August 17th, 2011

thanks, but no thanks

I can’t think of anyone I know whose parents don’t drive them crazy at least some of the time. When I was younger, I used to think my parents should win an award for being the most irritating parents on the planet.

Once I moved away they became easier to handle. Don’t like what they have to say? Don’t talk to them for a few days. Not interested in their suggestions? Put the phone on mute and have a perfectly pleasant conversation with someone else. Thinking about moving back to their area? Go visit for a week and swiftly change your mind and thank your lucky stars you live 3000 miles away.

Our relationship has evolved over the years, but more so now that I have a child. Or, as my mom puts it, now that I have “provided them with a grandchild.” The Chop and I look forward to them coming to visit and playing, feeding, napping, etc., the Peanut. My mom could spend hours with him on Skype, watching him climb around, jabber and reading books. We’ve become second fiddle to him, which is fine and dandy, because frankly everyone has become second fiddle to him for us as well.

Unfortunately the byproduct of this is the constant mention of us moving back there (not happening in this lifetime). Ah the guilt trips, they’re awesome!