caerula's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- silly songs Never found time to write yesterday. I can't believe how addicted I've become to this; never before have I written this often in a journal or kept it up this consistently. Now I find myself thinking about how I'm going to write about something in the middle of it actually happening. I think that's good; it allows me to take a step back and think before I react to something. And if I ever get around to doing any creative writing again it should help quite a bit. So yesterday we packed, and packed some more, and I spouted off about MIL to N on the phone, and in-laws picked up YB, and I picked him up from in-laws and we went to Big Boy's for dinner. Not terribly eventful, but it was a long and tiring day. I feel vaguely guilty for not going with IL's to pick up YB. But I truly detest going up there, and I honestly don't trust Dementor #1 around me. He's behaved in a threatening manner too many times to me. If I went, I wouldn't get out of the car, and that just gives them something else to whine at BB about. (I haven't set foot on their property since D#1 told me to shut up , and that he can do whatever he likes on his property. Since then I wait in the car.) I'm a big girl and I ought to be able to deal with it -- I don't think he has the guts to ever actually do anything to physically hurt me, and if he did I'd have the cops on him faster than he can blink; but I just am not comfortable putting myseld in that situation. And the Dementors are generally pleasant to IL's, since I've became the focal point for their anger and blame. Yesterday, however, it didn't go well -- the Dementors weren't home when IL's arrived and didn't get home until half an hour after what was supposed to be pick-up time. They had been at some picnic thing, and were accompanied by YB's godfather, who hung around outside while YB went in with the Dementors to get his stuff together. Apparently he made some comment to FIL about getting old, and FIL made a comment (which he probably should have restrained himself from, but I thought it was pretty funny) that the first thing to go is the ability to tell time. Godfather told FIL he was being an asshole, and then made a comment about why was it always them that picked YB up. "Why don't you send your son or his wife -- or can't they think for themselves?" Ridiculous, of course, and I know it, and so do they. They know BB's work schedule very well, and they are also well aware that I will have nothing to do with them unless it's absolutely necessary. And I know that's the game that's going to be played for now -- trying to antagonize us as much as possible, because they are angry and bitter. But it pisses me off that they can't even do it themselves, they have to recruit someone else to get snippy for them. It's all passive-aggressive crap, like the email thing -- BB specifically told them we would email YB while he was gone, and when we tried to the messages bounced back -- and when BB asked about it, they claimed to have no idea what was wrong. But, oh, if YB goes two days without emailing them they send nasty notes asking if we "let" YB read his email. He's home for two weeks, now, before he goes back to them for a week, and unless he brings it up I'm not checking his email at all. YB wasn't as bad as I expected last night. He did go on for half an hour about how much better his bike at Nana's and Papa's is than the bike he has here, which I just listened to and didn't really respond. What can I say, that they bought him a cool bike to make us feel bad? It's not going to work, and I'm not going to play those games with an eight-year-old. He was really well-behaved at dinner, drew a picture for me on the back of his placemat and came around to sit next to me when he was done eating. He told me a little bit about stuff he did while he was there -- went to a Tigers game, and a fair, and went to his friend's house, etc. Nothing specific, and I didn't expect specifics anyway -- or want them, really. They sent yet another stuffed animal home with him, which he was going on and on about last night but will forget about within the week. And in the car on the way home we sang -- the soldier song, and the bear song, and "Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" and "Lullaby of Broadway." All the songs that Auntie sang to me when I was little and have stuck in my consciousness. I've been singing them to YB since he was three, and he still loves them. It cracks me up to hear him singing along to the bikini song, and "Oklahoma," and "Soldier soldier won't you marry me?" And it makes me feel good, because it's something I've given him from my childhood that no one else could have given him in quite the same way. And he, for one, doesn't say mean things about my lack of singing ability. Not that anyone else does, either, but then I really don't sing around anyone else due to said lack of singing ability. Besides, who else would let me sing "Oklahoma" at the top of my voice?
8:01 a.m. - 2001-08-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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