I feel like every time I write, I open with, "wow, it's been a long time since I last wrote." This time is different, in that I'm starting with "I feel like every time I write..." Ha ha.
So it's the end of November. We're two weeks away from Michaela being a year old. She went from a little poppy seed to a big, vibrant, happy girl. It's incredible how quickly the year has gone. Someone said to me, about being a mom, "the days are slow, but the years are fast." I totally get that. Some days, I am counting down to 7 p.m., when she usually goes to bed. Then I think about how old Michaela is and my mind is blown all over again.
So, since October, a lot has happened. We went on our cruise, which was very nice. Mike, Michaela and I cruised to Mexico with Mike's mom and stepdad. The trip was a success. I got time to relax (went to the spa, got a massage and a facial) and had a break from the day-to-day, and we all had fun. The grandparents loved spending time with Michaela. Mike and his stepdad took a ton of pictures, which they both enjoy. While on the trip, Michaela started saying "mama," "dada," and "nana."
Our cruise was over Halloween, so Michaela spent her first Halloween dressed adorably as a monkey while heading to paradise. It was very, very warm, so she only wore the costume for about 10 minutes. Nonetheless, we captured the moment with pictures, which was all I wanted.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Michaela had a blast. A total blast. Mike make turkey and all the fixings and I made Michaela a plate of them, which she got to feed herself. She crammed fistfuls of cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, turkey and a roll in her face while Mike and I took pictures. She loved the food and had a lot of fun.
I was less than excited about the way Thanksgiving went down from a family standpoint. We were supposed to go to the Bay Area to spend some time with Mike's grandma. Mike ended up having to work Friday night, so we couldn't drive all the way up to Nor. Cal. and then back in time for him to work. Mike dilly-dallied in letting his grandma know, which I thought was really disrespectful. I was really looking forward to spending time with her, and for her to get to see Michaela (who she hasn't seen since the baby was a month old). So that was a bummer. When we ended up having to stay home, I invited my parents over. They declined. Yup, declined. Just like last year, when I had to call and beg them to come (which they did). So lame. And hurtful.
This year's excuse was that my dad needed to wrap up his moving. Yup, he's moving into my mom's house. Finally. After six years of their living apart.
So back in October, my dad got a call from the woman who owns the house my family has rented for the last 24 years. The house I grew up in. The woman said she was having an inspector come by because she was having the house refinanced. It sounded totally sketchy, because why would you randomly have an inspector come when you haven't been to the house for 20 years? The owner literally never went there, never looked at the state of the property, never put any money into fixing anything up, never... anything. So the whole thing was very fishy. Mike and I seized the opportunity. Mike called the owner and asked her if she was thinking about selling. She stuck to the refi story. Fine. He told her if they needed money, if they were thinking about refinancing, that we (Mike and I) would be interested in buying the place. They talked for quite some time and ended the conversation with her saying we should talk again in the middle of November. We went off on our cruise and when our ship pulled back into San Diego, I called my mom, whol told me that my dad had gotten a registered letter from the owner saying she was selling the house and he had to be out in a month. WHAT?
My parents (Well, now my dad) rent(s) the house, they don't own it. It was the right of the owners to sell their house. I don't blame the owners for selling it. I blame them for the way it went down. Why did the owner lie to my dad? Why did she lie to Mike? Why not call my dad and tel him what the deal was and then follow up with a letter? Really, after renting for 24 years, the way he found out was by a certified letter? The whole thing was totally fucked up.
So my dad, who doesn't deal well with change, was pretty shell shocked. He had to work on clearing out all of his possessions-- mainly cars and car parts, which is the reason he was still living there and not at my mom's house-- and work full time and everything else. Oy. He has been making good progress, and he got a lot of his stuff moved to a storage unit. His non-car personal belongings went to my mom's house. Or should I say, to *their* house.
Now my mom is all freaked out about them moving back in together. For the last six years, all she has been talking about is wanting my dad to move in with her. I'm not sure why, since they hated living together. But now she has her wish. Now don't get me wrong. I don't blame her for being nervous, but I wish for a second, she would at least acknowledge that she's finally getting what she wants. Even though it's a case of "be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it."
At any rate. My dad gave the excuse that he couldn't come to dinner at our house because he was emptying out his house in preparation for the move. So he didn't come. I talked to my brother, who has a way of offering perspective on family-related situations (that's why I'd like to give Michaela a sibling-- so Michaela has the option of talking to someone else about how crazy Mike and I are). He basically told me I need to give up on inviting them to family stuff. That all of them-- my mom and dad and bro-- love me but show it in a different way and that I need to just meet them where they are and not expect them to meet me where I am. It's good advice. It's also easier said than done.
I was really angry at my dad. He gets so hurt that Michaela cries whenever she sees him. She does that because she doesn't see him very often. Now, she surely will see him more often once my dad moves in with my mom, but for the meantime... But I invite him over, give him the chance to spend time with Michaela, and he turns it down. And it's not just this one time. This happened last year, pre-Michaela. But it also happens all the time now. I invite both of my parents over and they refuse on a regular basis. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I expect more of them than that. Even at the same time I am happy with how good they are when they're with Michaela, I wish they could just be... normal. There, I said it. Normal. Maybe there's no such thing as normal. Maybe I've watched too many sitcoms in my life. But there it is.
Well, on that note... I'm going to go pump. I've been pumping for the last 11 1/2 months. My time with my Pump in Style is drawing to an end. I'm glad, so I can have my body back, but I'm also really proud that I've managed to do so for so long. Michaela may not have been exclusively breastfed, but she had an awful lot of breast milk!
And she's doing really well. She has 8 teeth and more on the way. She laughs, she waves hi and bye, she can sort of walk behind her walker toy thing. She crawls like a mad woman and does some cruising. She is a hoot. I love her so much.
That's a good place to end. Remind me next time to write about my upcoming promotion, about Mike's work, about the $3k I won(!), and about #2.
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