See You Next Week

I’m about to become redundant.

My mom is on her way for a visit. This is good, because I love her. It’s also good because it frees me up to spend a long weekend with like-minded horse nuts at the Rocky Mountain Horse Expo.

But the downside is that my kids are about to tell me and my other half to not let the door hit us where the good lord split us. They have absolutely no use for us when Gran is in town.

Not that I need constant reassurance of their love, but I do start to channel a bit of my inner Officer Cartman. When Gran’s here, they tend to not respect my authoritah. They tend to expect constant indulgence. They tend to get whatever they want whenever they want it. They tend to eat 12 pounds of monkey bread a day. They tend to develop an ugly sense of entitlement, an unbecoming attitude that they deserve all and more that my mother does and buys for them.

I take some comfort in the fact that it’s temporary. I know that after she leaves, there will be about a two-week stretch when power struggles will peak before we settle back into our normal routine.

I don’t begrudge either Mom or my kids the fun they have together. They are clearly each other’s favorite people. The Wee Man has even asked that we stop to buy her flowers before she gets here “because I love her so much.”

I just wish there was a little balance. There’s got to be a happy medium where they’re enjoying themselves without gift, sugar and “yes, darlin'” hangovers.

I’ll try to strike that balance — at least for myself — by biting my tongue, not counting calories and accepting a measure of temporary chaos.

I know it all comes from love, and they certainly deserve that.