So I think I've finally recovered from Memorial Day weekend. I feel like I was molested. Or at least abused.
Here is a picture of Monkey on her very own str*ipper thr*one.
At first she was game. And then, she was not. Such is life with a toddler.
I have a new belly pic on my phone, but it died and is currently charging so I can't get to it. But bending over to pick up items Monk purposefully drops is getting more difficult.
So J and I had planned on using his parent's beach house over the 4th for a few months now. Last minute, his older sister got a house in the same neighborhood. And then his parents played it off like they didn't remember we requested to use it that week and asked us if we thought we'd be able to make it that week or sometime before they left. I really don't care that much. I mean, I totally don't feel comfortable romping around in a bikini in my third trimester in front of my MIL and FIL, but I figure I'd just get a tankini for the occasion (to be honest, the price of a maternity tankini that I may never use again is what annoyed me the most. I think if we have a 3rd, I will plan the pregnancy around the maternity clothes I've purchased this time around. I didn't really buy many with Monkey-- member? I sat around all day watching TV?). But J is like clinically depressed. So I discretely turned on Holm*es on Home*s - his favorite TV show- to bring him out of his rut. AND MIL is like british royalty, as well all know, and made a derogatory comment about tattoos (she specifically said that she was behind a pregnant chick and a dude with tattoos at the grocery store and she felt bad for the baby bc its dad had tattoos)- and I have 2 of them (she doesn't know this simply bc she hasn't had the opportunity but she will after the beach because I will make sure my tankini doesn't cover everything) and J was furious at her. But this kind of statement doesn't really affect me. Because when you get a tattoo, a big part of you is saying "f*ck you" to people who don't like them. So it's kind of something you sign up for- it's not surprising that a certain type of person doesn't like them- especially someone like MIL who never goes without nylons, finds low cut shirts trashy and peep toed heels to not be conservative enough for summer funerals. I'm a rebel without a cause. MIL offends me far more when she tries to tell me how to live my life. (example: "M... you are a L*AWYER. You shouldn't be wearing ripped jeans!!!" Homegirl, you don't know the half of it.) A la*wyer wearing ripped jeans AND having tattoos who doesn't ever wear nylons!!!??? Queen MIL is going to crap herself.
What I love the most about her - I may have already shared this gem with my dear friends on the internet- is she TOTALLY has a sordid past completely with moral transgressions. She never had many female friends so she used to sneak into bars underage alone and order whiskeys. She slept with multiple married men and I have a feeling that at least some of those incidents occurred when she had whisky on her breath. These days if you borrow a book from her and there is a monologue about a young girl in over her head in an affair- she will underline it 100 times and star it and stuff. J & I get so nauseated when we come across these underlined paragraphs.
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