I had the hugest update ever this morning, that disappeared with one keystroke. I was Not. Happy. It’s taken me the day to come to terms with the situation. GAH.

ANYWAY.

Thanksgiving wasn’t as bad as I feared. The TV never came on, which is one of my big pet peeves of the day, so that was good.  The food was good, the house was steamy from cooking and a lot of people in a small place (and the furnace was off, so the heat was generated by all of us, and it was snowing outside, but we had to open the windows…) and it was not horrifically unenjoyable time with the ILs. 

There were moments, though, that alone aren’t THAT bad, but when you frame them in the context of "oh my god, I’m only four months pregnant, and it’s already starting" are more frustrating.  Apparently, I am an idiot in all things baby, because the two pieces of information I got were — and I’m not making this up — "babies change your life" and "babies like to bang things to make noise."  I amso not kidding. 

Now, granted, I haven’t been all GreatAunt LoveyDove with the grand nephews, as the circumstances of their arrival, and the timing of their arrival with my experience of more than a year of TTC and one miscarriage, has made me a little bitter. I can own that. But, I know some shit about babies. My friends that have them can tell you so.  If anything, I am gooooood with babies, better than you’d expect a 30 year old childless person to be, if I do say so myself. So, yeah. I get it. Babies change your life and bang shit. Check.

My MIL also sorta tried to cop a feel of the belly, which I’m still convinced is just fresh pineapple and *not* fetus, despite the fact that my scale showed a 2lb loss this week, and my doctor SHOWED me where and how big my ute was last week.  Either way, um, ew.  She didn’t touch it for very long, but it was in the process of greeting us upon our arrival, and was accompanied by "Hello, Mum." No one ELSE tried to touch me, but it’s now my big fear. I am NOT a touchy-feely person. I’m not a hugger, not one for neckrubs, and the idea of a massage creeps me out. I have BIG personal space issues. BIG.  The only person that can touch me without asking is Dave, or a little kid. That’s it.  And aint NOBODY allowed to touch my belly except Dave and my medical practitioners. So, now I’m all tweaked about Christmas, because I’ll probably pass the Just Pineapple stage by then, AND it’s The World’s Most Cramped Celebration EVER, so people are going to be bumping into me anyway.  But I do not want to become the honorary buddha of the night. Not at all. I’ve already told Dave that I’m going to be polite, but they’ll still think I’m a bitch, but that’s too bad.  He was weirded out that anyone would want to touch my belly in the first place, so is on board with me.  (And this afternoon, my folks dropped off the crib and both tried to cop a feel, and they both got snapped at.  I can snap at MY parents though, they know how I am and it doesn’t become a national crisis.  The ILs, though, eek.

Also annoying was my nephew — he and his girlfriend broke up a few months ago, so he’s living with his mom, which is where we had dinner.  The ex brought the kids over (which I think is AMAZINGLY generous of her to do, since I dread going to the inlaw events as a happily married woman that doesn’t have to chase kids – yet) and what does nephew do, while his 11 month old son is with him for his first thanksgiving, and for the first time in a while? READS THE FUCKING WALMART FLYER.  Kid headed for the stairs, mom had to fetch him. Kid headed for the glasses, mom was behind him. He held him for a picture, and that was about it. GAG. 

But, once we got home, Dave was all inspired to research baby toys. There were four kids at the dinner, my two grandnephews (18 & 11 months), the ex’s daughter (four? maybe?) and my SILs step-grandson, who is around 4 as well.  Dave spent a lot of time online pointing things to me and saying "How old til it can use this cool arm-powered car?" Hee. (We agree on no PowerWheels, and Dave wants his kid to have cool stuff, but have cheap stuff too so that our kid isn’t only revered for his sweet wheels collection. Or hers. Whatever.)

My parents dropped off the crib, which ALMOST fit through the door of the room, but not quite. Dave ended up having to take off a side, and reassemble it, but it’s all good now. For 135, can’t beat it.  I’m going to clean it up a but (some sticker residue and stuff) but it’s in the room that it will live in for the next few years, anyway. WEIRD.

Other than that, we still have two more days of no-work! This is the first time since this summer that we’ve had so much time together without some obligation, so it’s kind of cool.  Lots of work to do, but we’re able to sleep in, anyway. 🙂