Take, for example this past weekend. Annie had organized a party at Green Victoria to celebrate Kaeden's third birthday, and of course, we had invited Corb's mom. Which meant that, at the height of Superstar madness, we were subjected to a endless stream of questions about what to get him for a birthday present. Calls to Corb. Then text messages to Corb and me (she is afraid to call me directly).
I know, it sounds like a simple request, but since his birthday is so close to Christmas, it's also wrapped up in that holiday, which in my mind consists of:
--Securing lists of presents from the three kids
--Taking that material and then compiling a master list
--Taking then master list and then figuring out what Josie has already gotten, etc.
So, in other words, it's more than just a simple ask, which is why it is hard to do in the midst of Hell Week and why I had to beg her for patience. But I finally did get it to her and she did she seem pleased. "Perfect!" she wrote back. "I can get his gift this afternoon!"
Then the day of the birthday rolls around. And an hour before the actual party, Corb gets a call from his mom. "She says that today is insane and she has a ton of things she has to get done. And she's hoping to be here, but she thinks she is going to be a little late." He paused. "Which is her way of saying she's not coming."
Sure enough, an hour later she texted Corb to say she decided to go out shopping with one of her other son's, Greg.
See what I mean? This is why, while I probably should have set aside some time to get her the list for Kaeden's birthday earlier than I did, in the end, I knew it wouldn't really matter. Which is why I didn't stress to much about it. I got to it when I could.
Or today, for example. Out of the middle, this morning, Corb sends me a text: Apparently mom is having a get together Saturday afternoon that we were invited to, and she swears we were told.
PS: We weren't.
What is it for, I asked? Response: Christmas Yankee swap. My family. It's a Christmas party...with my family. I guess in addition to Christmas dinner.
Right. In addition to Christmas dinner. Meaning that in addition to scrambling to get presents later than I would have liked because of the play, we've now lost another week-end day, because there is no way it's not going to be an all day affair. Oh, and we have to scramble to get some presents for it in advance.
And the reason it's being held? Here's why: Corb's mother wants to make sure that her sister and her right-wing, gun-toting, NRA worshipping crazy family from New Hampshire doesn't feel excluded. Because they certainly wouldn't be caught dead going to Christmas dinner, because that involves going to Corb's OTHER brother's house, and they can't stand his wife.
It's not just that they are right-wing, gun-toting, and NRA worshipping. Honestly. Well, maybe just a little bit. But it's really because they are crazy and exhausting. Auntie Carol sucks all the oxygen out of whatever room she is in. It all becomes about her, her, her. How she feels about things. What she thinks about things. How people have been treating her. How funny it is that she constantly bickers with her husband. And, she does have a son that frankly scares me, because he just lives at their house and does nothing with his life, other than to join gun clubs and exercise his free rights as a citizen to enforce the second amendment. That is SO much fun to talk about all afternoon!
So, I really don't want to go to this gathering.
And I completely know I will be going to this gathering.
Ugh. Can I go back to rehearsing for the play?