How I Explained My Need for Downtime to My Three-Year-Old Grandchild

Unsuccessfully, of course, but maybe I planted a seed

for Unsplash+ Kateryna Hliznitsova

My three-year-old granddaughter just experienced the dubious gift of a new sibling.

This is dubious for all the obvious reasons. Her mom is nursing the baby, and her father is giving an assist wherever possible — whether it’s waking the baby up and changing him, doing laundry, meal prep, and overall keeping the house running.

The living room, which had once been empty, now has a bassinet. It’s a clear visual reminder that life is different now.

On the surface, and even below the surface, the granddaughter, who I will call Rachel, is welcoming the change. Rachel looks forward to being able to read to her baby brother.

Rachel even gave the baby some of her favorite “stuffies” (her way of saying “stuffed animals”) to have near him. She sometimes sneaks the smallest stuffie by his feet in the bassinet, even though she knows none are allowed. Still, she imagines “Samantha, the squirrel” to be comforting.

Rachel also slobbers the baby with kisses… well, she would, but her smart parents prohibit the kisses planted on the baby’s face until he is at least six weeks — as they’ve explained to Rachel and me. I am called Bubbie, which is Yiddish for grandmother.

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There is one indication, though, that suggests Rachel is somewhat unsettled by the change. She has now woken up very early every morning since her brother was born. We are starting week three.

This morning at 7 A.M., Rachel was calling for me with a loud and long, “Bubbie!” I am visiting for two weeks to help my daughter and her family, which is a complete win-win, though a tiring one.

This morning, while everyone else slept, and after two hours of play and many forewarnings that playtime would be coming to a close, I said very matter-of-factly,

“Rachel, I need downtime.”

It was clear she understood. The problem was she didn’t like the concept. For starters, she didn’t need it, and she could have me, a grownup, without having to share her precious resource.

So, this was our conversation at the end of our first hour of play on that early morning.

Me: Rachel, I am just letting you know I can read to you, or I can read to me, but I can no longer play games.

Rachel: Can we do one puzzle first, and then you can read to me?

Me: Rachel, where is the downtime in that? “Downtime” means needing a break to recharge my energy.

Rachel: But I don’t need downtime.

Me: But I do, and remember last time we talked, I explained the idea of “generosity of spirit?” That was the idea that we need to find ways in how we act that show kindness to others.

Rachel: Yes, I remember that.

Me: So this would be another example. By letting me relax a bit while mommy and daddy and baby sleep, you are showing me kindness and generosity of spirit.

Rachel: Okay, but can I first read to you?

Rachel has some picture books that were gifts to the baby that she likes to read, and I am certain will soon be read to the baby — by Rachel.

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Our conversation wasn’t perfect by any stretch, so I was still searching for a way to help Rachel understand my needs. I explained to Rachel that when I have downtime, I often have tea and maybe a small snack while I read.

That’s when I heard,

“Bubbie, that’s a great idea. What snack should I have?”

By the time she figured out her snack, which I helped her get, the baby had woken up, and Rachel’s dad came downstairs to join us.

“Bubbie, if you want downtime, you can have it now. Daddy is here.”

My response (besides a chuckle)?

“Thank you, Rachel. Someday, there will be a time when you will need your quiet — your downtime. Maybe you will be feeling that people are asking you to do too much. Maybe you’ll just be tired for no obvious reason. When that happens, you might end up saying, ‘This is what Bubbie told me about — downtime!’” I smiled when I said this.

Rachel came over and gave me an unprompted hug.

And then… I finally got my downtime. It was sweetly appreciated — like a jug of water when you’ve been walking through the desert.

I really needed a break.

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I was thinking that one of my jobs as a Bubbie was not to be heavy-handed in my lessons but to pick a moment or two where I have something to say that Rachel might hear one day and plant the seed. I know she won’t hear it much now.

I also want to be that fun Bubbie who bakes cookies with Rachel (we have), does puzzles, and finds humor in every corner.

It’s a tall order, and I feel very blessed to have the opportunity — early morning and all. While I am still finding my way, the Bubbie role feels natural and purposeful.

I am hopeful that a mix of fun and rules to live by will take root. Not lost on me are all the lessons Rachel teaches me (and she doesn’t even know).

Some new chapters need to be written on topics that include:

“Just the right amount of patience — not too much and not too little,” and

“Things aren’t what they seem, so don’t assume you understand,” and

“Mess is healthy — in every way possible.”

It’s like I’m back in school, only it’s more fun. Who knows… maybe Rachel and I will someday write the chapters together — after we’ve had sufficient downtime, of course.