I hate confrontation. I may talk the badass talk on the blog, but IRL I’m a wuss. My stomach clenches up and I get shaky. I recently felt obligated to speak to another lab’s supervisor about a situation with one of his employees who had brought a child to work and had him in a less-than-safe place. The person who notified me wanted to remain anonymous for fear of retaliation. I really wanted to cover my ears and sing “La-la-la-la” but because of my position and a particular certification I hold, I felt it was my duty to notify the person in charge. I did and the child was taken home. I hope the parent was not punished as that was not my intent.

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On a happy note, it looks like my MIL may come visit. She’s been waffling due to family drama and a bad financial situation (a couple of her appliances broke and had to be replaced and our niece and her kids are still living there and apparently running up bills and not contributing anything financially). Hubby’s good sister called last night to fill us in on the latest drama with the nieces and youngest sister. MIL is getting fed up but just can’t seem to say no to them, so they run all over her. Hubby decided to ask again if she’d like to visit and get away from the craziness and reminded her we’d by happy to pay for gas and whatever other travel costs might come up. The visit is back on for now.

Youngest sister has been running her yap (as usual) and pissing everyone off. She was trying to boss FIL around and he had enough of it.

The niece who’s living with MIL is not working and expects MIL to do the cooking, cleaning, and babysit the kids. I think at one point she gave some money to MIL and her husband got pissed. Hello? Your wife and kids are living for FREE with your semi-retired, limited income grandmother-in-law and you’re pissed that your wife, for once, did the right thing? Whatever. Grow up.

Hubby is still hurt that MIL wasn’t going to visit yet she’ll jump for all the other kids/grandkids/great-grandkids. There have been times when we could have used help (when Bean was born and when he was hospitalized) and we didn’t have family to bail us out. We sucked it up, took time off work, and did our best. I still thank our lucky stars Bean’s labor and delivery all happened during daycare hours so Peanut was looked after. That’s the price we pay for being self-sufficient. Hubby has always been the responsible one, so I guess they all assume we can take care of ourselves. We can, but every now and then it would be nice to get a break.

We’re both jealous of the time MIL spends with Good Sister and her kids. Hubby jokes about it with her, but we are green with envy. She’s so lucky to have that bond with MIL and that she can rely on her to take care of the kids. As for the other two sisters and the nieces, I just want to kick their asses. They’ve come to expect that MIL will be there to watch their kids and clean their houses and it’s just wrong. The niece who’s living with her can’t even be bothered to postpone dinner when MIL has to work late (honestly, I’m surprised she doesn’t wait – I figured she’d expect MIL to cook it, too).

I’m a bit apprehensive about the visit, though. I know MIL needs a break and will want to rest and read her books. I’ll try my hardest not to be resentful when she spends time outside smoking and reading. Peanut was so sad when she did that the last time she was here. It’s hard not to be bitter when she bends over backwards for everyone else and our kids get left out because she’s worn out. Dammit, why can’t she tell them to back off and take care of themselves for once so she has the energy to be engaged with us?

My parents arrive Friday for a weekend visit. Woo Hoo! Peanut is as pumped as I am. Every morning he asks “Is it this day? How many days?” He was so very sad yesterday morning when I told him he had three more days to go. He pouted and hung his head.

In keeping with their usual awesome-ness, they decided to buy a swingset for the kids. Hubby is picking it up today and will attempt to start assembly. I have a feeling he’ll be in for several frustrating days (at least that’s what the reviews say). Dad has offered to help, but Hubby is working all weekend. Maybe they’ll get some time in on one of the evenings.



We spent last weekend at my Aunt’s little place a few hours away. She winters at an RV park and has the cutest little mini mobile home. We spent some glorious time at the swimming pool. Peanut is learning to doggie paddle. He did a great job but isn’t ready to try without someone holding him. Bean just loved the water. I was afraid it would be too cold for him but it wasn’t at all. He splashed and kicked and tolerated a couple of older people fawning over him. After a while I cradled him in my arms and let him float. He just laid there, completely relaxed and happy as a clam. I think he would have fallen asleep had we stayed any longer.

A front came through so we never made it to the beach. Maybe next time. We’re planning to ask Auntie if she’d rent the place to us for a few weekends when she’s up north.

Peanut was a little sad not the be allowed to play in her yard. It was because of her cranky neighbors – a nesting pair of hawks! Their nest is in a palm tree next to her place. They’re gone after the man next door a couple of times and we feared what damage talons or a sharp beak might do.


Bean is doing great. He has learned to hold his bottle. A new baby at daycare uses the same style bottles and the two boys have stare-downs when the other is feeding. The other boy has tried to snatch Bean’s bottle away! I guess they’re territorial over what they think is their food. It’s funny that they recognize the bottles. Bean has never been interested in the other kids’ bottles.

He’s working on tooth #4. I think he’s regained whatever weight he lost, plus some. His little tummy is looking very round. Peanut calls him the snowman baby because he’s round like a snowman.

The two boys will sometimes hold hands in the car. It’s so sweet. It settles Bean down and is just the cutest thing. When he knows Peanut is reaching over, he’ll work at grabbing his hand

Hubby deals with a plethora of characters through his work. Some of the stuff he sees is downright funny. Some of it gets his blood boiling. Some of it is just sad.

He took a couple of DV (domestic violence) calls that were out there. The first involved a pregnant woman who was punched in the stomach by her boyfriend. Hubby arrives and can smell beer on the woman’s breathe. She’s also puffing away on a ciggie.

She was so distraught over the possibility of losing her fetus that she HAD to down a couple* of beers. Hubby took the DV claim seriously but yelled at her for the damage that alcohol and smoke can inflict on an unborn child.

The next call was for a woman whose husband punched her during an argument. Hubby pulls up and sees a woman standing outside, blood dripping from her mouth. As he approaches he realizes the “blood” does not have the consistency or color of real blood. I loved Hubby’s response: “Ma’am, what IS that? I’ve seen more blood than you have in your entire body and that’s not blood.”

She used FOOD COLORING because her husband didn’t leave any marks and she was afraid of not being taken seriously. The only reason she didn’t go immediately to jail was her two distraught small children that were in her care. She’ll have her day before the judge soon enough.


*In cop-land (and in medical-land) “2 beers” can be anywhere from a 3 on up