1338 Did you spend the night at Grandma's house?

Parenting is the title of a column in the Plain Dealer written by Dr. Sylvia Rimm. This morning's question was from a mother of 3 whose own parents who live close don't invite her children to have "overnights," but her husband's parents who live some distance welcome the opportunity. I only skimmed it since I was already writing this blog in my head, so I don't recall Dr. Rimm's solution.

Did you? I didn't. Well, once I think. It must have been for a very good reason, and because it was so rare, I remember that time with great fondness. My paternal grandmother was blind, but she knew all about kids--she'd raised 9 on a farm with no plumbing or electricity. My dad, understandably, believed she'd paid her dues in the mothering department, and didn't want her watching kids for anyone, not even my mother. His siblings just ignored his example, and so my cousins had all the fun plus grandma's good company and the influence of her sweet nature.

My husband and his siblings and cousin spent every week-end with his "Neno and Biggie." Those days and their fine Christian values and modeling really live on in his memory to this day. While his parents slept in on Sunday morning after a night of partying, the kids were in Sunday School at Memorial Presbyterian. The grandparents were actually raising his cousin, so I suspect the other children were welcomed playmates for her. He also spent his summers with his father's family at a cottage at Lake Webster, Indiana. His parents were divorced, so this was a way to be a part of his father's family. God bless all the aunties and grandmas who fill in the missing chinks in a child's life!

My own cildren never spent overnights with my parents, although all their cousins did (I think it was rare). I did ask once, was turned down, and never asked again. We lived two states away, so obviously a week-end jaunt wouldn't have been convenient. Once when the children were in pre-school we did take a week's vacation and left them with my sister-in-law who had a day care center. They thought they'd died and gone to heaven, and hoped all the other kids were new "cousins." When they were in middle school we flew them to California to spend a week with my father-in-law and his wife. They still talk about that visit (grandpa cooked bacon in the microwave!) and remember it fondly.

I didn't read Dr. Simm's reply, but because the writer refers to her parents' home as "museum like" I think I can detect the problem. Either Mommy has no rules at all and wants no one, especially Mom, to discipline the little sweety pies, or she has a list of rules to follow that runs to eleven type written pages, about bedtime, favorite foods, allergies, bath temperature, laundry soap, type of reading material, etc. Someone doesn't measure up in these kinds of situations.