I actually feel a bit guilty coming straight here to the blogs when I've been so inactive lately, but damn I just need to dump my agro somewhere... In short five minute blocks because the baby is stiring and I know this won't get done all at once.

Aaany way, I have so much to write. I wanted to write about Christmas and camping but I'm too anoyed to focus on that, so this isn't going to be in order. The in laws are here, been here for one day shy of a week. I want to stab myself in the face repeatedly with a pair of salad tongs because the frusteration is reaching boiling point.

The first three days were pretty good, so good in fact that Obi began to think we'd been wrong to insist they stay four nights somewhere else. Thankfully he never voiced this or told them to get a refund, because he's pretty over it now too (Today's his first day back at work, so it's been full-on for him as well).
First there's the crowding and the mess. It's not as bad as it could be - at least they are making an effort to put away their bedding each morning, and mum has been helping with washing clothes and dishes which I appreciate, but there's this constant moving around of stuff. Things that belong in the loungeroom sit infront of the door at night and then get moved back when the bed is packed up. Except I'm up earlier than everyone, so while I'm trying to get in and out of the unit to get things done I'm nearly breaking my neck. And then there's the bathroom. Nevermind that it's filthy and that no matter what I do mum's hair is everywhere like big foot has come in and had a shave; we only have the one ensuite bathroom and she's bloody in there all the freaking time. As Obi said "I never realised their bathroom habits" when we lived with them. And please tell me, who needs to spend an hour putting on their make-up before going bushwalking in the 30 degree heat or caving? Seriously sweat is going to make your face look like a mud puddle in ten minutes anyway. But every morning without fail she's in there leaving a hair tornado, (Hair which she never seems to wash. That dry shampoo hair spray must be really good or this is just really gross) and then at least one (but often more) during the day she's back in there applying creams, lipsticks and other things I don't even understand. And taking forever to do it. I can't stand stuffing around, especially now I've got the owlet. When you have a brat you get a small window in between feeds and nappies in which you can get out of the house or get things done, and when everyone else is ready to go she's always got one last thing to do or grab. Some of this would be much easier to ignore of course if she wasn't in my face all the time (because once you're aggravated everthing someone does becomes an insult or irritation) or if she learnt to damn-well knock! Dad always gives a respectful tap before passing through our room to go to the bathroom, but she never bothers she just barges through no matter what we might be doing, and then has the hide to complain when she sees Obi's bare ass. Uhm, excuse me but this is our sancturary and besides it's fucking hot - and they have the only fan to keep them cool because their need is greater. And while I'm having a rant - Turn off the bloody fan once in a while!! It's not hot constantly, you're freezing my balls off and you're likely costing me a fortune in power. Cut it out!

Ahh, that felt good.

We are also clashing on the parenting front too. A lot. And I've been making a stellar effort not to nitpik every little thing that annoys me but there's two things I'm begining to crack it on. Firstly, overuse of the passifier/dummy (Which mum calls "soo soo" despite my being adamant that there is no baby talk - the one rule I do enforce haha). Every time Isis cries or so much as begins to fuss mum is all "Where's her soother?" "don't you think we should give her the soother?" and "all you want is your soo soo, yes..." while Obi's eye begins to twitch and he repeats his message over again. "We have found that she only cries if there is a problem, never for the sake of crying, so we try to figure out and address the problem before giving a passifier or "crying it out"" (My sister Ang was pushing "crying it out" hard when we visited, a rant about that will come later.) But instead of checking for a soiled nappy, checking for signs of hunger (rooting or poking out the tongue) or trying to burp her she reaches straight for the dummy. Now we do use it occasionally too. Sometimes Isis just wants to suckle for comfort and it's the middle of the night or I'm getting too sore to let her use me so "here's a handy man-made nipple to plug the hole! Yay!" But I am aware that relying on them can interfere with breastfeeding, cause a dependency in the child and have a negative effect on the way their teeth come through so we try to limit it.
Besides that it is honestly physically painful to stand by and watch my baby in needless distress because her message isn't being heard, and though I try not to be rude and ask her grandparents to pass her back hen she cries sometimes I am what the owl needs. Yet sometimes when I ask for her, I'm told no.

Which brings me to the second most irritating thing - possesion of the baby. Now I understand her grandparents want to spend as much quality time with her as possible, so I hand her over as soon as I'm done helping her. I've expressed so they can feed her, taught them how to use the sling, taken countless photos while they are cuddling her for hours at a time. I've taught them how to work the cloth nappies too, but for some reason they never want to help with the messy end of things. Fancy that. Like, I'm not hogging my baby. I understand Long Distance about as well as anyone. But when I or my husband ask for our child you fucking give her back!! (Obi was quite affronted the other night when mum pulled this on him. She simply flat-out refused to let him have his crying daughter and ignored all his suggestions about what the issue is likely to be.)
Meanwhile if the owlet starts squawking she'll come to me and ask to take her or, in one case, actually try and snatch her out of my arms. I was equal parts furious and offended at that. I cuddled my owl close and in my distressed voice told her "No, I want to keep my baby" then I said it again, making sure my husband would notcie and back me up if necessary. (Isis had been giving her best wail for a good 20 minutes at this point and we'd tried just about everything, but within five minutes of this episode I got that burp out of her and had her calmly asleep. Dad was quite impressed with my skills haha). But that's just so offensive, it's like saying "Look I can see you're incompetent, let me do it."

And the thing is, she doesn't cry or fuss much at all. She has herself in a nice routine, I didn't do anything but she's predictable. She's six weeks and sleeps through the night. She travels well in a car for long periods of time. She's never had a crying fit while we're out shopping. She didn't scream down the Jenolan caves (In fact many people actually commented how good she was, and I'm sure some of them never knew she was there at all.) Like, she's just easy! But, I'm hearing a whole lot more crying from her simply because they won't listen to us. And the thing is, I know they must know how to take care of children because they've done it. Maybe they've forgotten or something?

I dunno. I feel bad for bitching because they have actually been pretty decent today, and they are cleaning my house while I sit on my bum or play with my baby and that's nice. But shit I'll be glad to get some space.

Really, it's just the space I'm missing probably. Like, yesterday at the caves I carried Isis through the first cave and by the end of it my shoulder and back were sore, but Obi and Dad are both big photographers, so I didn't feel like their minds would be primarily on the child, and mum's been complaining all week about how she has a bad neck and she's doing all these back exercises because her back hurts (and every time we've gone out she's commented that she's glad she can't wear the sling) so really, that left me to carry the baby. And I didn't mind at all, I felt safer that way and as it turned out Owlet fed in both caves (sling is so great for privacy!) which no one else could have done anyway... But after the first cave mum was insisting she carry Isis through the second (harder) cave. Even if she were physically able to, she's a bit absent minded, so I don't think we'd have gone with that anyway. So Dustin's giving me his "no" face and I'm nodding in agreement with him haha.
So the whole time I'm in this cave she is right up my arse asking if I'm tired, telling me it's her turn, she can do it, is the baby awake yet? etc etc. I spent the tour trying to run away from her! Luckily it was the least impressive cave we have seen so far, so it wasn't a big loss that I didn't get to enjoy it as much.

Besides, Obi and I had so many special moments together it made it all worthwhile. We even danced together while waiting for our group!

God, she wont stop talking at me. Thanks for listening.