Substitute Teacher-itis

While Don and I were away last week, his parents stayed with our children. They live in West Virginia and only see the children once or twice a year. I was delighted they were coming. My mother-in-law is one of the kindest, most generous and gifted people you could ever want to meet. My father-in-law, also very talented and artistic, can best be described as "game".

Several years ago during one of their visits, when Deanna was about 2 or 3, I walked by the bathroom door and saw Dad Doughty seated on top of the commode with his feet in the air. Deanna was sitting on the side of the tub with her feet also in the air. I stood looking dumbfounded. Dad laughingly told me that he and Deanna were in the jungle and they had to lift their feet so the alligators wouldn't get them. Anything Deanna wanted to play, Grandpa went along with. Game.

So, I thought this would work out wonderfully. They'd get time with the children by themselves, it'd be like a vacation for the children (getting to do lots of fun things with their grandparents), and I'd sleep peacefully on my trip knowing the best possible care-givers (other than my parents, of course, who can't deal with the noise and activity level any more) were watching over my little sheep.

Actually, it was Don's idea. He e-mailed them and asked. I intercepted their answer and quizzed Don about it. He knew I would be able to enjoy myself without worrying about the children if they were being cared for by his parents. Anyway, they agreed, came, and we left. I did leave a few instructions for my mother-in-law, like what the kids typically eat for meals, medicines, bathtime and bedtime - typical babsitter-type stuff. And from there, blithely exited off with my husband for a whale of a good time.

While gone, we had a conversation with Deanna, who was frustrated because she "tried to explain to Grandma how we do things, but Grandma won't listen". God bless Grandma. As if it's not hard enough being in a strange home and dealing with all the activity of three children (including a VERY busy 3-yr. old), she had Deanna setting her straight. I encouraged Deanna to let Grandma do things her own way and then relayed the story to Don. We prayed for Grandma and our sweet little girl who's used to mothering her brothers and has a very strong sense of what SIMPLY MUST BE DONE THIS WAY!!

When we arrived home on Wednesday night, excited to see the children and anxious to show them our live blue crabs (I realize "crabs" is not a word, but it's common usage at the Pier), Don and I quickly began handing out their gifts. I sat at the table with the children to show them how to clean a crab - he was cooked, of course, 'cause Grandma had a pot of boiling water waiting on us. While the children gathered around, I noticed Grandpa taking bags out to their car, which Don and I had used for our trip so they could have the van with the built-in car seats. Packing up tonight for their early departure tomorrow, I thought.

The next thing I knew, Grandma said, "Well, goodbye." I glanced up and noticed her purse on her shoulder. "Where are you going?" I asked, a little slow on the uptake.

"Home," she said. "We enjoyed it. See ya." Quick hugs to all and they got the heck out of Dodge. My father-in-law paused to tell us that he hadn't slept the entire time they were here, so they might as well be driving. And then, they were gone.

Don and I sat stunned. The children were so excited to have us home, I'm not sure they even noticed. I looked at Don and he shrugged. I mentioned before that I was a little slow on the uptake. That's a typical condition with me. Some people are perceptive - I'm not one of them. It takes me hours to process information and "figure it out". I decided the processing of this information had to wait - there were crabs to eat.

The next day, Deanna and I were running errands when she announced that the boys had really given Grandma and Grandpa a hard time, and they didn't know what to do about it. I asked her if they put the boys in a time-out. She said that they tried to send them to their room, but it didn't work (they share a room, so this isn't exactly separating them).

Finally, my very slow, groggy wheels began to turn. Here were Grandma and Grandpa, in their late 50's, taken out of their very quiet life and stranded in a house they're not terribly familiar with (I recommended to Grandpa that he put his hanging clothes in my closet when they arrived - he said he couldn't remember how to get to my room), being chided and corrected by Deanna and trying to keep the boys from killing each other before their parent's return. Grandma doesn't know where anything in my kitchen is, but she was preparing 3 meals a day. The noise and activity alone must have been exhausting. But then, add the behavior of the children, and I'm amazed they didn't meet us in the driveway with suitcases in hand.

I told Don about my thought process. He chuckled. We decided to send his folks a very nice floral arrangement - fast. My sister recommended two tickets to the Ballet, as well.

I guess mailing them my firstborn is a little out-of-the-question.