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WTG DrK!
So, this morning we drove 2.5 hours to see my former MIL. On the drive there, DD cried on and off about how she didn't want to go far from home today. Being the stellar parent that I am, I threatened that I would not allow her to have chocolate milk at the restaurant if she continued to cry. So, she stopped crying about that, but whined the whole way that her back was sweaty. It was 6 degrees out and the sun was shining on her. I had my ski jacket on the whole drive and was cold because I had the heat on low.
We got to the restaurant and she was so busy looking around that all she ingested was 1.75 glasses of chocolate milk and 1/2 of a chicken tender.
We schleped to former MIL's house where I cringe every time I have to go inside because their furniture is revolting. They used to smoke heavily in the house. The furniture is ratty and smells bad and needed to be replaced 15 years ago. Now, I just prefer to stand rather than sit on stuff because it is so dirty. (FMIL is obsessively tidy, but never deep cleans, everything is grody, but put away neatly.)
The kids have a great time and I generally zone out since they have decided to divide and conquer with the kids.
FMIL gets S a unicorn pillow pet that projects stars on the ceiling. C gets a lego set and some other stuff, half of which he was polite about, but is all junk. Whatever, he was polite and did really well when one of his gift was state maps of Illinois and Wisconsin. I was proud of him.
The entire visit, FMILs SO harps on her and is generally condescending. It makes me really uncomfortable.
We finally escape and on the drive home C asks about the stroke he had and I talked to him about it. He burst into tears because he feels weird that he is different. I explain that yes, he has some differences from other people, but so does everyone else. It is his choice to feel badly about it, or celebrate those differences and become the best person he can be.
Once we are finally home, the kids start to get ready for bed. I go into S's room and she says, gesturing at the new pillow pet, "Guess what I am going to name him!" I throw out a few names, Rex, Fred, and the like. She says, "Nooooo!" Like, how could I be so silly.
Then she says, I am going to call him:
(wait for it)
Horny!
And folks, I leave you with that charming thought.
So, this morning we drove 2.5 hours to see my former MIL. On the drive there, DD cried on and off about how she didn't want to go far from home today. Being the stellar parent that I am, I threatened that I would not allow her to have chocolate milk at the restaurant if she continued to cry. So, she stopped crying about that, but whined the whole way that her back was sweaty. It was 6 degrees out and the sun was shining on her. I had my ski jacket on the whole drive and was cold because I had the heat on low.
We got to the restaurant and she was so busy looking around that all she ingested was 1.75 glasses of chocolate milk and 1/2 of a chicken tender.
We schleped to former MIL's house where I cringe every time I have to go inside because their furniture is revolting. They used to smoke heavily in the house. The furniture is ratty and smells bad and needed to be replaced 15 years ago. Now, I just prefer to stand rather than sit on stuff because it is so dirty. (FMIL is obsessively tidy, but never deep cleans, everything is grody, but put away neatly.)
The kids have a great time and I generally zone out since they have decided to divide and conquer with the kids.
FMIL gets S a unicorn pillow pet that projects stars on the ceiling. C gets a lego set and some other stuff, half of which he was polite about, but is all junk. Whatever, he was polite and did really well when one of his gift was state maps of Illinois and Wisconsin. I was proud of him.
The entire visit, FMILs SO harps on her and is generally condescending. It makes me really uncomfortable.
We finally escape and on the drive home C asks about the stroke he had and I talked to him about it. He burst into tears because he feels weird that he is different. I explain that yes, he has some differences from other people, but so does everyone else. It is his choice to feel badly about it, or celebrate those differences and become the best person he can be.
Once we are finally home, the kids start to get ready for bed. I go into S's room and she says, gesturing at the new pillow pet, "Guess what I am going to name him!" I throw out a few names, Rex, Fred, and the like. She says, "Nooooo!" Like, how could I be so silly.
Then she says, I am going to call him:
(wait for it)
Horny!
And folks, I leave you with that charming thought.
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