When I started writing this collum, the eldest of my and my wife’s seven children was a freshman in high school. I shared a tale about prom dress shopping, and that while between the two of us I am far better equipped to lead merchandise appropriation expeditions, it was my wife who drew the short straw on that particular outing.
That was back when my work was in the form of a blog, and those early works are probably still on the web somewhere, occasionally turning up in someone’s search like the internet’s unwanted hair. We legitimized that work by pursuing the American dream by going into significant debt and buying into an industry hated by the social elite.
The perfect business plan for any humorist.
The whole time, however, time was there. Like in every musical composition from Ludwig van Beethoven to Ludacris Brian Bridges, it sets the tempo, and as it is in life’s symphony, time remains constant.
That high school dress-hunting freshman is now approaching the unavoidable agemarker that she will likely avoid admitting having reached for years after it has been surpassed. She also has three children of her own – ages four, two, and one – who have forced their parents into switching to a zone defense.
So, when the worn-out and ragged son-inlaw asked my wife and I to watch the kids over the weekend so the couple could spend a birthday weekend alone, we agreed. Then my wife informed me that she would be spending long hours at the office to catch up on a work backlog.
I looked, and behold I saw an opening hand, and in it was the shortest of straws. And the hand that held the straw was my own, and I was basset on all sides by weeping and the gnashing of teeth.
Fear not, for the density of feathers can be as a rod, and there is much wisdom imparted by William Golding about children's hierarchal concepts, and like Fezzik in “The Princess Bride,” it’s not your fault you’re the biggest and the strongest. So, when you find yourself alone with your nine-year-old daughter, and your three, four-and-under grandchildren here are a few parenting while grandparenting tips.
The first thing you must do is gain control of the operating theater. Anyone who can oppose your authority must go. Children can recognize an opportunity for negotiation when other adults are around, as well as an instinctive understanding of how witness statements work and that your beating them to death is likely a bluff.
Get rid of the witnesses, and it’s game on. Remind the young couple how nice it will be to only tend to one another’s needs for the weekend and encourage the spouse to head off to work. “I’ve got it covered, no worries,” you say, shuffling them out the door because, at this point, you need to work fast.
I’ve often written about the parallels between life and Lord of the Flies and removing the parents from the equation opens a power vacuum. This makes it easier to establish dominance, which like in prisons and on playgrounds, should be accomplished quickly.
They are called “throw” pillows for a reason... because the more accurately descriptive “Chinese Star” pillow was deemed culturally inappropriate. The physics works basically the same and they serve as a wonderful discipline device.
You can knock a kid out of the saddle for using the back of the couch to ride the open range from across the room. It takes only a few test rounds before they realize that your force and accuracy with the puffy projectile are unmatched, and as long as you’re wilding the “Pillow of Power,” and are working only within short timeframes of parental absence, they will be unlikely to stage an uprising.
The next thing you’re going to want to do is recruit. Unless there is clear dominance established among the children, observation is the key. Whoever’s name is called the most frequently among the kids is the one they all want to hang with, and they are the ones you need to have on your side.
In my situation, that was the oldest child among them and the youngest of my own children, my nine-year-old daughter. As she is still of the age where I’m still cool, she was already on my side, yet old enough to recognize the bargaining position and well-versed enough to see an opportunity.
Her assistance was paramount, as she is practically old enough to be a latch-key kid with boatloads of experience – as my wife and I now have more grandchildren than children – she is well-liked and respected among the tribe. Not to mention she has been operating one of the state’s largest unlicensed babydoll daycare and medical facilities for the past two years.
I won’t go into detail but suffice it to say, deals were struck. Yet as the cliché goes, teamwork makes the dream work, and kid wrestling is easier with a partner to tag .
It’s also simpler when you can better predict and plan for a hard crash at the end of the day. With a partner, you can run the kids like cattle all day, while catching a few moments of rest while your partner takes the reins, and at the end of the day, cleaning isn’t cleaning if it’s competitive, and no one likes to lose.
Remember: Sugar early and protein late. So, while that healthy lunch is important, it pales in comparison to the M&M cookies for an afternoon snack and breakfast for dinner. Once the digestion of eggs and bacon replaces the candycoated rush, all you need is a lavender bath and a nightlight, and they’ll be holding onto consciousness like an inebriated house cat on a cashmere coat.
So, when you find yourself surrounded by pint-sized people who have the capacity to capture your heart or steal your sanity, remember this: It’s better to be king of the playground, no one is an island, cookies for breakfast and breakfast for dinner, run them hard and put them up clean, and you’ll probably survive at least one night in This World of Hurt.