![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayDreadfully tired of feeling bad for my grandson. He's been passed back and forth, between his mom and dad since he was two. And each of them, in the obliviously selfish way of the young, have demanded so much of him - and usually gotten it: he's a mostly compliant, wanting-to-please-you, little kid - while only giving him whatever's left, whenever it's convenient for them.
Now, there's a new girlfriend in his daddy's life. She was drunk the first three times I saw her, drunk and neurotic and needy. Just right for my laughably delusional son to play Dr. (Phil) with. Laughable if not for the unmet needs of this little boy who now finds himself caught between yet another pair of dysfunctional young "adults."
Just last week, my son said that he'd never do this again - bring another girl into the house and thereby induce yet another round of traumatic change in the life of a little boy who depends on his father for stability - without first being very sure that it was something that would be good and positive and lasting for all of them.
And yet, he's done just that. And I can see it happening once again, that look of confusion, then of loss, in the little boy's eyes. He hasn't quite gotten to that hardened, knowing, "oh god, not this again" look that finally comes with the complete loss of innocence. Which means that right now, in this moment, there's still a chance of preserving something infinitely precious which, once lost, can never be regained.
And that's what's making me crazy, that's what's driving me insane. That there seems no effective way that I can get my endlessly opinionated and self-absorbed son to see any of this. Right now, for myself, I could so easily tell him that he has to leave, that he needs to park his incredibly dumb ass somewhere else. Except for the effect it would have on my grandson.
And so we wait. For that unlikely day when my twenty-something-going-on-two-year-old-son wakes up and figures out how badly he's fucking up his own life and that of his son. That we were there to help him in any way possible but that he squandered the opportunity for both of them.
We wait, as well, for that horrific day when this thoughtless, selfish, shallow young man walks in and says, "Hey, mom and dad, since you've not done much else for me, do you think you could at least hold the door? Little Jay and I are moving out..."
Now, there's a new girlfriend in his daddy's life. She was drunk the first three times I saw her, drunk and neurotic and needy. Just right for my laughably delusional son to play Dr. (Phil) with. Laughable if not for the unmet needs of this little boy who now finds himself caught between yet another pair of dysfunctional young "adults."
Just last week, my son said that he'd never do this again - bring another girl into the house and thereby induce yet another round of traumatic change in the life of a little boy who depends on his father for stability - without first being very sure that it was something that would be good and positive and lasting for all of them.
And yet, he's done just that. And I can see it happening once again, that look of confusion, then of loss, in the little boy's eyes. He hasn't quite gotten to that hardened, knowing, "oh god, not this again" look that finally comes with the complete loss of innocence. Which means that right now, in this moment, there's still a chance of preserving something infinitely precious which, once lost, can never be regained.
And that's what's making me crazy, that's what's driving me insane. That there seems no effective way that I can get my endlessly opinionated and self-absorbed son to see any of this. Right now, for myself, I could so easily tell him that he has to leave, that he needs to park his incredibly dumb ass somewhere else. Except for the effect it would have on my grandson.
And so we wait. For that unlikely day when my twenty-something-going-on-two-year-old-son wakes up and figures out how badly he's fucking up his own life and that of his son. That we were there to help him in any way possible but that he squandered the opportunity for both of them.
We wait, as well, for that horrific day when this thoughtless, selfish, shallow young man walks in and says, "Hey, mom and dad, since you've not done much else for me, do you think you could at least hold the door? Little Jay and I are moving out..."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: Kids!
Date: 2008-05-02 01:44 am (UTC)as for the rest, you're so right about the need to maintain at least the appearance of stability and calm for the little kid. but that part, given his dad's misguided and boneheaded behavior, gets harder by the day. so i appreciate your words of encouragement.
turns out that the ol' lj is a good place to both find counsel and to vent. otherwise, nuclear holocaust on the home front!