I'm absolutely miserable living in my parents house. People would think that it's because I'm a brand new mom and the baby is driving me crazy. But that's not the case. I simply adore my son and nothing he does annoys me in the least bit. Not a smelly diaper. I even surprised myself when i discovered what a high tolerance I have for his baby cries.
My parents are the ones that frustrate me to no end. my father is a hypocritical alcoholic who feels that no matter what he's always right. No one else matters, nothing else matters. Whatever he says goes and everyone else just has to live and deal with it. As for my mother there really isn't much I can say bad about her. I know she always means well but she just can be overbearing at times... or most of the time.... or all of the time. I know she just wants the best for me but I just need her to let me live instead of criticizing and lecturing me on every decision I make.
Usually I manage to somehow coexist when it comes to these two. But when it comes to my son they just overwhelm me. Like during the latest incident. Ethan won't go to sleep. I've just finished feeding him and giving him some gripe water because I know at his stomach tends to bother him at night and it keeps him up. And in order for me to sleep I need him to sleep. But knowing I have those two things already covered and he's still awake and fussing I move on to the next thing and realize he needs his diaper changed. Now Ethan, for some reason, doesn't like when I change his diaper. So as I lay him down to get ready to change him he starts crying because he knows what I'm doing. In comes grandparent #1, my mother decides to stand right behind me as I'm trying to change him and shoot me with questions like "why is he crying?" and "is he hungry?" and "is it his stomach?" and "did you give him gripe water?" and the frustration begins. I answer all the questions while Ethan cries and I try to comfort him so I can quickly change his diaper before grandparent #2 comes in and does the same thing. But my mother seeing that he is still fussing tells me to pick him up because he is still crying. I pick him up and explain to her that I just need to change his diaper. But when I put him back down to do so and begin changing him, while he still cries, she begins pushing past me to try to pick him up. So now I'm struggling to change his poopy diaper while my mother lifts him off the bed. There is no way to neatly change a poopy diaper with the baby in the air so I, now fully frustrated, step back to just let my mother take over because now Ethan is completely uncomfortable and screaming. Grandparent #2 enters questioning what's wrong with the baby. My mother informs him that he just needed his diaper changed. He's unconvinced and insists that something must be wrong with him because he's still crying. My mother hands Ethan back over to me and goes with my father into the kitchen to make Ethan a bottle because there can be no other reason for him crying then me starving him of course. But with them gone I finally can calm Ethan. Of course my father still comes back with a bottle in hand and insists that I feed Ethan because even though he's laying down quietly by himself he must be starving because he's not sleeping. I tell him that Ethan's not hungry because I just fed him but he insists that I try away way. Seeing that my dad won't leave until he sees me try I give Ethan the bottle. After seeing that Ethan is just spitting the milk back out my dad storms out.
I'm just wondering how long I have left before I explode.
And now the song of the day...
Just because I love this song:
Pink - If God is a DJ
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