My grandson Lachlan is visiting. He lives in Minneapolis with his mom, my daughter Lindsay, and his dad, my son-in-law Kelly. Lachlan comes to California every summer and stays in our guest bedroom with his legos, his Star Wars books from the library, and his clothes. His mom packs for some tropical climate. I go to Target every year to buy more socks, sweaters, and long pants. Northern California is especially cold this summer.

I adore my grandson. So does my daughter Blake who lives nearby. There is a bit of a tug of war over this six year old. Blake has step-children who are Lachlan’s age. I don’t. I have grandchildren whose parents are my husband’s grown children, and some of them are Lach’s age. But Lach doesn’t know them as well as he knows Blake’s kids. I have DVDs and videos and trips to the library. Blake has a Star Wars Wii. I love to have him every minute, and I get tired. Blake has him somewhat less and gets less tired. I feel sad and a bit relieved when he’s not with me. I’m glad to have him back after an overnight.

My husband is often gruff with children (his own and his grandchildren who all live nearby) and I try never to be gruff with Lachlan. My husband feels justified in demanding that Lachlan behave when he’s being a little silly or resistant. My preference is to ignore the behavior til it goes away.

All of this collides when I get especially tired. Lach has been here for 9 days and grandma is pretty bushed. Grandpa looses his patience and yells at Lach. I want to punch grandpa when I see the fear in Lach’s eyes. Blake whisks Lach away and I feel terrible.