Last week at the park, I watched a grandmother hand her grandson his third ice cream cone of the afternoon while his mother stood nearby, jaw clenched, clearly biting her tongue.
The look that passed between the two women told a thousand stories—and suddenly, I understood something profound about why grandparents seem to throw all the rules out the window.
We’ve all seen it, right? The same people who once rationed our Halloween candy now slip our kids endless treats. The parents who enforced strict bedtimes suddenly let their grandkids stay up watching movies until midnight. It’s enough to make you wonder if aliens replaced your parents with softer, more indulgent versions of themselves.
But here’s what I’ve come to realize: this isn’t really about spoiling the grandkids at all. It’s something much deeper, much more poignant. It’s about healing old wounds and making amends for perceived failures—even if those failures only exist in their own hearts.
The weight of parental regret runs deeper than we think
Think about your own parents for a moment. When they were raising you, they were probably in their twenties or thirties—stressed about mortgages, climbing career ladders, figuring out marriage, and trying to keep tiny humans alive all at the same time. The pressure was immense. Every decision felt monumental. Every tantrum felt like a personal failure.
My mother recently confided in me that she still carries guilt about working late so many evenings when I was young. “I missed so many bedtime stories,” she told me, her eyes welling up. Mind you, this was thirty-five years ago, and she was a single mom doing her absolute best. But that regret? It never fully went away.
Now when she reads to Ellie and Milo, she doesn’t just read one book—she reads five, six, seven books until they’re practically begging her to stop. Is she spoiling them? Maybe. But I think she’s also trying to fill a void that’s been aching in her chest for decades.
Grandparents finally have what they didn’t have before: time and perspective
Remember how your parents always seemed to be rushing? “Hurry up, we’re late!” “No time for that now!” “Maybe later!” Sound familiar?
Well, grandparents are usually retired or working less. They’ve already climbed their mountains. The rat race is over. Suddenly, they have this magical resource they never had enough of when raising their own kids: time.
But it’s not just about having more hours in the day. It’s about perspective. They now know that childhood is fleeting. They understand that the dirty handprints on the wall and the spilled juice on the carpet don’t actually matter.
What matters is the giggle when you blow raspberries on a toddler’s belly or the way a five-year-old’s face lights up when you say yes to building one more blanket fort.
My dad, who once insisted we eat every vegetable on our plate before leaving the table, now lets Milo eat crackers for dinner when he visits. When I raised an eyebrow, he shrugged and said, “Life’s too short for food battles with a two-year-old.” This from the man who once made me sit at the table for two hours over brussels sprouts!
The invisible conversation happening between generations
Here’s where it gets really interesting. When grandparents spoil their grandchildren, they’re often having an unconscious conversation with their adult children—with us. Every extra cookie, every bent rule, every “yes” where there used to be a “no” is almost like an apology.
They’re saying: “I see now that I was too rigid. I understand now that I should have been more patient. I realize now that work wasn’t as important as I made it seem.”
And you know what? Sometimes it stings a little. When my mom drops everything to attend every single one of Ellie’s dance practices, part of me remembers the recitals she missed when I was young. When my father-in-law builds elaborate Lego creations with Milo for hours, my husband admits he feels a pang remembering how his dad was always too tired after work to play.
But here’s the thing—this isn’t about making us feel bad. They’re not trying to show us up or undermine our parenting. They’re trying to do better this time around, even if “this time” isn’t really their responsibility anymore.
Why this actually benefits everyone (even when it drives us crazy)
Yes, it can be frustrating when grandma loads the kids up with sugar right before bedtime. Sure, it’s annoying when grandpa buys them the toy you specifically said no to. But take a step back and look at what’s really happening.
Our kids are getting to experience unconditional love and acceptance from another source. They’re building memories of feeling special, chosen, and delighted in. They’re learning that different relationships have different rules and boundaries, which is actually a pretty sophisticated social skill.
And our parents? They’re getting a second chance to experience the joy of childhood without the pressure of being the primary disciplinarian. They’re healing parts of themselves they might not even realize needed healing.
Matt and I have started to see it differently. Instead of getting frustrated when his parents spoil the kids, we’ve begun to view it as a gift—both to our children and to his parents. We hold our boundaries where it really matters (safety, values, major behavioral issues), but we’ve loosened up about the small stuff.
Moving forward with grace and understanding
If you’re struggling with grandparents who seem to have forgotten every parenting rule they once enforced, try to remember that this isn’t really about you or your kids. It’s about them trying to make peace with their own parenting journey.
Have honest conversations, but approach them with compassion. Set boundaries where you need to, but maybe let the small stuff slide. That extra scoop of ice cream isn’t going to ruin your child, but the memory of grandma sneaking them treats might become something they treasure forever.
Most importantly, take note. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll be grandparents too. We’ll probably look back and wish we’d worried less about organic snacks and screen time limits. We might regret the times we were too tired to play or too stressed to really listen.
And when that day comes, we’ll probably spoil our grandkids rotten too—not because we’re trying to undermine our adult children, but because we’re trying to whisper across time to our younger selves: “Slow down. Enjoy this. It goes by so fast.”
The grandmother in the park with the ice cream cones? She’s not just giving her grandson a treat. She’s giving herself permission to be the parent she wishes she could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what everyone needs.
