents act like we couldn’t afford the shoes and wanted to pay for the shoes.  When I told my husband about it he was like ,”They’re about to lose their babysitting priviledges,” he was so pissed off.  So, my parents never get to have The Don over for about two years until this past November.  My parents learned over time that we raise our children the way we see fit.  If they ‘find’ something wrong, I would tell him ‘it happens, they’re kids,’ matter factly and move on.

After the two days have past, by this time I’m ready for the kids to come back. I make the drive back to my parents house.  I would hear how my parents let one or both of the kids stay up late and how they ate a lot of ice cream, and junk food, and how they let them do what they wanted.  All I hear is ‘Your kids are full of sugar.  Their sleep schedule is off. Have fun putting them back on schedule and eating health food ha ha ha!”  Then it’s the drive back and unloading the car and then separating the clean clothes from dirty clothes, and putting their toys back the way it was.

All I have to say is that this better be the best two days of my life going through all this trouble. It better be!

My Quiet Time

I’ve been up since five am. I thought Bambino had his sleep schedule down pack. He has been going to bed at eight fifteen and getting up at six thirty, sometimes seven o’clock. For the past three nights, however, Bambino been waking up at five o’clock. He must be going through some sort of sleep regression, I believe it’s the nine month sleep regression that I’ve read about. You know the one where their sleep is interrupted because all the brain activity going on because they’re absorbing the language, crawling, cruising, teething, yada, yada, yada. He’s naps haven’t been good as well; sleeping and half and hour, an hour if I’m lucky. Bambino usually takes his first nap around nine, nine thirty. It’s only four long hours away. I am counting down for quiet time.

It’s about eight o’clock, my husband and The Don are having their breakfast when I go downstairs to meet them with Bambino. The Don asks my husband to watch home videos on his phone. As I put Bambino down for get his baby food, he starts with the crying, skreiking cry that is nerve reckoning. I tell him that I’m getting his food and I’ll feed him soon. I’m getting ready to feed Bambino when my husband leaves for work. I walk him out the door with The Don right beside me and in the background, Bambino is crying. I see my husband off to work. The Don walk with me back to the kitchen and ask for “Video.” “What do you say?” “Play Video Please?” So I hurry to get the video started and then I go back to feeding Bambino. The Don comess out and ask for me to play the video again. It must be at the main menu so I told The Don to give me a couple minutes to feed Bambino then I play the video. A minute later, The Don come back whining “Play video, Play video, Play Video.” He’s at the repeating stage and it’s so annoying. “Didn’t I say wait until I’m done feeding Bambino. Go in the TV room and play with your toys.” After a couple more minutes, I’m done feeding Bambino. I put the bowl in the sink and Bambino starts crying again. Either he’s teething or tired. He starts rubbing his eyes. He must be tired. I go into the TV room to push play for The Don and went back in the kitchen to nurse Bambino. It’s only quarter to nine.

In the middle of nursing Bambino, I hear the footsteps of The Don and him driving one of his toy fire trucks on the wall making a lot of noise. Bambino got startled by the noise and started fussing and cry because he wanted to sleep. I angrily whispered to The Don to go back into the TV room. He did while still dragging his fire truck on the wall. “Give me the truck!” I demanded. I try to nurse Bambino to sleep again, but he was awake again thanks to The Don. So Bambino stayed up an extra hour before he finally took his nap. It’s about ten o’clock now.

I had to do some laundry. I also had to get The Don some toast because he was still hungry. 
I also had to unload the dishwasher, put the dishes away, and let out the dog. I thought I had some time for myself. I sat down at the kitchen table to finally eat my breakfast when I heard a stir in the monitor. Of course, Bambino is awake after about forty five minutes of sleep. I hurried and ate my breakfast while I listen to the gentle sounds of Bambino screams for me hysterically. 

I got Bambino, changed him and brought him back downstairs. The Don was getting bored with watching TV and wanted to play baseball. We have a T ball set for him to play with in the backyard. I figured why not and we went in the backyard to play. The Don started to play T Ball. He hit the six balls that we have and then he was done. Then he started to play with his CAT truck in the dirt. We also had bubbles that I could blow. The Don wanted to blow the bubbles. I gave him a chance to blow. He wasn’t pursing his lips correctly and when he blew, his teeth were in the way. I was trying to show him how to blow, but he wanted to do it his way. I told him “look how mama blows,” but he wasn’t paying attention. So I got frustrated and took the bubbles away. The Don started whining and crying, “Blow bubbles. Blow bubbles.” Once he starts whining, it’s time to go back inside. It’s about noon now. Is it quiet time yet?

After lunch, The Don and Bambino and I goes upstairs to The Don’s room to play and read stories. The boys play together, crawling after each other, climbing the stairs having a good time. I’m glad they are having fun, but I’m counting down to quiet time. I read The Don a story and now it’s time for QUIET TIME! It’s about two thirty. I let The Don go potty and have him stay in his room for quiet time. Whether he naps or not doesn’t make any difference to me as long as I my quiet time. Now, I have to get Bambino down for his second nap. It always takes time to get Bambino down for the second nap. He wants to crawl and cruise. So I let him and hopefully it will tire him out. About an hour of this, he’s ready for his second nap. It’s now about four o’clock. The Don decided to take his nap about thirty minutes ago. I nurse Bambino until he falls asleep and slip out of his room. 

I finally get to have time to myself. I go upstairs to lie in my bed to rest. I look forward to quiet time because it’s a break that I need from the kids. Sometimes it could be thirty minutes or as long as two hours if I’m lucky. It’s my goal to get quiet time every day and to show the kids that mama need time to herself too and it’s ok to be away from them. I use to feel guilty about taking time for myself, but being burnt out isn’t good for me either. So I take my quiet time because I deserve a little peace in my mind.

Mama Leave!

After lunch today, The Don, Bambino, and I decided to go upstairs and read a story instead of The Don watching TV and Bambino crawling into everything in the Kitchen.  The Don loves to crawl with Bambino up the stairs. “Bambino crawls up the stairs,” The Don would say.

So off went The Don and Bambino crawling up to the stairs.  The Don would be right by Bambino’s side so they can go up the stairs together. The Don is very protective of his little brother and he makes sure that his little brother is alright. When we came to the second floor, The Don and Bambino went around the corner to get to the third floor stairs.  The Don was waiting for Bambino and Bambino looked like that he was heading up the stairs to the third floor when Bambino had other plans.  Bambino decided to go down the hallway on the second floor and into The Don’s bedroom. 

“Bambino go upstairs.  BAMBINO GO UPSTAIRS!”  The Don was yelling at me to make Bambino go upstairs with him. 

“Maybe Bambino is tired and wants to play in your room instead.  He will go up the stairs if he wants to.” 

The Don didn’t understand why I wasn’t making Bambino go upstairs with him.  The Don is starting to realize that he can control certain things around him, but he can not control the actions of another human being and that being is his little brother.

Bambino crawled to The Don’s Vtech guitar and started to play with it. The Don tried to take it from Bambino.  The Don is at the ‘it’s mine’ stage.  I told The Don to share.  The Don wasn’t having it. 

“Give the guitar back to your brother.  When he stops playing it then you can play.” 

The Don still was trying to take the Guitar from Bambino. 

“Stop that.  You would want Bambino to share his toys although you take his like his walker.  You play with his toys, let him play with yours.” 

The Don went into the hall closet to get Bambino’s walker.  The Don pretends that the walker is a vacuum cleaner or a lawn mower.  The Don played with the walker for about a minute then aggressively tried to take the guitar away from Bambino again. 

“Ok, since you don’t want to share, I’m taking the walker away.  Until you share your guitar, you won’t get the walker back.”  

The Don figure that he would trade another toy of Bambino’s to get the guitar and hands Bambino his toy to get the guitar. 

“No, give the guitar back to Bambino.” 

The Don was so frustrated that he couldn’t get the guitar, he said, “Mama Leave!” 

“You wanted Mama to leave?”  I repeated his request. 

“Mama leave.” 

“Ok, I’ll leave.  So now were doing quiet time now.  Go potty before we do quiet time.” 

The Don went to the potty and came back. 

As I picked up Bambino, I said to him, “Ok, it’s quiet time.  I’ll see you in an hour.” 

The Don whined and said, “Mama read.” 

“You said Mama Leave so I’m leaving.  We’ll read after quiet time.”

It was interesting to see The Don getting upset with me by telling me to leave.  I didn’t force my presence in his room; I wanted him to know that he has a choice of whom is in his space and that I will respect his space and his right to be upset with me.  This also shows him the power of his words and to think before he says things that he may not really mean. I’m actually proud of him because he used his words not hitting to express his emotions. Now if I can only get him to share his toys with his brother, well that’s a work in progress.  Wish me luck!  

To Pee or Not to Pee

Going out with a potty trained preschooler is like playing beat the clock.  You have to time when they last went to the potty to however long that it takes for your preschooler to scream “Go Potty!”  I don’t know about you, but I have to time when The Don last go to the potty, which is usually before we leave the house, to what ever place we have to go.  The Don usually has a full bladder around the two in a half to three hour mark.  I guess that not too bad if you’re out running a quick errand.  But if I plan to be out of more than two to three hours, I need a bathroom plan.  When we are out, you would think that we would look for the nearest exit in case of an emergency.  Nope, not me.  With two kids and one of them is potty trained, I have to look for the nearest restroom.  Is it close to the exit or in the back of the store?  I need to know the quickest routine there too just in case I have a preschooler asking to go potty or a screaming baby that needs to be changed, quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Last Friday our shopping trip was to Trader Joes.  When we got in line, it was about the two hour mark since the last time The Don went potty.  Sometimes I wonder if I should see if The Don could hold it until we get home.  Driving home is only twenty minutes away.  But what if the Kelly Driveis block in the direction we need to get home and I need to take the expressway?  If the drive is block then everyone would be taking the expressway right?  Then the expressway would be crowded. What if I get stuck on the expressway and The Don says he has to go potty?’  These are the scenarios that I conjure up in my head.  Yup, I’m crazy like that. 

Anyway back to the story, We got in line ready to pay for the groceries.  I asked The Don if he has to go potty.  He usually repeats the question.

“Do you have to potty, yes or no?” 

“Yes,” The Don answered.

We waited in line to go to the bathroom.  There were two men waiting before us and The Don kept saying, “Go Potty!” 

“You have to wait in line.  There are two other people waiting in line before us so they have to go first.” 

In Trader Joes, there are two single bathrooms.  One of the bathrooms people were coming in and out of but the second bathroom was questionable.  Maybe no one was in there.  Maybe the bathroom was out of order.  We were waiting there for almost ten minutes while the other two people took their turn.  Then finally, the second bathroom opened up.  It was a young lady coming out.  I figured that she could have be sick or on the phone but it never crossed my mind what she was actually doing in there.

I was so focused on getting The Don to the bathroom when the stinch of shit hit my nose. 

“Whoa! She took a dookie in here.  The Don, can’t you smell it?” 

Now don’t ask me why that I ask my three year to smell funky shit but I think it’s just something you say, not that I wanted my son to smell shit. 

“Hurry up and go pee so we can get out of here.” 

I put Bambino on the changing table and quick swap the dirty with the clean diaper.  The Don lifted up the seat and tried to pee. 

“What are you doing?  Are you going to pee or not?” 

The Don was just standing there looking at the toilet bowl.  I noticed that his penis was touching the outside of the bowl.  I figured that he needed to hold his penis to pee. 

“Hold your penis.  Hold your penis and pee! Come on it’s stinks in here.” 

He held his penis.  Nothing.  The Don said, “Not here.  I pee over there.” 

I was confused.  It looked like he wanted to pee on the side of the toilet. 

“Stop playing! If you don’t have to pee, then let’s ok.” 

“Go pee!” 

“Then go pee.” 

The Don let out a tinkle maybe a little more than a tinkle.  It wasn’t potty emergency worthy. 

“That’s it?  I thought you had to go potty.” 

The Don started to pull up his pants slowly but the stench of this chicks shit was climbing fast up my nose.  I felt like I wanted to gag. 

“Come on, pull up you underwear and pants. It’s stinks in here.” 

I helped him pull up his underwear and pants.  I turned on the water to help him wash his hands. 

“Put your hands in the water and wash your hands.” 

I put some soap in his hands.  The Don wanted to take his time and play with the water.  Am I’m the only one who smell the stinch of shit?  The Don doesn’t seem to be phased by it.  I told him to stop playing.  I turned the water off and as fast as I could, pulled the paper towels down from the dispenser. 

“I dried my hands.”  The Don said excitedly. 

“Yeah, Yeah, come on let’s get out of here.” 

 If I ever in a situation where I have to wait more than five to ten minutes for a bathroom and I find out that someone shitted in there, The Don would have to wait.  I’m not taking a risk and being stuck in a smelly bathroom while The Don takes his sweet time decided to pee or not to pee.  I’ll take my chances being stuck on the highway.

What’s the doggy doing?

Our dog’s name is Rocky.  Yup like Rocky Balboa.  He was a rescue dog from the SPCA when I got him in 2007.  He’s a very sweet and lovable dog and he’s very protective of our family.  One time, Rocky saved my life when I was living in my old  house before I got married by barking to let me know that the basement was on fire. The fire started around five in the morning. No, it wasn’t engulfed in flames but the laundry room door in the basement caught on fire and it was a mini blaze that formed. He can be tempermental when it comes to other dogs in a sense that he’s not very friendly if another dog comes near me or the family when were out on walks.  Sometimes I think he thinks he’s people.  He’s a great guard dog and is great with the kids.

One Saturday, the family was out in the backyard.  The Don was playing T Ball and my husband was trying to show him how to swing the bat to hit the ball.  Bambino was taking his nap and I was just enjoying watching The Don and my husband bond.  There are tee balls, football, and a couple of basketballs in our yard; the typical boys backyard.   This is a special ball that The Don like to play with because it’s big and it kind of float in the air when you bounce it.  This ball is a particular favorite of Rocky’s as well.

It was my husbands turn at the T Ball but instead of using an actually T Ball, he uses the big, floating ball to hit with the bat.  When my husband hit the ball, Rocky went right to it.  What looked like he was trying to play with the ball by pulling it close to his body turned into something entirely different.  Rocky brought the ball to his body and started humping the ball.  I didn’t think that a dog who was neutered would still get the urge to hump anything.  My husband and I looked at each other and then looked at The Don to see what he would say.  The Don just laughed at Rocky. I think The Don knew what Rocky’s doing was naughty but don’t know why. My husband immediately told The Don that the dog was ‘playing’ with the ball.   Thank goodness because I though that we would have to explain that the dog was ‘getting off’ on the ball. Well, at least Rocky had a good time that day.

I wonder why we didn’t just come out and say that Rocky was ‘humping’ the ball.  Maybe we were a little embarrassed that Rocky was doing a sexually act in front of our three year old. But I know for one thing, we will never use that ball again.  Thanks Rocky!

Rocky

The Wall

The Don got hurt today. It’s the type of pain that I never thought that I could hear from him. It’s not the usual bumps, and nicks, and scraps that he experiences from time to time like tripping and falling because he didn’t pick up his feet while running. It wasn’t a stump toe on the chair type of pain. It was the ultimate pain that I ever witness from The Don in his three years of life. I knew I shouldn’t have let him climb that wall around the tennis court. I had a feeling that he would fall…and he did. 

The Don, Bambino, and I went on our regular walk with our dog. We were about four blocks away from home when The Don wanted to climb the stairs to get to the three foot wall that borders the tennis court in our neighborhood. I let him climb on it when he was about two, but I would hold his hand as he walked on the stone wall and then I would carry him down. Every time we walk pass the wall, he would say, “climb on wall” and I would tell him no. Today however, I let him climb the wall because there was a tennis ball that was left in the inner part of the wall and I asked him to get it. As soon as he got it, something told me to get him down and let him walk on the pavement. I didn’t listen because I wanted him to stop asking me to climb this wall. I wanted him to “shut up” about climbing this wall. I also wanted to satisfy my own insecurity because I was afraid that he might fall. I didn’t want to be an overprotective parent. Maybe he could walk safely on the wall.

The Don did well for a while. I told him to keep looking forward because I notice that he kept looking at the trucks and tractor trailers going by. All of a sudden, I heard him fall. I slowly turned around. I saw The Don on his front with his hands on the pavement. He caught himself and only scratched up one of his elbows and a little scrap on his left wrist. I looked at his face and his arms. I made sure that he could move his arms to make sure that his arms weren’t broken. Thank God, the damage could have been worse. I could never forgive myself if he has broken anything or cracked his head. “This is the reason why I didn’t want you to climb this wall. I knew I shouldn’t let you walk this wall” I told The Don. I was very angry at myself for giving in to his whining. I’m the adult. I should have known better. 

Wall 3
A similar stone wall
Credit Quality Masonry Design



The Don was crying, but not what I thought he would be crying about. The Don was crying because he wanted to try the wall again. I thought to myself, “What is wrong with the kid? He fell, hurt himself, and now he wanted to try it again?” He doesn’t give up when he falls. I did always tell him it doesn’t matter if you fall, as long as you can get back up and try again, you’ll be fine. Now he listens to me. I was dragging a screaming kid down the street. People watching what a horrible parent, I am letting my son cry and not consoling him. The Don kept saying, “Try again. I want to try again”, with tears coming down his eyes. I kept telling him, “No, you hurt yourself; you’re not getting on that wall again.” I can’t console a kid if he doesn’t want consoling.

When we got home and settled, The Don stop crying and screaming about the wall and now realizing that the elbow scrap was causing him pain and he was screaming about he “needed help” with his elbow. I got the first aid kit, Neosporin, and some band aids. I put some alcohol on his wounds and he screamed so bad that my heart ached. I put some Neosporin on him and put the band aids on. The Don said afterwards about his wounds, “It’ll be ok.” “Yes, you’ll be ok,” I told him. I gave my little strong guy a big hug. Afterwards, he wanted to watch his Wubbzy cartoon and he was his old self again. Next time I got to listen to my gut. Motherly instincts are never wrong.

8 Things New Grandparents Should Know About being a Grandparent

Just the other day, I was at the Rite Aid buying some emery boards for Bambino fingernails when the store clerk noticed his onesie.  It read, “If mommy says no, ask grandma.”  The store clerk said, “I know that’s right.  I need to get that from my grandchild.” 

 

She was telling me that her son’s girlfriend was about to have a baby in December and she was telling the girl, ‘That’s my baby now.‘ The store clerk said that the girlfriend was like, ‘What’ nervously as if this woman would take her child away from her.  I said to her, “I guess it must be an exciting time for grandparents when they have their first grandchild.” She nodded in agreement and said that she probably will be there at the delivery too; like it was a given.  I had to think back on when my parents was excited about having their first grandchild and had these horrible flash backs of how it seem like they saw my son as their son and wanted to jokingly “Keep him and run away with him.”  Are they serious?  Sometimes I wonder.  If you’re becoming a grandparent, it’s exciting for you as well as your child but here are a few things you need to remember:

1.         Don’t assume that you would be invited into the delivery room:  I know you want be in the delivery room to see your first grandchild being born but before you speed down the highway running every red light to get to the hospital; ask if it’s ok first.  Some couples just want to share the birth of their child by themselves and don’t want to make it a spectator sport.  Besides, maybe the mother doesn’t want everyone to see her vaj-jay and coming from it is an emerging big ole head of the baby splitting her vaj-jay wide open. Kind of embarrassing don’t you think?  If it’s ok with them fine, but please, PLEASE ask first.

2.         The baby is not your own baby:  Ok, unless you were the one pushing out the baby, don’t be the first one to hold the baby.  Don’t joke about it’s your baby, or you’re keeping the baby for yourself or you want to take the baby and never come back.  It’s not funny, not even remotely funny. It’s very unsettling.  Don’t try to take over and be the first to change or feed the baby. You do have children of your own right?  Didn’t you raise your babies?  Give the new parents a chance to raise theirs.  It’s only fair.

3.         Don’t assume that you’re on babysitting duty: Don’t go off changing your spare bedroom in your house into a nursery assuming that you will be babysitting every weekend. Offer to babysit if the couple needs it but don’t imply that you will babysit by mentioning, “I already repainted your old room and made it into a nursery, with a crib and diaper changing station all ready for when I babysit my grandbaby.”  It’s not good to guilt trip your way in the babysit gig. Check with the couples schedule before you go out and spend money on decking out a nursery.  It will save you money in the long run. 

4.         Don’t try to parent you’re grandchild. You had your turn:  When your child is trying to parent your grandchild, don’t intervene by saying something like; ‘Don’t dress him in that! Here, let him wear this shirt that grandma had brought him’.  Or ‘Don’t coddle the baby, you’re spoiling him’. Or the infamous ‘We didn’t do this or we didn’t do that when we were raising you.’  In other words, ‘Raise my grandbaby the way I want you to’.  You had your chance to parent your child, it’s your child and their partners turn.  In order words, BACK OFF! Which leads me to….

5.         Don’t override your children’s rules especially right in front of your grandchild: This one really gets under my skin.  Don’t override your children’s rules when it comes to your grandchild, especially in their own house.  I find that rude and disrespectful to the parent who is trying to establish an authoritative figure to your grandchild.  When the parent tells your grandchild, “No more TV after dinner,” don’t  say, “If you eat all your dinner, then you can watch more TV.”  You just overruled the parent and now your grandchild won’t take their parents seriously because they would see that Grandma/Grandpa have more authority than their parents. Don’t power trip.  No matter how you may think their parent rules are unfair, it’s their child, their house, their rules.

6.         Don’t ridicule the new parent’s parenting style: You have to understand that the new parents are probably not going to raise your grandchild the way you raised your child and that’s ok.  You have to realize that the parents will incorporate both of their up bringing to raise their child.  The way you raised your children is not the only or best way to raise them.  Let them raise their child the way they see fit.  If your grandchild is happy, then what’s the problem?

7.         Get use to your child telling you what to do:  Yes, you have raised kids before.  Yes, you know what you are doing.  Do they have to tell you to change the diaper when it’s wet every time you watch your grandchild?  You have to understand that they will tell you what to do.  They are going to tell you not to do this or you can’t do that. Some are within reason and some you may think is ridiculous.  I know being the parent, you’re not use to taking orders from your child and you may be offended that your child is telling you how to handle their baby.  Don’t take it personally.  There is some insecurity in them being first time parents and if you have to humor them until their confidence in your babysitting skills are build up, just nod and say ok. 

8.         Share your grandchild with the other grandparent: Don’t assume your grandchild will be over every holiday every year and don’t try to keep them or make plans with them every weekend.  The other grandparent would like to share in the happiness in their grandchild too.  Maybe the other grandparent can see their grandchild on Thanksgiving and you have them on Christmas or vice versa. Work it out with the parents a time that works best for everyone including spending the night schedule.  Be flexible especially if you see your grandchild the major of the time.

It is an exciting time for new grandparents when their grandchild is born.  Sometimes it seems like the grandparents are more excited than the parents themselves.  Grandparents don’t have to feel like they need to take over and be the parent of their grandchild.  Raising a child is nerve reckoning and what new parents need is for their parents to be in a supportive role in their journey to raise their child together.  When you were a new parent, you probably didn’t want your parents interfering in the way your raised your children.  Let your child get the chance to raise their children and if you’re confident that you’ve raised a kind, decent human being, your child will also raise a kind, decent human being as well.