I will preface this will the following; I get along very well with my MIL and I love her dearly. She does enormous amounts of things for us, much more than what my mum is prepared to do. (another post another day)
When it comes to son, Finn, she is ALL over him ALL of the time. Of course they adore each other. I prefer to not be around as her baby talk drives me mad!
What is more annoying is my pitiful attempts to put my foot down and enforce the ground rules for caring for my son. Lets face it my friends and work colleagues would describe me as a savvy woman who knows what I want and is not backwards in coming forwards. I am no stranger to the comment, ‘Tell us what you really think, Disy?’ (Note to self – learn to be more discreet.)
But around my MIL I just hold my tongue. I dont want to upset things, its not a big deal. Is it? I don’t want to think about what she gives him to eat when I am not around, the nappies indicate enough! Even my SIL was surprised about the chocolate trying at an early age when she dobbed Nana in to me. She had to put a blanket over sleeping bag because he couldn’t possibly be warm enough (hmmm slight SIDS risk.) What do I do? NOTHING. Yes that’s right Disy, the straight shooter, did nothing. WHY?
It just didn’t seem worth it. You see raising babies was Nana’s greatest achievement in her life. She nurtured her own and every other baby in her street. Now she will go and see any newborn she remotely knows, armed with a present so she can have a cuddle and cluck.
What pisses me off the most is the outright lack of respect Nanas’ show to the newer guidelines. I would quietly whisper ‘They like us to do these days’ in a consultative manner. ‘Oh rubbish!’ is often the reply. So when Finn is still having bottles after 12 months I mention how we were advised by the Maternal Health Nurse to focus on getting rid of them. ”Why?’she exclaims. ”It can affect their speech development and be harmful to their teeth,’ I say, quietly trialing off.. “Oh rubbish, ‘ she says, ‘No child ever goes to SCHOOL with a bottle!”
Fucking great I think. You and I both know that is an unintelligible argument, but I go quiet and dig my nails into my thigh. I go along with it. There is no spot for this sort of conflict in my life. As such both the mother-in-law and motherhood have had a great contribution to my increased tolerance levels.
I have eradictated the bottle (Finn is 2 next week) and we need to work on getting rid of the bloody dummy. I wont be engaging my MIL for support on this one.
The moral of the story is Mumma always knows best, except when Nana is around.
Please join in and unleash on your MIL or provide any dummy eradication tips by commenting. xxx