The long weekend

Well, we're back from a loooooooong weekend in Seattle, which is strange because we were only there for about a day and a half. It sure felt longer. We took the train up Friday morning, arriving in the late afternoon, and trained it back Sunday afternoon. The primary purpose of our visit was to see Tina and Dave's new baby, Finn. We high-tailed it over to the hospital as soon as we arrived. He is of course beautiful, wonderful, and small. Tiny. Not by newborn standards - he weighed in at just under 8 lbs. - but by Linus standards. I find it really hard to believe that less than 2 years ago Linus was about that size. But he was, I have pictures. It seems impossible that the 30 lb. juggernaut careening around the living room was ever that compact and demure.

After breakfast with my father on Saturday morning, we went back to the hospital for another Finn fix. We hung around Tina's room for a bit chatting and passing the baby around, then Orion left with Linus to change him and get him to nap. Then this thing happened that I feel very bad about. Finn started making the "I'm ready to eat" signs, so Tina got ready to try and nurse him. They hadn't had many opportunities to nurse yet, so they were still very new at it. As many of you know, figuring out the nursing thing can be hard at first. Considering that we've survived as a species, you wouldn't think it would be that hard, but it sure as hell can be. Especially given that most of us have never actually seen a woman nurse a baby, other than maybe a passing glance at a receiving-blanket-draped Mystery Activity by some woman trying to be unnoticed in an airport or some place similar. So, Tina and Finn were having a little trouble getting a latch going. I'm still nursing Linus now. I remember the challenges of the new nursing relationship, and I could see about 8 things going on that may have been contributing to the difficulty, but I didn't want Tina to think I was criticizing her, or come across as a know-it-all, so I didn't say anything.

For about one minute.

They continued to have trouble and Finn was starting to get frustrated and cry a little.

Now, in my defense, the sound of a newborn baby crying makes me crazy. Or maybe "crazed" is a better word. Since becoming a mom, I can't sit still in the presence of a crying newborn. I can't. Once, last year, I had to leave the dressing room at a department store because there was a baby in one of the stalls, fussing it up. The mom kept trying on clothes and saying things like, "You're ok. It's ok." while the baby continued to cry. I couldn't take it, I had to leave. I'm not saying that she was a bad mother or anything, or that I was angry and stalked out, I just couldn't stay. And it's not like I'm a "sensitive" person who feels things especially deeply or whatever. It's just - you know how they've done studies of brainwave patterns in different people in response to various stimuli, and new mothers show radical changes in their brainwaves when they hear a baby cry? I've got that, in spades.

So, Finn's starting to cry a little, and really at this point, I had 3 choices. I could have left - it was really time for me to go anyway. I could have just kept my mouth shut and let them struggle through it. Maybe they would've figured it out, or maybe not and would just have to try another time. Or, I could have taken the bull by the horns, so to speak, and gently but decisively told her what I thought the problems were and offer to show her alternatives.

Instead, I approached her bed and in a really half-assed way, kinda, sorta tried to "help". I did this by lamely pointing out a couple of things and maybe, sort of, suggested a few things. I think I was going for "gentle", but it was really just half-assed. Now mind you, Tina never asked for my help. And really, I pretty much just made things worse. Finn got more and more frustrated, and Tina and I got more and more tense in response, and Tina got more and more frustrated, and soon we were on the bad-nursing-experience spiral. I don't know what Dave and his mom were doing behind me - probably developing a deep dislike for me. Finally, Dave called in the hospital lactation consultant, and I skulked out.

So, to recap - things weren't going well, I stepped in and made them worse, then I left.

My only solace is that maybe after I left, they could blame me for the trouble and then settle down and get things working right. Maybe all the half-assed left the room with me. In case Tina reads this post before I have a chance to talk to her:

Lady, I'm sorry!

I left the hospital feeling so bad for Tina, and also so tense from the brainwave alterations. I tried to get Linus to nurse a little once I got back to my in-laws so that I could get a dose of those brainwave restoring nursing hormones, but for the first time in the History of Linus he wasn't interested. Of course.

So, there was that, but that's not why the weekend felt so long. There's just too much family to try to jam into a day and a half anymore. Of course, it's all about the baby and not about us. Now we're obliged to give everyone an adequate viewing of Poopenstein. My mother thinks that the bulk of our time should go to her and Orion's mother thinks the bulk of our time should go to them, and we still have to fit in my father and sister and round and round. We end up driving across town at least 6 times while we're there, and that's a serious deal in the gridlock of Seattle.

AND, to top it all off, I was reminded on more than one occasion that my family is a BUNCH OF CRAZY FUCKERS.

I'm not kidding. Orion's family is a little odd in mostly charming ways, and all families have that nutty uncle or the cousin that no one talks about. But every member of my family is a life-long resident of Crazyfuckerland. My first reminder came on the way to breakfast with my father. I have only one sister, and she is a single mom and has one son. My nephew decided to ride with Orion, Linus and I over to the restaurant, while my father and sister followed on. Once we were all in the car and on the way I said, "So, how's it going?" He says gravely, "You were mean to my mother as a kid and I will NEVER forgive you for it!" My nephew is 6.

It is true that I was mean to my sister when we were kids, and she has never gotten over it, BUT WE WERE KIDS. I was mean to her, she was mean to me, and the circle of sibling life was complete. I'm four years older, so I always had a bit of a height/weight/wits advantage (still do, in fact), but that's one of the perks of being the elder sibling. Yeah, I would push her around and generally act like an asshole, but then, she STABBED ME IN THE KNEE once. That is the nature of contentious sibling relationships. I have apologized many times for any and all things I may or may not have done to her when we were growing up, and I would again if I thought she'd shut up about it, but she won't. By the way, I'm 37 and my sister is 33. We haven't even lived in the same house for almost 20 years.

Honestly, when my nephew said that, I wasn't exactly happy about it, but it didn't really phase me either. It pretty much seemed par for the course, but it really upset Orion. Anyone who knows Orion knows that it's unusual for him to get upset. He's pretty much the poster boy for Mellow, but he kept saying that he just couldn't believe that she was setting my nephew up against me. He fumed about it for the rest of the day. I briefly considered bringing it up to my sister, but you don't need to go looking for drama in my family. Pretty much any conversation with her can end up in... what word am I looking for? Histrionics? Yep, I just looked it up and "deliberate display of emotion for effect" is exactly right.

So, that is one tiny example of crazy fuckerness. Here's another - at lunch with my Mom later that same day, she drops the news that my father had sexually harassed an employee at one of their businesses and they just settled the suit for $75,000, putting their company in danger of failing. Oh, and this all happened 2 years ago. What the fuck!? I'm just finding out about it?! And it's not like it was being kept a big secret or anything - my aunt, uncle, and sister (and probably all my cousins as well, knowing my aunt) knew all about it from the beginning. Also, this is apparently the reason my mother finally decided to divorce my father. Their divorce was final last fall, but I'd just assumed that my mother had finally gotten sick of what a huge asshole my father is. He really is. Big, big asshole. She should've left him 30 years ago, frankly. I've always thought so.

And here's a rich detail - just at breakfast that morning my father asked me if I'd been surprised that he and my mom, "had split the sheets" (wtf?!). I choked on my pancakes and tried not to let coffee come out my nose while I thought about whether I wanted to answer, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" That wasn't the first time he'd asked me that question either, but I'd just chalked it up to his impending Alzheimers. In retrospect, I think he was fishing to see if anyone had told me about the lawsuit. He should've rested easy in the knowledge that of course no one had. My mom probably would've never told me if I hadn't mentioned that my father said he thought it was, "better this way", like it was some kind of mutual decision.

Crazy, crazy fuckers.