Furious George

I am beyond pissed off right now. The past several weeks and the next several weeks are a rather intense time for me in my PhD program. Admittedly, this is in part due to my personal choices, and as was rather pointedly clarified for me by a certain in-law, being in my PhD program at all is "personal choice." And apparently, because I've made such a choice, I have no room to complain. (BullShit ma'm, Bullshit. Everyone complains about their choices. Usually about the parts of their choice that are beyond their control. But THAT, is another post).

So, it is during this intense time that I have received, not one, but two letters from two separate family members. In short, these letters are essentially asking me (and Mr. R by proxy) to change our values and beliefs regarding our son to better accommodate these family members and their values and beliefs. OUR son.

I'm beyond pissed. And I just don't get it. I wouldn't be so angry if I didn't want our son to have a relationship with these people. After all, the "are family." This has been my mantra since before Mr. Random and I married - he doesn't quite share it and is ready to just not have a relationship with members of his family if they can't respect him and his wishes. (one of the letters is from his side, one from mine). I'm starting to get on his band-wagon, because this is ridiculous.

One letter basically says that they won't be told what they are and aren't allowed to do with regards to our son. That they have certain "privileges" on account of being a grandparent. Maybe we're weird in that we don't agree? We think that being the parent means we get to say what they can and cannot do with our son? (this is like...big things...like force-feeding a 9 month old cookies w/o checking first with his mother to see if (1) he can handle that food texture and (2) oh....if he might not have allergies or some other digestive issue that might mean you should CHECK before you give a BABY food. Just saying.) We're not saying she has to clear every little detail, which, of course, is what she'll do. If she even acquiesces. She indicated in her letter that this could "mean goodbye" to all three of us. SERIOUSLY? Whatever.

The other letter is from a sibling. This sibling is dating a person who abused and killed one of her cats. BRUTALLY. She continues to date this man. We have thus far made it clear in no uncertain terms we will not allow this man in our son's presence. I've had some people say, oh, as long as lots of people are around, what's he going to do? Well...considering he was abusing the cats in the sibling's presence and she didn't notice...he could do a lot. Not to mention, generally in large family gatherings a lot is going on and there are lots of opportunities for such subtle abuse to occur. We aren't comfortable risking it. Sorry. This person has demonstrated brutal violence against smaller defensive less creatures that "annoyed" him. Not. Going. To. Risk. It.

So the letter was actually from this man, and forwarded by the sibling and we're encouraged to re-evaluate our stance. After all, he went to 4 weeks of counseling. And he attached a "scholarly" article that suggests maybe violence to animals doesn't transfer to humans after all. I can't wait until I have the time to rip the article apart properly (it merely cites correlations, and has weak statistics for it at that) and perhaps find a few other articles that support our beliefs (that it may, in fact, not be safe to have him around a baby).

The bottom line is, WE'RE the parents! These are the kinds of things WE decide. Not them.

So furious.

Feeling Petty

and I don't like it.

I am 27 years old.  I've been married for nearly 5 years.  I bought a house.  I lost that house - primarily due to my husband (the bread-winner as it were) losing his job.  I just had my first baby, and we all three live in an apartment, that is pretty nice, but no house.  And is half the size our house was, so we gave away a lot of things and are pretty cramped here with the rest.  Most of the time, I still feel very lucky and happy with our situation.  We can still have some nice things, buy healthy food in enough quantity that we're never hungry, and we've been able to take some pretty great vacations.

But every now and then...I feel envious of others my age.  Especially those that waited until after the housing bubble burst and are just now purchasing their first homes.  For a LOT less than we bought our house for.  And with a much greater income.  They're just in such a better situation financially.  And it feels like a little stab to the heart.  I want to be happy for them, but there's always a little bitterness too.  

And then...there's my cousin.  She's 21.  She's married, for just over 1 year.  She has no college education, neither does her husband.  They're expecting their first baby.  And they're, apparently, attempting to buy their first house.  This particular situation strikes my heart a bit stronger than the others.  For several reasons.  For one thing, they're so much younger.  For another, they are not as well educated as my husband or I, and consequently work very entry-level jobs.  My cousin works at a fast food restaurant and the husband works at a big box store as a sales guy.  And, apparently, she's still on her parent's medical insurance.

So, my first thought is How?!  How on EARTH can they afford a house?  My next thought is that they're getting help from their parents.  And this frustrates the hell out of me.  And then that frustrates me because I feel like I ought to just be happy for them.  But I mean, come on!  Mr. Random and I have been on our own financially since we got married.  Before we got married even.  When we were about their age.  Since then we moved 1000 miles from home, we rented apartments, bought our cars, bought our house, lost our house, and are now taking a boatload of student loans to live off of.  All on our own.  We pay our own medical insurance, car insurance, life insurance, renter's insurance.  All our own bills.  And...honestly, that's as it should be!  I feel that if you're mature enough to marry, you should be mature enough to provide for yourselves financially.  I realize these are hard economic times (I DO, first hand, believe me!) but that doesn't change the fact that you should be buying your own insurance and paying your own bills.  And especially if you're having a baby, you should be financially independent first!  

I guess it doesn't always work that way, and if you're parents can help you out...well, why not, right?  I guess I just feel frustrated that we tried so hard to do it all on our own - and had it blow up in our faces due to circumstance beyond our control (some of it was within our control, but ultimately a lot of it wasn't) and it feels like other people, like my cousin, aren't even trying to do it on their own.  And they're better off for it!  It just seems like it shouldn't work that way.  

The Judgement

I was reading another blog recently talking about the judgement of new mothers.  And I will readily admit that I was guilty of being a little too judge-y myself, and probably still am to an extent.  I've definitely found that the roughly 3 months of motherhood I've already experienced have quickly changed my judge-y-ness though.  I am a lot slower to judge than I was before, and for that, I am glad.

But our society is just rife with it.  If you ever wonder why a pregnant woman or a new-mom seems a little on edge, perhaps a little overly defensive, it's because she is dealing with constant judgement.  From everyone, most likely including herself.

I have experienced The Judgement as both a pregnant woman and a new mom far more times than I'd care to recall, but one particular instance really rankled and has stuck with me for about 2 months now.  I was having lunch with a friend, who I am sure really means well.  But it still rankled.

We met for lunch, and I brought Wiggles along.  He was about 2 months old at the time.  This friend does not yet have children, but is starting to think about it and consequently has often asked me questions about pregnancy and parenting.  I am more than happy to share my experiences with her, and so we often discuss those two topics.  At this particular lunch, she asked if I'd had my follow up 6-week appointment with my doctor yet - because she knew I had some questions for the doctor about Wiggles' birth.  I told her I had and what I'd found out (not much! lame...) and then,

The Judgement.

She then asked me if the doctor had told me what I did or could do differently in pregnancy so that my next baby doesn't have reflux.

This is exactly  what I'm talking about.  A well-meaning friend still assumes that something wrong, something shy of perfect, some slight issue with a baby, must be the result of something that baby's mother did.  And it still kind of stings.  I mean...what if it was something I did?  Did I DO this to poor little Wiggles?  I mean...I know I didn't, and I told her as much and that if anything, it was likely genetic and not something preventable or a response to something specifically I did...but...gosh.

And I'm sure it's just the beginning.  This won't be the last time I'm accused for something I have no control over.  The joys of Motherhood, huh? :)