Later Life Talkback - 7
 Talkback is a regular
feature in laterlife.com run by journalist and author Helen Franks.
Welcome to talkback 7
Read Helen’s views and ideas, then add your own by
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| Hi, I’m Helen – your host on talkback. Like you,
I have fifty-plus interests which make for a varied lifestyle. Mine include a husband,
three grown-up children, two sons-in-law, four grandchildren and a father aged 97. I do
some charity work, enjoy walking in the country (hills, but not mountains), go to the gym,
attend yoga classes and a wonderful jazz dance class in which you forget the aerobic
effort as you exercise along to Old Blue Eyes. That’s as well as writing on health
issues. The novel will have to wait |
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| Talkback 7
GRANDMOTHERS
FOOTSTEPS
 I once had this horrible stand-up row with
one of the grandchildren. She was four at the time and here's what happened…
She wants a ride in the pushchair as we return from a trip to the park, but her
two-year-old brother isn't budging. She moans, she screams. I laugh at first, then
entreat, argue, ignore and finally shout as loudly as she does. Ignore the little one too,
since I do not wish to draw attention to the smug expression on his face.
Of course I provide daughter with full confession later, comforted by recent survey
stating that a quarter of children listen when their grandparent says 'eat up your
greens'. Must try it some time. Daughter points out that it takes a degree of trust and
intimacy to yell and sulk for a full twenty minutes in public (grandchild, not me).
The thing is, what do I do next time? Daughter suggests Strategy and Negotiation.
A week later I come prepared: 'Listen kids, we go to the park but he stays in the
pushchair all the way there. Coming back, you'll get a chance to change over. I'll give
you advance notice. But no scenes, no arguments, that's the deal. Understood?'
They both nod, awed. A sense of power surges in me. Then, 'But only if you sing a song
grandma'. We settle for Me and My Girl for her, Yellow Submarine for him, and sing along
without incident. No one comes over and suggests an audition for Opportunity Knocks or
whatever equivalent there is nowadays.
We get to the playground, all smiles. Well, not me actually, since they instantly rush off
in opposite directions and I still haven't gained the knack of seeing two ways at the same
time. 'Grandma, look at me', calls the older one. I look and see her perilously high on
the climbing frame. 'Great', I say, trying to fix a grin on my face.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot what looks like a child terrorist making a beeline
in the direction of the younger one - you know the kind: the ones that beat up other
children who happen to get in their way. And yes, as usual, the guardian of said terrorist
sits unconcerned talking earnestly to her friends. They always do. I sigh. Perhaps
child terrorists don't get competitive about rides in pushchairs.
'We're going home now or I'll die of anxiety' - No, I don't actually say that. The little
one gets smartly into the pushchair. I nod. The older grandchild nods. We singalong
happily.
As we approach the corner of their road, I give due warning. 'If he chooses to get out
when we reach the lamppost, it's your turn. That's the deal. Remember he's got smaller
legs, but you never know your luck.' 'Yes grandma,' the older one says. 'What does knowing
your luck mean?' I promise I'll explain later.
 For now, I address the younger one: 'See
the lamppost? Maybe you'll like a walk by then?' 'Yes' he says, miraculously energised. I
unpadlock him from the seat and they race on together as I do a slow run with the empty
pushchair, thinking of ways to explain never knowing your luck.
On this occasion I knew mine.
OK - so how would you have handled it in the first place?. Send any ideas and hints
on how to manage recalcitrant grandchildren to me at Talkback email - helen@laterlife.com
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Talkback index -
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take a look at Helen's Healthwise column too |
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