Christmas

So this year we did the same thing: Up to J's sister's (and now her 3 kids), children's service (ugh), country club for dinner (The food was good, but at one point I was eating crab and I looked down and realized just how much the crab I was eating looked like a crab and I immediately felt nauseous and lost my appetite. Also, it's difficult to eat while feeding an 11 month old in the high chair next to you bits of cheese and dealing with the 5 year old crawling beneath the table and lifting it every so often, spilling your water and your wine).

Back at the home front we exchanged gifts. MIL again announced how much she "enjoyed every second" of being pregnant over 31 years ago. I reminded her that that is because she was able to drink every night. She said, 'I didn't drink that much. Just a glass or two a day.' I told her I would've killed for a glass or two a day and then stated that I will probably have a bit more than just 1 glass a trimester the next time around. She got all serious and said, 'They don't recommend it.' I then got all serious and asked her why I was expected to live up to higher standards than her. Silence ensued.

The next morning J awoke throwing up. I was annoyed, as I thought he was hung over. Turns out- he wasn't! He had the flu. Monkey was not feeling well either. She could barely lift her head. I asked MIL to hold her while I packed. She then approached me and said, 'She's laying her head on my shoulder. Does she do that to you?'

Is this b*tch for real? What kind of question is this? I'M HER MOTHER! OF COURSE SHE LAYS HER HEAD ON MY SHOULDER. I gave her a confused and annoyed look and responded, 'Yes. Of course.'

I then began frantically searching the house for Monkey's pacifier. Mind you, the house is TRASHED from all the people staying there and the 4 children. I brought 3 paci's, but naturally, they were gone. MIL says, 'You should always bring more than one pacifier. It is the ultimate comfort to a baby.'

Again, is this b*tch for real? I wanted to remind her that she's unable to watch Monk for over 2 hours without calling us for help. Why is she giving me baby advice again? I felt the need to defend myself, which pissed me off even more.

J tells me time and again that it isn't personal- she's just a f*cking idiot. I know this is true. She really means no harm and she would cry her eyes out if I said any of this to her (obviously). But her idiocy grates directly on my nerve-endings. I start out every gathering able to overlook her rude insinuations. By hour 12, I'm spent and ready to pounce. Particularly when she's critiquing my mothering- she who is unable to babysit any of her grandkids.

Ahh, back to the delightful 2.5 hour ride home. So J is puking in the front seat, warning me that he may or may not sh*t his pants (just telling it like it is, folks) while a sick Monkey (we didn't know she was sick yet- that's where it gets fun) is screaming her head off in the back. She's starving. Normally one of us would reach our arm around and hold her bottle for her. But I was driving and J was puking, so that really wasn't an option. I would like to add that this is on a 5 lane highway outside NYC. So it's not exactly a relaxing drive.

I dropped J off at home and headed another hour to my gma's. Once we got there, my mom left bc she was throwing up. Nice.

20 minutes later, Monkey projectile vomits all over me, my grandma's chair and my grandma's carpet.

My sweet uncle cleaned up Monk while I cleaned up me. Then I waited another hour or so to make sure Monk wasn't going to go the whole nine yards on me. I didn't want to drive home while she's puking in the back alone. All was well and we made it home. Home sweet home.

She's puked a few times a day since Saturday. J is better, though.