Two years ago, I posted a blog shortly after Father’s Day that focused on the joys of grandparenting. As I said then, they include but are not limited to, the following:

• Watching my children as they cope with the same parenting issues I faced with them when they were young.
• Helping shape young lives in a positive way. That involves things as simple as reading them a story or taking them to a playground. But it can also involve taking them on an adventure that will open their eyes to the bigger world that surrounds them.
• Seeing those young lives take root and grow in their own unique ways. It is especially gratifying to see grandchildren develop skills and talents that neither I nor my children have.
• Changing old games or coming up with new ones that are safe and that reduce the likelihood of fighting. Rotational ping pong and anything goes ping pong are two cases in point. (See my November 1, 2020 blog, “Ping Pong Variations Increase Family Fun.”)

Those joys are as much a part of my life now as they were then, but there’s a need to offer some balance to that earlier blog. I wouldn’t say there is a “dark side” to grandparenting, but there are frustrations that act as a counterweight to the benefits. A “yin” to the “yang” so to speak. At today’s combined Father’s Day-Birthday celebration for me, at least one of those frustrations arose, specifically, the difficulty of controlling unruly behavior. That difficulty is compounded when different grandchildren display unruly behavior in different ways and at different times. I’m not going to mention any names, but in the span of less than an hour, a lovely cupcake was demolished, its crumbs spread across the table and unto the floor; a badminton racket was banged repeatedly on a grill; a recorder and piano were played loudly by a child who has no ability with either; the badminton net was knocked down; the bases for a whiffle-ball baseball game were moved without permission; unflattering comments were made when I failed to hit the whiffle ball; adult conversations were interrupted; toys were left on the floor after use; a tricycle was taken out and ridden by a child too old for such a toy. The list goes on.

A second frustration follows from the first — the difficulty of imposing punishment that is firm, fair, and consistent. The fact is, I let all of them get away with too much. It may be because I don’t feel comfortable imposing corporal punishment on them. I did that twice, nine or ten years ago with Nikolai, and it left me feeling very bad, very much a failure. To be sure, I have my limits, especially when dangerous or unhealthy behavior is involved. Christopher and Emma are the two grandchildren I babysit the most these days, and when they misbehave at home, I often deny them a privilege, such as watching TV or playing a game. When they misbehave at my house, a timeout in a chair is often imposed. But there is a lot of misbehavior I don’t punish. That includes refusing to do homework (Christopher), refusing to go to bed (Emma), and being disrespectful (both of them). Why do I withhold punishment? Because years from now, I don’t want them to remember me as a mean old man who yelled at them and treated them harshly. Better to be remembered as an old softy than an old meanie.

One more frustration should be mentioned, and it’s caused by my children and their spouses. They put my grandchildren into multiple activities, and when there is a scheduling conflict with these activities, they sacrifice the ones which give me more enjoyment. This occurs mostly with the Yensel kids, all of whom promise to be above-average athletes. To my chagrin, their parents take them on lengthy vacations or send them to church camps, causing them to miss two, three, or more little league baseball games or (in the case of Naomi) lacrosse games. This, of course, is a selfish feeling on my part, and I have no business criticizing the choices made by my children and their spouses. So I don’t. But I do feel some frustration.

Make no mistake; these frustrations are minor compared to the joys of grandparenting. Indeed, if there were no frustrations, I might take the joys and benefits of grandparenting for granted and become the sour, grumpy type of grandfather I don’t want to be. And that would be a pity for everyone in my family.