Baby Craze.
My sister had her bundle of joy. And he is wonderful and adorable and sleeps and eats like a champ. His momma affectionately refers to herself as his personal cow.
My parents have been nagging me to have children for ages. The first reference that sticks out in my mind was when I was in eighth grade talking about my "boyfriend" (I use that term loosely as we hugged maybe twice and mostly passed each other notes with cartoon pictures via our lockers). My mom commented what our children would look like. I immediately dumped him, via a note, ending my month long courtship. Add that to my closeted boyfriend who now does drag in my Sophomore year of high school and you have my full dating history up to the age of 18. In my defense I knew he was gay long before he came out but he was a great gossip and was very impressive at Dance Dance Revolution.
Since then the pressure to have children mounted in my 20's. As I hopped over the hump of 25 the expectations were very clearly laid out. They wanted to be grandparents and every man I dated was assessed for a fatherly potential (I participated). At one single point I remember I told my mom I was off to the gym and my mom called back "ok meet a man and make babies." I didn't. Even when dating my mom would suggest suitable bachelors in case my current beau didn't work out.
So when I received a text message from my sister on the family group chat a bit after midnight that said " I have been admitted into the hospital in labor" I immediately called my parents who I rightly assumed were already in bed. I woke up the next day with no updates on the baby situation and went for my run. By the end of my run my brother in law had texted that the baby boy was born! I swung by my parents house ready to pet sit the dog after assuming they'd be packing the car and on their way to the hospital. The fact that my mom wasn't already table side ready to catch the hike in the hospital was already shocking. She had mentioned she wanted to be in the room when it happened (and that desire applied to me whenever I had kids). When I got into their house though they sat about their day after all their hopes and dreams weren't being pushed (and vomited) from my sister at that very moment. "We are trying to respect her privacy" they said, my dad chimed in when they had my oldest sister he didn't want anyone around to hold her and possible spread germs. This coming from a man who has various food options stuck in his facial hair at any given time and keeps his car as clean and organized as a hobo's shopping cart. At this point we knew the baby was born and healthy but we didn't have any sort of update. I stared at my parents dumbfounded at this stoic duo who calmly browsed the news. Who were these people and why were they still here?
Privacy has never been a word to describe my parents (mostly my mom). On the drive home for the summer from my Freshman year of college I made the mistake of sharing that my girlfriends and I wrote each other car ride letters home to commemorate our first year together. Within minutes of settling in back home and returning to my bed room I had an angry note from my mom on my letters remarking her disappointment in my letters. She had read through all of them. My private letters from my friends describing favorite shared memories from what was a very fun Freshman year for me with the typical slew of parties and flirtations. I retaliated by taking the same piece of paper and wrote a note reminding her about the previous spring break where I solo traveled to Florida with my parents for beach camping and I found KY in the sunscreen bag. It was a traumatizing time for me and I recall standing in the shower with the water running for voice dissipation shouting to my sister "what the hell do they have that here for? We are sharing fucking tent." The point is my mom is not a super sleuth, she's just a straight up snoop and privacy has never been part of my families foundation. So for my parents to all of a sudden change their stance and act like those waspy TV families who wear white cable knit sweaters to the dinner table and casually speak to their family members like this is the first time they've met was a real mind fuck.
I called my oldest sister. She too thought they were being weird af. With some prying my mom snorted out "well I don't know why your sister texted you and not me that she was in labor." "Oh my gosh" I shouted. "This is what that's about? Mom you don't understand texting. She texted you too, you just don't know how to scroll up on your text messages." "That's not true" my mom retorted "I did not get the text message, my phone doesn't work." I admit sometimes technology doesn't work but the vast majority of the time it is user error. "Let me prove it to you" I told my mom. She refused several times before easing and handing me her phone. I clicked on the family group chat and scrolled up past my recent messages of "YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY" and celebratory Kermit the Frog gifs and there marked with a midnight time stamp was my sisters group text to the family that she was in labor. My mother eased, her pride subsided. "Well your dad needs to hurry up in the shower then we will go" she snapped.
I left their house dogless because they were still being semi-bizarre and convincing themselves they would just take the dog on the roadtrip. I rolled my eyes and carried onward. By the time I got to my house a picture of the baby was sent. He was a skinny wrinkled little thing and my sisters text described him perfectly as a "small fry." Fifteen minutes later I got a call from my mom "your dad and I can't stop sobbing and hugging, can we drop the dog off on our way?"
Of course I said yes. The weirdos gathered themselves through the sobs and eventually dropped the dog off and went to visit my sister in the hospital. I received a full photoshoot the remainder of the day with my mom smiling about as big as her face would allow.
And now a month on the baby is where I thought he would be, in the center of my parents universe. But I will remember this as a lesson learned. Be yourself. If you are a snooping opinion giving person who has dreamed of being a grandparent don't be a little queer ball about it. Embrace it so your other kids aren't confused as fuck when you pretend to be non-nonchalant.
My parents have been nagging me to have children for ages. The first reference that sticks out in my mind was when I was in eighth grade talking about my "boyfriend" (I use that term loosely as we hugged maybe twice and mostly passed each other notes with cartoon pictures via our lockers). My mom commented what our children would look like. I immediately dumped him, via a note, ending my month long courtship. Add that to my closeted boyfriend who now does drag in my Sophomore year of high school and you have my full dating history up to the age of 18. In my defense I knew he was gay long before he came out but he was a great gossip and was very impressive at Dance Dance Revolution.
Since then the pressure to have children mounted in my 20's. As I hopped over the hump of 25 the expectations were very clearly laid out. They wanted to be grandparents and every man I dated was assessed for a fatherly potential (I participated). At one single point I remember I told my mom I was off to the gym and my mom called back "ok meet a man and make babies." I didn't. Even when dating my mom would suggest suitable bachelors in case my current beau didn't work out.
So when I received a text message from my sister on the family group chat a bit after midnight that said " I have been admitted into the hospital in labor" I immediately called my parents who I rightly assumed were already in bed. I woke up the next day with no updates on the baby situation and went for my run. By the end of my run my brother in law had texted that the baby boy was born! I swung by my parents house ready to pet sit the dog after assuming they'd be packing the car and on their way to the hospital. The fact that my mom wasn't already table side ready to catch the hike in the hospital was already shocking. She had mentioned she wanted to be in the room when it happened (and that desire applied to me whenever I had kids). When I got into their house though they sat about their day after all their hopes and dreams weren't being pushed (and vomited) from my sister at that very moment. "We are trying to respect her privacy" they said, my dad chimed in when they had my oldest sister he didn't want anyone around to hold her and possible spread germs. This coming from a man who has various food options stuck in his facial hair at any given time and keeps his car as clean and organized as a hobo's shopping cart. At this point we knew the baby was born and healthy but we didn't have any sort of update. I stared at my parents dumbfounded at this stoic duo who calmly browsed the news. Who were these people and why were they still here?
Privacy has never been a word to describe my parents (mostly my mom). On the drive home for the summer from my Freshman year of college I made the mistake of sharing that my girlfriends and I wrote each other car ride letters home to commemorate our first year together. Within minutes of settling in back home and returning to my bed room I had an angry note from my mom on my letters remarking her disappointment in my letters. She had read through all of them. My private letters from my friends describing favorite shared memories from what was a very fun Freshman year for me with the typical slew of parties and flirtations. I retaliated by taking the same piece of paper and wrote a note reminding her about the previous spring break where I solo traveled to Florida with my parents for beach camping and I found KY in the sunscreen bag. It was a traumatizing time for me and I recall standing in the shower with the water running for voice dissipation shouting to my sister "what the hell do they have that here for? We are sharing fucking tent." The point is my mom is not a super sleuth, she's just a straight up snoop and privacy has never been part of my families foundation. So for my parents to all of a sudden change their stance and act like those waspy TV families who wear white cable knit sweaters to the dinner table and casually speak to their family members like this is the first time they've met was a real mind fuck.
I called my oldest sister. She too thought they were being weird af. With some prying my mom snorted out "well I don't know why your sister texted you and not me that she was in labor." "Oh my gosh" I shouted. "This is what that's about? Mom you don't understand texting. She texted you too, you just don't know how to scroll up on your text messages." "That's not true" my mom retorted "I did not get the text message, my phone doesn't work." I admit sometimes technology doesn't work but the vast majority of the time it is user error. "Let me prove it to you" I told my mom. She refused several times before easing and handing me her phone. I clicked on the family group chat and scrolled up past my recent messages of "YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY" and celebratory Kermit the Frog gifs and there marked with a midnight time stamp was my sisters group text to the family that she was in labor. My mother eased, her pride subsided. "Well your dad needs to hurry up in the shower then we will go" she snapped.
I left their house dogless because they were still being semi-bizarre and convincing themselves they would just take the dog on the roadtrip. I rolled my eyes and carried onward. By the time I got to my house a picture of the baby was sent. He was a skinny wrinkled little thing and my sisters text described him perfectly as a "small fry." Fifteen minutes later I got a call from my mom "your dad and I can't stop sobbing and hugging, can we drop the dog off on our way?"
Of course I said yes. The weirdos gathered themselves through the sobs and eventually dropped the dog off and went to visit my sister in the hospital. I received a full photoshoot the remainder of the day with my mom smiling about as big as her face would allow.
And now a month on the baby is where I thought he would be, in the center of my parents universe. But I will remember this as a lesson learned. Be yourself. If you are a snooping opinion giving person who has dreamed of being a grandparent don't be a little queer ball about it. Embrace it so your other kids aren't confused as fuck when you pretend to be non-nonchalant.
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