Granny Mule--Oops, Donkey

I guess when one has a full life, one’s life is really full.

It seems as though I have been so busy entertaining my 8 year old granddaughter that my brain has suffered a little from the over stimulation. Mind you, I love the over stimulation to a certain extent because I have not had uncontrollable stimulation in a long time. She has helped me to realize that I do not have too much control over too much. I never know when I will be prompted to wade through another tantrum abate they are fewer these days. I am not good with bribery, but I have resort to bribery just to get a little peace--faster with fewer words.

My daugher will probably scream because I once told her that my grandson was being bribed to do things at the youth club where he was a member. You see, he was given candy and other concessions to do things much as Pavlov’s dog was given a treat to go through the maze when prompted--behavorial reponses. I exclaimed that he is a human, and I thought it would behoove him to be prompted in other ways rather than with treats--sugery at that. Although at the time, I had no other suggestions. I still felt to bribe a child to do what is expected of anyone as unnatural; it was purely an unsound behavorial approach--pompous of me to say the least.

Fast Forward--15 years. This week I found myself "bribing" my granddaughter. The bribe: if she got up every morning without any fanfare, that I would buy her a "Webkinz" at the end of each week. Of course, we had to do the "pinky" swear and promise and all the excitement that goes with the "bribe." I must admit that I am ashamed of myself. I must admit that it would be easier to have the child in bed by 9:00 pm. I have put the child in camp and begged the counselors to wear the child out, but when I go to pick up the child the counselors are the only ones who are tuckered out...the children seem to be wired or winded up.

Consequently, I take my grand for a walk around the mall or to the grocery store or run an errand. We go home for a bite to eat, or we eat out or get take out. The only person who is tuckered out when we get home is me. I literally pass out. Now, I have a feral child who roams the condo looking for things to do...the computer for Webkinz and Nickturbo for music and games, the refrigerator is raided for milk which cost as much as a gallon of gas. The milk is consummed as though she runs on it, and the TV for more Nick-- no cartoons--I can’t stand them.

Mind you, I have tried my level best to out perform this little dynamo who keeps on running like that pink "EverReady" bunny. One of my problems is a lack of playmates for her if there were children in my 55+condo then it would be a no brainer, but there are no children--she said, "just old people just like you"--I can handle it. One of my colleagues suggested that I find playmates for her. I had to give it a little thought because that means that I would have to take my turn with the other child or children. That means I would have to entertain not one but maybe two or more "EverReady" bunnies. Then, I would look worse than the haggarded counselors, who thank me graciously for bringing her--if they only knew. I don’t want to go to that banquet table for even more children.

One thing is for certain I intend to survive this summer. I have begun to believe that God doesn’t give you any more than you can carry. My grandmother told me that one. She said, "Always remember the donkey if the load gets too heavy the donkey will simply sit down."

Smart donkey....huh?