Holidays

Whilst administering bottle to my 2nd born questa matina, I was watching some morning "newsmagazine" (I hate this term, btw).  The segment? Christmas decorations are out.  Hold on... wait for it... WHO CARES, right?  I totally dig Xmas decor and if they had frosty out all year long, I would be super happy.  Like those neighbors that everyone hates who leave their inflatable Santa in their yard through February?  Love them. They make me feel the Christmas spirit in the depths of the dark winter months. God Bless Them.

Anyway, anxiety was stirred up in my soul.  Why?  Why do you think?  It got me thinking about my in-laws and subjecting my dear children to their hoodlum cousins who like to touch themselves and tickle Monkey in questionable places and eat her food and don't give her personal space and try to carry her.  My blood pressure f*cking skyrockets when I even see PICTURES of these a$$holes (ages 4 and 6, respectively- just to shed some light onto how freaking unbelievably immature I am in calling seriously young children a$$holes).  Good SIL informed me on the phone the other night that the 6 year old boy is now on ADHD medication.  I noticed this at the family reunion because his gaze never left the television set the entire time- which is exactly how I like him.  As for the 4 year old girl?  Not so much.  Good SIL always says, 'F-- is OBSESSED with Monkey.  Talks about her all the time, wants to buy her gifts.'  I think this is really cute.  I appreciate that she loves her cousin.  My only wish is that she would chill the eff out and give Monkey some personal space and, in turn, Monkey's mother some peace of mind.  And stop touching her on or around her diaper because...umm... that feels like molestation to me.  I am anxious about how I will closely police Monk's cousins around Monkey while simultaneously administering to and protecting H*llary- who will no doubt be the object of some irritating cousin's affection.

All of this policing lies on my shoulders alone because... ain't nobody else doing any policing.  We have Good SIL who doesn't see the harm in her children molesting my children.  We have BIL who is too busy grilling or watching sports or drinking scotch.  If he happens to catch one of his kids doing something obnoxious, he gives a holler, they stop and then he returns to what he was doing and his kids return to being bad.  Example: F (the 4 year old girl) made fun of how Monkey pronounces "Thank you."  She says, 'Dan-doo'  And, my friends, coming from her mother, it couldn't be cuter.  First of all- she has manners.  This is more than I can say for her cousins.  Second of all, she was 18 months.  So excuse her incorrect pronunciation.  The 4 year old started laughing hysterically and making fun of her pronunciation.  The killer? Monkey realized she was being mocked.  She stopped speaking and just stared at F who was going, 'Ahh hahahahahaha DAN DOO. AHHHAHAHAHA why does she say it like that?'  I WANTED to say, 'Hey, F- why whenever you are wearing a dress or skirt do you pin your legs behind your head and give everyone a freaking crotch shot?  Don't you realize that we're trying to EAT?  And why, when you do us the courtesy of putting your legs back down, do you stick your hands down your underwear to do God-knows-what?  And then not wash your hands before grabbing our children, our food, our children's food, etc...?'  I didn't say this though, of course.  I simply said, 'F.  She is 18 months old.  Don't make fun of her.  We are encouraging her to talk.'

BIL heard me say this, looked over and said, 'F... be nice, okay?'

I know.  I am a total helicopter mom.  At my own family functions or when I get her together with her friend who is her age from daycare, I am not.  I just am weary of older children who aren't old enough to realize that she is really small.

Anyway, MIL will occasionally see the kids acting up or grabbing my baby on the face and say something totally air-headed like, 'Is F allowed to stick her fingers in Monkey's eyes?'  To which I will respond, "NO!  Make her stop."  And then MIL will say, 'Okay.  I didn't think so, but I wanted to be sure.'  And then will say gently, 'F.  Don't do that.'  And F will promptly ignore her and continue to poke my baby's eyes til I grab baby from MIL.  It's like I'm surrounded by incompetence.

J is my freaking ally.  Numero uno.  He yells at those hoodlums more than anyone and protects Monkey like crazy.  HOWEVER, it is his family function and him and his dad (and often BIL) are often enjoying a glass of vino and in deep conversation about something that I would like to be apart of but am too busy saving the life of our child.

J pulled through hardcore at the fam reunion- the 6 yr old boy was kicking a soccer ball AT Monkey who was standing innocently in the grass.  J was yammering on to his dad. I screamed to J, "J!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WATCH THE BALL!!!!  N (6 yr old) IS KICKING IT AT MONKEY!!!"  Frankly, I didn't care who hated me at that point, as I was too busy hating them.  J intercepts the ball and kicks it directly at the 6 year old.  It hit the 6 year old in the stomach- not hard but hard enough to make a point.  The 6 year old said, 'Ow...' To which J responded, 'How did that feel?  Stop kicking the ball at Monkey.' 

Anyway, because J is usually lost in conversation for a great deal of this time, he has no clue how dangerous and stressful his family's holidays are for me since we have had children.  Previously, I would just get tanked and try to hide from Evil SIL.  Now I'm sober and saving lives. 

So when my mom asked yesterday, 'Can I have T-giving on T-giving this year instead of the Saturday after?' I got scared.  I was hoping to dodge his family's Xmas, which is usually a sleepover.  If we give my mom T-giving, we will have to give his family Xmas.   This, my friends, is bad news.