Me V/S Pappaw : 4th of July Smackdown

I can't believe I only remembered this today to share with the blogosphere. But at least I did recall what transpired between myself and my Pappaw aka my Dad's Father on the 4th.

We arrived early, around 11am. The kids immediately ran to the playroom and settled in. Shortly after my cousin arrived with his brood (another 4 children) which meant there were 8 children in all running around wildly. Jimbo and I stayed inside to supervise but after an hour or so I decided to take a walk outside to visit. It figures as soon as I did Vincent would take note and come along with me.

So I get outside and Vincent bounds off the porch to the playset. I'm talking to my Father, Pappaw, Nana (his wife), my cousin and my new uncle (by marriage). All is right with the world until I hear Vincent's cry. I know the cry very well, it's his "pain" cry. I turn to see he's hit his head on the corner of the wooden stairs. Obviously it hurts.

"Come here Vince." I soothe and reach out to him. He limps over to me as he also tripped after hitting his head and hit his shin.

"Momma," he whimpers as he walks into my arms.

As I'm comforting my child Pappaw says:

"Tell that boy to suck it up."

I look up slowly, hoping he is joking but the look in his eyes tell me he is most definitely not.

"What? Suck it up? Are you kidding?" I say.

"He's a boy, he needs to suck it up and shake it off." He stares at Vincent with the oddest expression and I feel that Lioness roar up inside me.

"Well you know what?" I say back hotly. "He doesn't have to suck up shit and do you know why? Because I'm his Momma and I will suck it up for him!"

We stare for a moment before I stand up with Vincent in my arms and go back inside. Once there I hurry to Jimbo to bitch and rant. I'm so furious I'm shaking. How dare this old fart tell my 3 year old to suck it up? He's just a kid! Jimbo is shocked and when I tell my Mom she is livid. I spend the rest of the day avoiding Pappaw until he's about to leave. As if he knows I'm still angry he hugs me and tries to make small talk. I'm polite as he is my Grandfather but I'm still angry. He leaves and sadly I know deep down my opinion of him has changed, quite possibly forever.

Want to know the incredibly funny part of all of this? My Grandfather and Grandmother left my Dad and his siblings when they were just little babies (my children's ages). They were raised by my Mammaw instead, I still remember the grief my Dad experienced when she passed. It's the only time I've ever seen him cry. So forgive me if I don't take parenting instructions from someone who never had it in him to parent.