Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Older niece has separated from her husband. It came as no surprise to Hubby and me. His shitty behavior escalated from bitching about having to babysit* his own kid while his stay-at-home wife spent some time with her mom, and not allowing their toddler to yell in the house or play with toy cars on the table to verbally abusing his wife. I’m glad she had the sense to get herself and their child away from him. As much as I gripe about the nieces, especially the younger one, I feel bad about the situations they’re in. Both are intelligent and had plans to go to college, but older niece decided to get married and got shipped overseas with the asshole husband. Younger niece actually has a year or two of college under her belt, but got pregnant and had a shotgun wedding. Older niece is living at home with her mom, but the rural mountains don’t offer much in the way of jobs other than low-wage ones. I hope she can get good child support and find a way to get herself a decent job and an education.

Taking a tired toddler to the mall during the holiday shopping season is not such a good idea. He got fussy while I was looking for gifts for his daycare teachers, so Hubby decided a stop at the D!sney Store was in order. Holy hell, baaaad idea. Peanut spotted a few cool toys and announced “mine”. Then he discovered a Lightning McQueen (or whatever his name is) bean-baggy thing. “Miiiiiiiiiine. Peanut’s car. Miiiiiine.” As I tore him away, he threw himself onto the floor and initiated a tantrum. Thankfully we were able to distract him with other crap. The grand finale came as we left and he wanted to stay with Mickey and friends at the front window. “Miiiiiiiickeeeeeeey. Biiiiiiiig Doooooog (Pluto). Miiiiiiiickeeeeeeey. Nooooooooo. Maaaaaaaaaalllllllll.”

*I cannot express how much a loathe parents who consider caring for their own children to be “babysitting”. Babysitting is paying the teenager up the street to hang out at your house for a few hours and make sure the kids don’t kill themselves. Taking care of your progeny is called “parenting”.

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