You remember that scene in Talledaga Nights when the kids are all excited that their parents are getting divorced because it means two Christmases? What? You don’t watch old ass Will Farrell movies every night after your kid goes to bed? Shame on you!
Anyway, Nana moving to Rhode Island and having a bed bound great-grandma and having a whole other side of the family to boot is a lot like that. Except instead of two you get four! Yay! That means I made eight Easter baskets this year. Eight (three for Lil G + one each for the nieces and nephews) Easter baskets. I hid eggs three times. I am Eastered out, friends. Actually, I was Eastered out a couple of weeks ago. I had forgotten that real Easter was this week until Saturday afternoon. Because? Duh, it was Walking Dead day!
But, it was real Easter this past week. As I’m not religious, there was no church service. And, my mum lives out of state. And, my sister was there visiting her. And, my brother had to work. And, so did my Dad. And, the rest of my family IS religious, so they did have church services. I had no excuse to not have to go deal with my MIL. I was supposed to go watch my Mamaw for the Wiccans, but they cancelled on me. So, alas, I had to go.
It was not as bad as expected, but also worse. Seeing Uncle P was awesome, I miss him so much. And Bro C and Fire Crotch were pleasant (they were not last time I saw them). MIL was as grating as always. We just bring out the worst in each other, I think. I tried my hardest to keep my mouth shut and just let her play with the boy. But… there was smoking going on (outside, but if you can smell it, you’re breathing in too much smoke) and he had to be kept away. (Seriously people ASTHMA, ASTHMA!!! It’s a real fucking thing and grr!!) Of course she “doesn’t believe in asthma.” Doesn’t believe in it. Like the goddamn tooth fairy. I said nothing. When my baby started coughing and she made comments like “oh is that a “sign”?” I said nothing. (Yes!!! Coughing is a sign of asthma!!! Especially when people are smoking upwind of the asthmatic baby!!! I checked his breathing, moved him away from the smoke and gave him water as needed. Thankfully, he didn’t need his puffer. Of course, she doesn’t believe in “those puffers” either. For real. Even though she made several comments along the “I couldn’t do this all day” route I didn’t quip with “well, I DO do this all day, hence the less than spotless house.” I didn’t quip at all. No, I stood there on my aching feet and watched from a distance. When he bonkered his head and wanted me, I picked him up and ignored the constant barking of “Let Grandma see!” coming over my shoulder. I didn’t answer “Never!!!” to her constant refrains of “Grandma has this at her house for you to play with.” I feel I did the best I could. I wasn’t rude or bitchy. But, I was quiet. It was fine.
Today I had the fleeting thought “You know, I could let her take him to McDonald’s or somewhere to play and get the afternoon to myself.” And that’s when I knew. The floodgates are opening. Letting Aunt C watch the babies for my treatments (which I genuinely do not mind at all) paved the way, then going to Easter like all was well just added to the cracks. It’s not that she’s a bad Grandma, or that he doesn’t like her (why does he have to like her?). It’s that I can’t trust her to not paint me in a bad light to him. I know I can’t. I can’t trust her to not take the word of an imaginative two year old (FYI, my living room is frequently on fire due to all of the dragon attacks…) to children’s services. I can’t trust her to not take NORMAL marks (the kid jumps off of the furniture on the daily, he has marks) to children’s services. I can’t trust her alone with my son. Not because she won’t take care of him. But because she doesn’t have my families (and thus his) best interests at heart.