I’ll just share some of the amusements from the holidays.

Cousin: Wow, you look much older.
Me: You know, that’s not always a good thing, anymore.
Cousin: No, no, I just mean you look old.
Me: Hm. Thanks.

SIL (normal tone of voice): Well, I’ve just given up that you and J will have children.
(No one responds, everyone continues doing what they were doing)
SIL (louder): I just know I can’t count on you to have children.
(Again, no response)
SIL (nearly yelling): I just know that you and J won’t have children.
(No response)
SIL: (silence, maybe she did give up?)

At an infamous breakfast restaurant that serves pancakes:
One year old is at that stage where he screams at the top of his lungs for communication. It typically works (and is a stage I *do* get) – he gets what he wants so the adults can preserve their hearing. SIL decides that *this moment* she is going to change this behavior. Her tactic: wave the object of his desire around in front of his face to induce screaming. Then wave it some more while saying “shhhh”. Screaming persists. Then give up and give him object of his desire anyway.

At the same restaurant:
Five year old (almost 6 year old) niece has plate of pancakes, sausage, and eggs. She picks up pancake, squashes it between the palms of her hands, pours syrup into her hands, squashes some more, grabs handful of whipped cream from someone else’s plate, mashes half into pancake and licks the rest off of her hand. Rolls up pancake, consumes. Repeat with remaining pancakes. Picks up poached egg. Just picture that disaster. When it is suggested that she is a little messy and that a utensil might be helpful, MIL says, “Leave her alone, she’s only 5.” I eat lunch every week with a 2 year old who uses a fork and doesn’t smear her food on herself or others.

MIL’s sister, on the phone (whom I didn’t know had been informed of my “feminine troubles”(not my phrasing) ): I just know you’ll have two babies in there!

MIL(who does NOT understand the details, thank god): So did you go to all your appointments?
Me: Um, yes (thinking…does she think I skip them?)
MIL: So what do we do now?
Me: Well, I just wait.
MIL: Well, I just know those doctors can work miracles. I just know this will work.
Me: (sheepish shrug) (thinking, at least someone believes…)

Cousin (12 years old): What grade are you in? (this endeared her to me for the rest of the evening)

We brought our dog along for our trip. She stayed with us at the IL’s house. One evening, we were at my grandparents’ house, so she was with the IL’s for a few hours. She was sleeping on their couch, and managed to fall off THREE times. My MIL ended up sitting next to her and holding her onto the couch. J and I would have just made her sleep on the floor.

~ by Larisa on January 3, 2006.

5 Responses to “anecdotes”

  1. Wow Larissa,
    Your SIL is quite a piece of work. I would have been so annoyed at the way that 5 year old was eating.
    Don’t you love the comments you get from relatives:) I swear I get the same from mine. This past summer it was ” so how much weight did you gain?” ugghhhhh. And to my defense, I am in no way overweight, but since I do work in an iron shop my arms are very muscular. Thats what they all were saying, how I put on weight in my arms.


    I hope your hanging in there with the 2ww.


  2. Mrs. Hope-
    I had to laugh at your escapade at the ILs! It sounds pretty much like my inlaws! You have to admit, that when you go back and read it- it’s pretty humorous. Some people lack some social skills (my il’s) and don’t even realize that what they are saying is completely RUDE.
    Here’s to a fast 2 ww!

  3. Sounds like quite an amusing holiday.

    With regards to your cervix issue post, I just wanted to let you know that I also have a wonky cervix. (that’s my polite name for it.) I have all of my embryo transfers done under conscious sedation (the same thing they use for retrievals) and it’s helped. Hopefully this will be your last 2ww, though, and it won’t be an issue.

  4. S I G H… I hate when people tell me I look older. And, like EVERYONE else in this neck of the blogosphere, the When? makes me rabid.

    Thanks so much for your sympathy (and empathy, really). I hope this 2 ww ends not only in a BFP, but doubling and tripling betas for you.

  5. Oh jeez. Hope the dense SIL got the message after four silences.

    Gotta love being asked what grade you’re in. My grandfather asked me that this summer, but then again he has Parkinsons-related dementia, so I guess I can’t take it as a compliment…

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