Twinkle: Just Venting About You-Know-Who

Fun Sink seems to take great joy in making feel bad about myself and my parenting, and I guess it's sort of my fault for letting her make me feel that way. Meanwhile, Twinklette loves throwing me under the bus every time we try to have a meal over there. It's the perfect storm for a headache when I leave.

1). Twinklette won't ever stay in her seat or eat her food, and Fun Sink takes it upon herself to pull Twinklette aside and lecture her, and give her the evil eye when Twinklette doesn't focus on her plate. It's the same every damn week. I am sick of it. I don't give her a lecture because I don't want to make a scene at the dinner table, not because I don't ever discipline my child. I wish Fun Sink would just step back and let me be a parent--most of the time she steps in before I even have a chance. Maybe it's my fault for letting her do that. Maybe my approach is nicer ("Twinklette--can you please put your bottom in the seat, put some food on your fork, put your fork in your mouth, and then repeat?"). It's clearly not working, but at the end of the day I would rather take her out of the room to lecture her, as I have done before, many times, than to do it right there in the dining room. I don't think it's Fun Sink's place to do it either way, as long as I'm there. And I think all the lecturing about food makes Twinklette behave worse than she would if everyone would just leave her alone.

2). Fun Sink served some purple cauliflower for dinner, which caused a lot of conversation (it actually is a naturally-occurring thing, according to Google), but it's also a genetically-modified thing, and who knows which version Fun Sink served? Best to pick around at it, in my opinion. Of course Twinklette had to ask what color cauliflower is usually, which I'm sure caused Fun Sink to think of her other granddaughter, Sophie, who probably would rather eat cauliflower than birthday cake and definitely knows its natural color. I know it was a valid question on Twinklette's part, but ugh. I do serve healthy food at home. But I don't love cauliflower, so it's not in the rotation. And even if it were, Twinklette wouldn't touch it. (She may not know that cauliflower is white, but at least Twinklette can identify toile, something Fun Sink probably can't do herself. Just sayin').

3). Fun Sink had to tell the tale of snacktime at the pool, when Bella refused a popsicle because she "has to eat something healthy before she eats something sweet." Good for Bella. Good for Bella's mom. Everyone in the world is clearly a better mother than I am. I'm sure Bella knows what color cauliflower is, too.

4). Fun Sink disapproves of Bar Mitzvah themes. She thinks the theme should be that it's a bar mitzvah. I don't love the bar mitzvah themes just because I think they're kind of stupid, but I don't get all judgy about it if someone wants to have a theme. So anyway, now I have to think of three really awesome bat mitzvah themes. I'm leaning toward thoroughbred racing, Gone With the Wind, and Tiffany's.

5). Tiny T fell in love with this pink and purple stuffed dog at Target today, so of course we got it (hey--sometimes you fall in love with something and it must be yours. I'm inclined to indulge that sort of thing, not deny it). And, so help me, I knew I should have prepped her for this evening's inevitable line of questioning. Sure enough, Tiny T made the mistake of hugging her dog at the dinner table, and Fun Sink was all "What does the dog say? What does the dog say???????" Because a sixteen-month-old can't just enjoy her new toy without learning something about what the dog says. She has plenty of time, of course--Twinklette, at four, knows all her animal sounds (obviously) and much more. But poor Tiny. I knew I should have prepared her for "what does the dog say?" before putting her in that situation.

6). Tiny T was giving kisses at the end of dinner. Fun Sink was holding her and going down the line. "Give Aunt Amanda a kiss." "Give GiGi a kiss." I was next to GiGi. Fun Sink stopped there and didn't encourage Tiny T to kiss me. No big surprise, but Tiny T takes after her big sister in that she likes her mom (shocking, I know), so she started yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" until Fun Sink let her give me a kiss. In your face, Fun Sink! (God love ya, Tiny T).

So anyway, out here in mom world I feel like I am doing my best and that my best is ok. I feel like all the moms I know are doing their best. When I'm around Fun Sink, I feel totally unfit and inadequate compared to my sister-in-law or compared to Bella's mom or compared to herself (in her mind). I'm tired of feeling that way. I feel like she judges all moms (except SIL), so I guess I shouldn't feel bad about it, but it seems like she knows me and she should know I'm doing my best. Mary Lou said she knows deep down that I'm doing a good job but will never admit it, and I know she won't. It's just hurtful, though. How many moms say their kids eat chicken nuggets and mac and cheese for every meal? A lot. My kids don't do that, but because Twinklette doesn't know the color of cauliflower, Fun Sink can justify it in her mind that I am a pathetic excuse for a mother.