So, today was the birth of Baby B, a healthy and happy and ever-so-tiny baby girl, and I'm not going to mar a joyous occasion by dwelling too much on Fun Sink. But my gosh that woman is dour. I just gave birth to her grandchild, yet she barely said boo to me the whole day. Instead she just tried to boss everyone around, especially big sisters A and E, whom I was missing desperately and with whom I would have liked to have had a meaningful conversation about the new addition and how they were feeling (or in E's case, the 18-month-old equivalent pf a meaningful conversation: a little extra snuggle time).
Fun Sink had to boss them around like a drill sergeant. She thought everyone was taking up too much space in the hallway while B was getting her first bath in the window of the nursery. Everyone in both families was having fun watching her, and all Fun Sink coukd do was tell everyone to spread out and get out of the way. She wanted my hospital bed out of the way, too (I was lucky enough to be wheeled by as the bath was happening), and E wanted to cuddle with her mama, and all Fun Sink could do was yell at everyone about blocking the hallway.
She also happened to come into the room after B and I had been engaging in a little feeding and skin-to-skin...so B was haphazardly wrapped in blankets so that the grandparents could get their first chances to hold her that much sooner. Fun Sink had to be all, "That is NOT a very good swaddle." It wasn't a swaddle at all. It wasn't supposed to be a swaddle--we knew the grandparents were anxious to hold her so I guess Mr. Twinks didn't bother with the swaddle. But she just has to comment negatively on everything.
In other news, I think I might be giving my children candy just to piss off Fun Sink. A asked if she could have a little packet of the new baby's personalized M&Ms, even though it was right before dinner. I said she could because it was a special occasion...but really I just wanted to see what Fun Sink would say. True to dour form, Fun Sink told her she needed to wait until after dinner, and when A started to protest that I said it was ok, I was all, "No, Fun Sink--I told her she could have those because it's a special day." It shut her up, but she hated it.
I'm just over all of it. Maybe it's the hormones or the drugs or the fact that I'm now responsible for three little girls and I'd like rule over them benevolently, but I have just had it with Fun Sink's incessant nagging and negativity, and I cannot stay quiet anymore.
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