Parents, really?

Ooh, parents can certainly have it in for you, can't they? They spend years and years trying to cultivate you to be the perfect little person, the person they want you to be. You learn your right from wrong from them, base the foundations of your morals through them, even come to mimic some of their behavior and mannerisms. But it never fails to surprise me when the parental roles suddenly switch out on me. I sometimes find myself dealing with 50 and 60 year old children, the ones who raised me, or raised Jason. Bickering, competing, complaining, not letting things go... do I put them in time out? 


Recently my girls left for a visit to New York to see the Grandparents. We do this every year, one year the girls go, the next the boys go (we'd have to buy our own aircraft to send them all at one time, it's on the bucket list...). Well, every year, along with the planning of the trip, and then the week prior to, there's chaos. Oh, the kids are fine. They've been through the whole flying alone thing before. And I have all the bags packed, fresh clothes, all the best, made sure to pick out the holey socks and stained drawers. Jay and I miss them every year, of course, but it ain't our first rodeo either and we know it's great for the kids. 


No, the problem lies with the "adults". The "mature adults". The matriarchs of the families, the ones who are our spiritual mentors and life guides. The ones who blazed the trail for us with sweat, tears, and blood. Well, they have their revenge.


The first year we moved here and started this grand tradition, my mom ended up with one extra day. Ho-lee hell. So the second year his mom got two extra days. Jee-zus Christ. Forgive me for forgetting the details, my therapist has advised me not to dwell on the unpleasantries. But this year,  this year took the Grandaddy prize home (or should I say the Grandmama prize?). 


I made the mistake (I am heaping blame in the form of hot coals upon my bare shoulders... not really, but I still took the blame...) of giving my mother another extra day. There's a church bar-b-que the kids love to go to every year with her and some time ago, when the trip was first being planned (months ago people, I don't remember if I even showered yesterday) my mom asked if she could take them to the bar-b-que. Sure! Why the hell not? Here's where my mistake was; the reason she was asking was b/c the bar-b-que was on a monday, not a sunday, like usual, so instead of making the grandparent switch on sunday, like usual, my mom would have them an extra day. I absently said yes. (I would have said yes anyway, this is supposed to be about the kids, right?), but my error was in not paying close enough attention to the calendar and alerting Jay's mom ahead of time of the extra day. Sigh.


So when the time came to tell her, she was less than Christ-like about it. She and my mom had words (a sunday school teacher and a deacon), Jay's mom and I had words about it, Jay and I had words about it, I think the neighbors were talking too.


Over one stinking lousy day. 


And all this while I was away for the first time EVER without the kids on vacation with my girl. Ever fight long distance over a cell phone on roaming?


So after apologizing to Jay's mom for messing it up, but emphasizing this was about the kids and they did want to go to the bar-b-que, she said to me, and I quote, "Know what Kelly, 3 or 4 days isn't worth it, why don't you have your mom get them home?"


Let me explain, after the in-laws were to get them, they were to keep them a few days in NY, then were going to drive down to GA and spend a week here (home in time for our July 4th anniversary). Apparently losing a day in NY with them "wasn't worth" seeing the grandkids after all. 


So, some blood, sweat and tears later, my mom buys fifteen hundred dollar plane tickets and they are coming home a week late. Without seeing Jay's parents. And missing the fourth and our ann. (We've announced a mulligan and will be celebrating next weekend, everyone's invited ;) ).


What happened to it being about the kids? I referee 9 other people 99% of the time, I didn't think I was going to have to do the parents too! Is it time to put them in homes? (please?)