We decided to take a short break and leave the kids with my parents. They loved spending time with them, and we really appreciated getting away. We had the chance to reconnect, and take a break from tending to the endless parental needs of an almost four year old, a two and a half year old, and a 9 month old.
After they played, and had their fill of fun and unconditional love, my parents put Kevin and Kayla to bed. They were, I assumed, treating Jordan like the big girl by giving her some special two-on-one time. All was fine until they told Jordan it was time for bed. Not surprisingly, she did not want to go to bed. And she had no problem making them fully aware of this. She screamed and cried (as Jordan had been known to do) very loudly. They told her she needed to stop screaming before she woke up Kayla and Kevin, but she didn’t stop. So my dad explained to her that if she didn't calm down, she would have to go down the basement, where there was no chance of waking them up.
If I would have been there, I certainly could have predicted where this was headed. Fact number one: Once Jordan gets to the point where she is screaming, it pretty much has to run its course. There is not much chance of distracting, explaining or coercing. Fact number two: No matter who they are dealing with, even if it is their beloved, first born grandchild, you can bet money that they are still going to follow through.
So they made Jordan go down the big, cold basement by herself, with the understanding that when she stopped screaming, she could come back up the stairs on her own. The ownness was totally put on her. (Oh... do I remember those days well).
Now I’m not sure just how long Jordan was down there screaming at the top of her lungs: "grandma help me!", but I am sure that it had to be pretty torturous for all involved.
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