Pre-worrying

Two years ago I was sitting in an OB's office listening to him tell me not to 'pre-worry' after I'd asked him a very basic question about who delivers babies for him when he's not on call. A very stupid thing to say to a woman newly pregnant with triplets who was instructed by most people to find this out from their OB before too long. True, I was only a couple of months pregnant and statistically speaking I had a higher chance of losing that pregnancy than most of his other clients but really? That's 'pre-worrying?' Wondering who covers for your OB in the surgical suite when you might have a really high chance of an emergency c-section?

My husband, naturally, seized on this phrase and repeated it to me incessantly until I threatened to cut off his entire nether regions with a dull knife. He knew I had a habit of worrying about things sometimes before it was truly necessary to worry and here was a man who had summed it up into a tidy phrase for him. It didn't occur to him that since I had now labeled the doctor a jackass he was winding up in the same category quite quickly.

So here I sit pre-worrying about the holidays. For the first time ever I have my mom at my house for the holidays. Throughout my childhood this woman made gift receiving unpleasant, thus ruining Christmas for me most years. She never gave a gift without expecting a certain type of reaction from you. She had some sort of pre-written script in her head, and if you didn't follow it to the letter her feelings were hurt. For example, once she gave me some earrings and I thanked her but did not put them in my ears. The next day she comes to me all sad and forlorn and says it really "hurt her feelings" that I didn't put the earrings in.

Really? Thanks isn't enough? Oh, thats right, it's never been.

In addition, the lady never asked what anyone wanted for Christmas, she just bought things all year long and stowed them in her closet, sometimes for more than a year, and then around Christmas she looked through everything she had and picked out some things for you. Naturally, this resulted in a sweatshirt I might have worn as a 13 year old being given to me at the age of 16 and somehow the hearts and kitties didn't quite work at that point. So, as you can imagine, Christmas, and any other gift giving occasion became a series of faking a positive reaction to a gift you didn't want and would never use and watching her reaction to see if you performed according to her expectations and then holding your breath for about 24 hours to see if you heard about her hurt feelings because you failed.

Really fun.

This year, after 3 blissful years with the in-laws, who not only ask what you want, but properly anticipate other things you might enjoy and then don't wear their egos on their sleeves waiting for your reaction to their gifts, I'm back in hell. She will be present for presents, she will be jealous and she will likely notice the disparity between the number of gifts my new family exchanges versus what she gets and gives. She's not even getting anything for the adults despite my hinting to her that she would be receiving from the adults. Truth is, even if she behaves herself, I will be on edge all holiday waiting for the explosion and trying to protect my in-laws from her brand of crazy. My holiday is destined not to be relaxing or as enjoyable as I've gotten used to in the last couple of years.

In addition, I've just found out I will have no nannies from Dec 24 through Jan 3. Thats 10 days people. I'm going to be 7 1/2 months pregnant. I have to go from having regular breaks where I can rest in the morning to having 10 days straight of taking care of triplets with only the 2 hour nap break in the afternoon. I don't know how this happened but I'm freaking out. I already cried about it. I'm already miserable. That's pre-worrying for sure, because why be miserable 2 weeks early? I will suck the marrow out of every second I have to rest over the next week and a half, but I am terrified of this 10 day thing. I feel like I'm going to go into labor or fall down dead or cry daily. I don't know how to not be upset about this.

It honestly feels like these two factors put together basically have destroyed my holiday. Yes, I'll enjoy watching my kids open presents, and watching my husband and in-laws opening theirs, but that's a pretty small window. Otherwise I'll be tired, stressed, and on the alert for my mom taking the crazy road the whole time. Not good people. How do I deal with this?

Compare and contrast, a year has passed

One has to say 'Wow" no? Little 9 month old munchkins, large 22 months old kids. I imagine I look different too. Last year I was exhausted only from lack of sleep although they were finally sleeping through the night by 9 months. I was a heck of a lot skinnier and not pregnant. This year, toting around a 7 month belly and working through the 4th cold in a row of said toddlers as usual I think I might be more tired. Hard to say. I hope I seem happier!

Why do we even bother?

This exhausting exercise known as "getting their picture taken with Santa" is really questionable people. The kids don't enjoy it, certainly not at 22 months. In fact two of three were terrified of Santa. TERRIFIED people. Like he was an axe murderer waving his axe with imminent intentions of whacking them. So poor Santa had to give up his chair and sneak into the side of the frame where they didn't notice him as much as the dude behind the camera squeaking the Santa doll and all three of us caretakers had to get in the picture too. Sigh. Although, in the end we did narrow it down to just me and the kids with the killer in back.

Note the bribery of one santa teddy bear for B and one yellow cat for J from the Christmas shop out front. A was willing to follow the squeaky santa behind the camera though and put aside her holy terror for a minute.

I'm beat. They'd better love Santa next year or I'm over it.

An upbeat Christmas post...

As I am getting into the holiday spirit finally, assisted by the cute children in christmas clothes and the boundless energy of my MIL I will reprint here something I wrote a few years back after spending another Christmas with my in-laws. It's short but to the point. I had found a new place to rest.

Christmas with the 'other' parents:

Yes, I had an incredible Christmas. Who wouldn’t enjoy themselves when they finally meet the kind of parents you want to come home to once a year? True, one can objectively figure out what about these people would have driven me crazy had I been their child, but as an adult, living in their home for 11 days, well it’s usually every woman’s worst nightmare to be stuck in the freaking arctic of Illinois with their boyfriend’s parents. Not just any boyfriend, most likely the man you will be spending the rest of your life with. So these are the people you have to convince they might want you for a daughter in law.

Of course the boyfriend thinks they’re perfectly fine, so what did I have to worry about? According to him they don’t judge anyone, they’re so easy, why am I so anxious? Um, perhaps, dear boyfriend, because once I get there, in the middle of nowhere, where the average temperature hovers at 15 and I have nowhere to go and nothing to do but read and watch TV THERE IS NO ESCAPE even if I hate them? What’s to worry? I could go jump off a building, oh that’s right, they only get 4 stories tall in the prairie, so I’d be more likely to maim myself and end up confined to a bed in their home with only them for company and at the mercy of their whims. That’s if I didn’t get frozen to the sidewalk on contact and have to be scraped off with a snowplow. If at that point, my appendages all remained intact, my jaw would likely be broken and I’d have to be fed pureed foods through a tube. But that’s only in the worst-case scenario.

No, none of my worst fears came true. They were so much better than my parents that I’m never going back home again. I might even forget my parents exist. I suppose I ought to wait until I marry into the family and have a little something to offer, like a grandchild. (Editors note: boy did I come through on that one eh?) One always needs collateral to be accepted into the family completely. The question is how to keep my mom away from said grandchild until it is old enough to not be scarred by her insane need to buy love with stuff and food. We don’t need to perpetuate the cycle of fat and greed one more generation. For god’s sake I’ve been in therapy for years and haven’t stopped equating love with whether the person will buy me a nice dinner and a pretty thing. Yeah, I’m that kind of girl. Shower me with presents? Sure I’ll stick around….

So yeah, Christmas was great, with calm, drama-free people who live to buy each other presents for fun and without strings attached. And 11 days went by just like that.