Working on her backhand
So to celebrate Papa Man's big 3x we went out for dinner with the family. Once again.. I repeat .. Helloooo relations, are you listening? The idea of going out for a meal with a toddler is NOT my idea of a celebration. It is, instead, a tortuorous 3-day prep-a-phobic stress-a-ganza. Gotta have perfect nap the day of, gotta plan all manner of dripless yet intriguing menu items for such toddler in deference to ridiculously 'cute' grandpeople purchases party clothing, etc, etc.
For Mother's Day there was some sort of picnic and that was ok; especially since they finally caught on that a walk with the kid is a fun thing to do. Last night was a dining room. Oh sweet Mary and Joseph! Dining room with babbling relations taking three quarters of an hour to order; kitchen taking loooooong time to deliver on aforementioned order.
Mother's nerves fraying into a zillion lil' bits.
Child holding fast. Enjoying hat game with auntie.
Child hangin' in discovers swimming pool and hockey rink down the hall. WOW!
Many relatives doing good job chasing toddler and carrying her about.
Ultimately is a trooper, enjoys the ketchup course enormously and only steals one piece of jewelry from the MIL.
Small whining as evening wears on half hour past bedtime.
This is the MIL who has to note what a perfect child she is. [yes of course, it is genetic. entirely falls from the sky] MIL who adds that, when in the arms of her father at least, e. is so content and self assured it is truly wonderful how she is developing.
1. Ah, I do love a backhanded compliment to top off a really ball-busting performance for a family event!
2. Have I mentioned that little will raise my bile than the third person assessments of this child, who is a person, as some sort of development robot!
But I'm not bitter, not anymore, anyway.
ps.. has anyone seen the cross-stitch for Bless this Blog, yet?
posted by mo-wo at 8:17 p.m.
5 Comments:
Dinner out!! Wow....we have even had to leave Denny's apologizing all the way out.
Adam is ok..Caity strikes fear in us and the poor buggers who have to clean the place up!
The backhanded compliments....I love it! My inlaws, thankfully, do not eat out..unless it is Denny's.
My mom just looks at me like I have created some sort of monster and what the hell is wrong with me...and passes the napkins.
I am glad you survived the experience.
First, I have seen the cross-stich. I hinted that I wanted one for mother's day. No go.
Second, apparently we are sharing the same MIL. Every good quality in Chicky Baby is attributed to my husband's wonderful, magnificent gene pool. "Oh, she loves her bath. She's going to be a swimmer like her Daddy." Gag. Maybe she's like me and she just likes to be lazy in a warm tub. Maybe? Perhaps?
Congrats on your mostly successful night out.
Nights like that are to be endured, and then recalled in tranquility.
We have the same MIL, apparently. Wimbledon-worthy backhand on that woman. And, Mistress of the Developmental Assessments ("oh, H and S and R *all* walked early. It must be in the genes.")
AND. Despite all evidence to the contrary (E. has some of her father's characteristics but otherwise is a dead-ringer - DEAD RINGER - for me) the MIL insists that E. is (Husband's last name here) through and through. So I - confrontational bitch that I can be - drag out my own baby photos, which look like staged 70's stunt shots of E, so identical to her mother is she, and MIL says - 'you really look like H. (Husb's sister). Must be where she gets it.'
ugh, yes, the claim laying. Grrr. Totally irrational, but it grates me every time we walk in and the MIL says, "How's my little girl?" Some small, petty part of me wants to say, "Back off! She's MY little girl!"
Glad to hear you weathered it and hopefully won't have to do it again too soon. The pack-o-rama is always fun. I feel like a sherpa some trips.
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