Things They Don't Tell You About Raising Your Grandchildren

She has been crying silently in the back seat for ten minutes. She is trying to be brave for her brother and sister, so she keeps her head down. She is confused and sad. My heart is breaking into pieces as I try to drive us home. I keep telling her that I know she doesn't understand, but she will be ok. I also tell her that her daddy loves her and she will see him again.

I focus on the road to keep from crying. She is only six and she must be thinking she is to blame for all of this. She hangs her head as if she has just gotten caught redhanded stealing, her guilt as plain as the tears running down her cheeks. She really doesn't understand. All she knows is that she is not going home with her daddy. Little girls, as we all know, love their daddys.

We have to rewind to three hours earlier, to get the whole reason behind the current scene unfolding in the back seat. I have told the kids they are going to see their daddy today. They are so happy and excited. They love him, and have missed him. Over the past year they have had visits with both mommy and daddy, but they always go home with grandma. They are too young, for the most part, to understand why this is, but for my Haybear, I think it is torture.

Right now, she is dancing and laughing and telling her cousins that she is daddy's princess. They are all excited beyond measure. I am happy for them, but as I watch her dancing, smiling, and laughing, it hits me. I begin to worry, I hope this time the tears won't come and I pray that everything goes well. It has to. The kids need this. They are looking forward to it.

Nothing can prepare you for the tears that come at the end of these visits. The younger the children the easier it is though. They are more resilient and quickly move on to the next thing. I have seen, in my oldest, the pain and the guilt. I have tried to explain that all of this is not her fault and that mommy and daddy love her. For now though, she and her siblings will stay with me.

I spend my night after the visit trying to reassure all of the kids they are loved. I remind them that mommy and daddy love them and we will see them as often as we can. I hold my Haybear and tell her how much I love her and how wonderful she truly is. I hold her tiny hand in mine and I tell her again how none of this is her fault. She seems so small during these talks and in reality she is. Six years have brought many things to her life and I pray this is one thing that won't always hurt so much.

Once the kids go to bed, I cry. I cry because of the pain in their eyes and because I can't fix it. All I can do is tell them I love them. I pray that God will give me the wisdom to find just the right words to help them, and I pray that this will get easier for them.

I have a new found respect for people who foster children. It must be hard to open your home to children and then have to try to comfort them through this pain that they don't understand. I am the kid's grandmother and it takes everything I have not to cry with them.

Tomorrow things will be back to normal and my Haybear, will be back to her loving self. I am amazed at how she gets back in to the routine of things. I think maybe it helps, because it is normal for us. She will, of course, tell everyone about how much fun she had with her daddy, and for that I am grateful. It means she is happy.

Our life continues, and we are making it work. I still forget to pack pull ups sometimes, but the kids and I are making a life. We have our routines and we have a home. Most importantly we have lots of love.

My saga as mom 2.0 continues, and I am looking forward to seeing what lies ahead for us. I know that we will meet every challenge and come out stronger.