Whoa Belly!
I’m sure you were all anxiously waiting for the next belly pic… and here it is! Hopefully it doesn’t get TOO much huger – maybe a few inches more as Elly grows for these last few weeks. Pretty crazy, huh? I know I keep on trying to hurry up her arrival, but then I’ll have to be doing things with a newborn… as if that’s going to be any easier!!! I do want to be done with being pregnant, but more than that, I just want to meet her. I was talking to Craig last night about it; I haven’t had any dreams about her, nor do I have any clue what she’ll even possibly look like. It’s kinda freaking me out!
So, there could possibly be another picture sometime in the next few weeks, but I have a feeling that with all that’s going on, I may not have time to actually get one taken, uploaded, and a silly post written to go along with it. The next picture I post could be of our soon-to-be-born, positively beautiful, tiny baby girl!
I need to vent. I’m really annoyed, and I know that’s not anything new these days, but the annoyance factor goes WAY up when it involves Craig’s parents, and I’m just about to explode. I know I shouldn’t be doing this to myself, so please don’t lecture me on how it’s useless stress or whatever logical thought may be going through your head right now.
Brief history of the annoyance:
A month or so ago, Craig’s parents mentioned this Halloween event that’s going on at one of the campgrounds they go to. The way they presented this information was not just informative though, it was more like “So, you’re letting us take Connor for that weekend in October, right?”
(Um, no. We’re not. You’re too stupid.)
Craig didn’t say much at that point; he just acted surprised, which he was! He had no idea what they were talking about and neither did I, because the really funny thing is… they hadn’t ever mentioned it before. So annoying. So Craig said something like “We’ll see, I mean, that’s pretty far in the future so we’ll have to think about it.” This, Craig should know by now, always translates in his mother’s mind to “YES FOR SURE THEY ARE COMING BECAUSE I EXPECT IT AND THAT’S FUCKING FINAL.”
I forgot about it, until maybe two weeks ago. They mentioned it again, gave us some flyer about how fun it’s going to be, and OF COURSE, we find out that 1) I work today, so they can’t take him today (which they wanted to), and 2) Craig works tonight, so there’s no fucking way I’m going to take Connor and Gus out to some stupid campground with those idiot people when I’m NINE MONTHS PREGNANT… JESUS!
Whew. Anyway, I told Craig this. I really didn’t want to go, and I really don’t want them to take Connor. They’re really really stupid! But he presented this to his parents differently – he said that they could take Connor if they could pick him up and drop him back off. I mean, that’s OK in general – I’m not so protective over Connor that I wouldn’t let him out of my sight in the care of another responsible adult for the day. Even overnight! But the fucking KEY WORD in that is RESPONSIBLE!!!
My mom calmed me down. She said that she would come over after she’s done working, we’ll hang out for the day and even get pedicures (maybe), and it will give me a chance to relax and prepare for Elly, as well as… well whatever. She’s coming over, so I don’t have to sit around all day and dwell on the fact that his parents have my child, and probably everything is chaos around my sweet little boy at every moment of my “relaxing” day. Mom will help. I did feel calmer after talking to her, and I thought that maybe we’d all enjoy our Saturday.
But then… we went out last Friday. Craig’s parents came over to watch Connor for the three hours that we were gone. Connor didn’t nap that day, because he’s kindof straying away from napping. But, without a nap, Connor usually goes to bed easily and without any fuss at around 8:30 or even 8:00 on a busy day. Connor had a cool dinner, a lot of activity during the day, and though he was ready to play with his grandparents, his day was sortof winding down. There is NO winding down with those people though, it’s RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN and then CRASH!!!! I’ve been hoping over the past four years that they would try a little bit to adopt some of our mellowness, but it’s not happening yet.
I told Connor as we were leaving that I had recorded a movie for him on the DVR (which he knows how to use) and he could watch it later for bedtime. I purposefully gave him a long movie, because I knew that those retards would keep him up regardless; I thought that maybe I could try to make it at least a little normal (with a child-oriented quietish movie… it was something about Elmo). Craig’s mom especially likes Connor to fall asleep on her, so I really really was thinking ahead. Anyway.
They ran around like mad people until 10:30ish. Craig’s parents treat Connor like he’s a baby, and even though he IS a small child, he is really smarter than they make him out to be. From the stories his mom was telling me when we got home, it seems like they don’t understand anything he’s talking about, ever. He tells funny little jokes, has a bright imagination, and is really very literate! More so than them, even! But all of the things they found “silly” were real comments from Connor, things that he’s talked to me about, or things relevant to him over the past week… real thoughts. But they let him run around, made fun of how silly he was the whole time, and then probably when they realized that we’d be home soon… they couldn’t figure out how to work the GOD DAMNED TV. Fucking RETARDS. So, Connor was all wound up but also TOTALLY exhausted, and he really wanted to watch that movie that I recorded. He can figure out the DVR, but of course they never gave him the remote to let him do it himself, because they always underestimate him. I guess at some point Craig’s mom took Connor up to bed and told him that she’d come and get him when Papa figured out the TV. He finally fell asleep with that lie in his head – a lie because there was no way Papa was going to figure out the TV, even though he’s some “big man” that should be able to figure out all electronics simply because he has a tiny cock. Connor was on top of his blankets, his daytime clothes were still on, the window was wide open though the forecast said it was going to be 40 degrees that night, and the blinds/shades were open as well.
I know that story is really stupid and I shouldn’t overreact to it, but it’s just been happening for SO long. The only reason I was less hesitant to go out that night than I am to let him go to a campground with them is that at home, he’s less likely to get hurt or to encounter someone icky that could take him or do bad things to him. At home, he knows where the phones are, and he knows how to get ahold of someone if there was an emergency. At home, he knows where the neighbors are, knows where the mommies live, feels comfortable in his surroundings. So, at home, with crazy idiot adults supposedly “watching” him, he can somewhat manage on his own if it became necessary. They are going to have him out in some remote campground, surrounded by freaky camper people (they’re all voting for McCain because Obama’s an “Ay-rab” Muslim terrorist, so that speaks for itself how insanely dumb they all are)…
I’m dwelling like crazy, but I just feel so trapped. I feel like this kind of stuff happens too often, and though I know we can’t control everything in our lives, I’m just so much more willing to relinquish control when it’s NOT Craig’s parents that I’m giving it to. I feel like Craig is constantly holding back when it comes to telling his parents that we’re adults and can make our own decisions, and he’s also constantly giving them more information than necessary… stuff that they’ll use against us in the future. The most awful thing about this all is that I don’t feel like I have support from anyone; my family always makes me out the be the crazy person (sorry Mom, you do), Craig’s never supporting me in this, Connor likes them because he gives them candy…
But you know what? Connor gets lots of crap from them. Gifts, sweets, sugar. That’s what he thinks of when he thinks of Munga Murphee and Papa Murphee – what are they going to give me this time. When they load him up with sugar he has fun with them, but they then give him back to us to deal with the aftermath. When he’s in the bathroom crying because his butt hurts and his belly hurts from all the crap he ate when they were around, he doesn’t link THEM to the pain NOW. He couldn’t possibly; he really is just four years old and those advanced linkages are not part of his development yet.
Blah blah blah.
What sparked this whole huge lingering crappy post was this string of emails that went back and forth between Craig’s mom and I today. Craig, for some psychotic reason, had to tell his mom that MY MOM was coming over while they had Connor out for the day. As if that’s relevant to anything… but what that little bit of information DOES do is it gives Craig’s mom a reason for thinking that she’s doing me a favor by stealing Connor for the whole day. I’m just pissy.
Here are the emails. They’re copied and pasted from Outlook, so the first email from Craig’s mom to me is actually at the bottom, then my response to her, then her response back to me, and the last email (what I forwarded to Craig) is at the top.
Craig’s mom spells “POTATO” with an e.
Message
I figure if you’re not going to be straightforward with your mother about shit, I might as well. And seeing as how I’m pregnant, uncomfortable, and crabby most of the time – I also figure I can get away with it. Here’s the interaction that transpired today; tell me your mother isn’t yelling at me and I will promise not to punch her in the face.—–Original Message—–
From: Ann Beckman [mailto:abeckman@bbcu.org]
Sent: Friday, October 17, 2008 1:35 PM
To: Elizabeth Beckman
Subject: RE: TomorrowYES ON THE COSTUME
From: Elizabeth Beckman [mailto:ebeckman@aliquant.com]
Sent: Friday, October 17, 2008 1:07 PM
To: abeckman
Subject: RE: Tomorrow
My mom isn’t coming over until 4pm because she works tomorrow, so it’s really not a beauty “day”, more of a beauty moment (if we even go). Even so, I really don’t want to spend the day at the campground – it’s hard enough being comfortable in my own house, in my own bed, on my own couch – I just really don’t need to add any more complication to getting comfortable. Thanks for the invite though.Connor doesn’t need any special food or drinks; he really eats normal food like anyone else most of the time, we just try to get healthy options into him during the day (random fruit, veggies, whatever.) He’s not on any special diet or anything though. Sleep is a precious commodity these days, so waking up earlier than 8ish to get him ready is always something I dread, so can Neil pick him up at around 9? Also, just because bedtime is really cruddy with both him and Gus running around, it would be good to have him home at around 7pm. I’ll send his backpack with jammies and whatever else he wants to bring, books/etc.I assume he needs his costume too, right?- Liz—–Original Message—–
From: Ann Beckman [mailto:abeckman@bbcu.org]
Sent: Friday, October 17, 2008 12:35 PM
To: Elizabeth Beckman
Subject: TomorrowThank you so much for letting Connor spend the day with us tomorrow. He and we are going to have so much fun. The only thing that would make it better is that you and Craig could come too. If you and your mom get done with your beauty day, try to come out we will be in Brighton- Bishop Lake Brighton Recreation. on Chilson road. I always love showing off my beautiful family. I will have my cell phone with me at all time, and will keep watch on Connor every second. He is going to be so busy. If there is anything special food or drink you want for him let me know, I will get it. It will most likely be hot dogs and burgers but I am having sloppy joes, chicken noodle soup and potatoe salad. I have organic choc and strawberry milk for Connor and juice and water. He will need a jacket and if you want me to put him in his pj’s before we bring him home give them to Neil. His bicycle and helmet. If you have any requests please let me know. We do not have the dogs, they are at the doggie hotel until Monday.Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!Love youAnn & Neil
Grr.
Having a dog is almost as irritating as having a child – when talking to someone about your choices in care for the specific being, that is. Almost everyone has something to say about child discipline, child rearing, feeding children, bedtimes, etc. It is very infuriating at times, causes extreme confusion and indecision if I allow it to get to me, and usually isn’t very good advice anyway, especially if unsolicited. I seek out my own answers, and choose to raise my child based on my own research and experience.
I have been doing the same thing with Gus so far, and though we’re not at “Dog Whisperer” status by any means, we seem to be doing okay with taking care of a puppy. We give him a loving home, we feed him decent food, we discipline him and train him based on things we’ve read and things we enjoy, and we even sought the advice of a certified dog trainer to give us “expert” analysis of what we’re doing and advice for what might work better. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve got it handled. Sometimes I feel a little overwhelmed and I complain to my mom, and usually that just results in her reassuring me that we’re doing fine. I can then calm down, feel better about hitting a bump in the road and getting over it, and go back to being sane. That’s why I call mom; she’s not pretending to be an expert at dog care (or child care, though having and raising four children qualifies as expert status, in my opinion), and she just understands that sometimes the best way of supporting someone is to simply support them, not offer unsolicited babble about what should be done.
Not very many people are like mom.
In the lunchroom today, which I usually avoid like the plague because I rarely emerge feeling anything but annoyed, I was asked by a colleague how things were going with our puppy. I bet you can guess what colleague that was! Of course, it was the dog expert, NP. Henceforth, I will refer to him as “Dog Wiener”. Mostly he let me just talk about what was going on with Gus, but a few times he interrupted to ask an obnoxious question or two like, “So, Craig is the only alpha dog in the house?” or “Wow, you’re really feeding him four times a day?” The questions were phrased in such a way that I knew what was coming next was a lesson on how I should do things. I just smiled and nodded mostly, because I didn’t feel energetic enough to tell him to fuck off. I mentioned that we are planning on getting the PetSafe collar system, to keep Gus within a specific radius of our house, but we just hadn’t done that yet because of his small size. Dog Wiener immediately said “Oh, yeah, you should get that at PetSmart.” I told him that they have the exact same thing at many places, including the Devil Store (WalMart) and at Cabelas, which happens to be 15 minutes from our home. He then “learned” me about PetSmart, and I didn’t catch all of his babble because… fucking A dude! It’s PETSMART!!! It’s a store! I’ve seen it! I know, not only because of the name but also because I’ve been there, that they SELL PET SHIT! Is it really necessary to act like I’m either some retarded blond ditz, or someone that just emigrated from China?
Anyway, I passed it all off as typical for this place and the wieners that work here, filled up my water cup, and went back to my cube to mope (and blog) a little. A few minutes later, I heard the little “bing!” that sounds off when I get a new email, so I maximized my Outlook to check it out. Dog Wiener had sent me a message with the subject “petsmart”, and within the body of the email he simply left me two links: one to PetSmart, and one to Cabelas.
As if I couldn’t look that shit up myself. I’ll make sure, Dog Wiener, now that you have provided me with the immeasurably useful and difficult to find links to two extremely common stores, to only ever get to these stores online by clicking on your links.
Or, even better, maybe you could just fuck off.
