~ September 16, 2003 - 1:31 p.m. ~
We are (dysfunctional) Family!
Before I say anything else, go read my fic at scriobhaim. NOW!
It was really great to sleep in my own bed last night after a weekend of travel in Connecticut. Tim and pAndi and I took MetroNorth up to Waterbury on Saturday morning, and their cousin K and his fianc�e M picked us up and took us to his other cousin K2's football game. We were there on the pretense that we just wanted to see the game, but we were really there to surprise Uncle K Sr. for his 50th birthday. OK, so I've just realized I have a problem initializing Tim and pAndi's family, because four out of five of the family with whom we stayed have K names. So the father will be Uncle K, the mother Aunt G, the eldest son K1, the daughter GirlK, and the youngest son K2. Jeeebuz.Anyway, we were pretending we just wanted to see K2 play football, but really, all the other relatives and friends were gathering back at the house to surprise Uncle K. He was very shocked, and although it rained, a good time was had by all. I learned how to play cup-stacking , which was weird and fun, and there was lots of food and general merriment.
The next morning, Tim and pAndi caught the train back to New York, and my Uncle DJ met me at the Waterbury station. It's always a little weird seeing him in CT, as I've grown to associate him as "The Florida Uncle." Anyway, we went to my Uncle Dom's place were Nona was waiting, and later in the day, we go roped into taking dinner over to my Uncle M, his wife Stupid Cow Marcie , my cousin Conor, and their new baby Emma. Unfortunately, we all tend to take out our aggression on SCM by making fun of her kid's names. Not that my family has any problem with the names "Conor" or "Emma" on their own. It's just that she's made such a big stink about how Italian ethnic names are sub-par or something, and how she'll never let anyone name her kids after a member of our family. Almost all of us have traditional Italian names, or anglicized versions of one of our ancestors' names, so naturally we're insulted. Anyway, Uncle DJ slipped and called Emma "Enima" in front of SCM, because the baby was named for her maternal grandmother, and Uncle Dom and had been making fun of the name all week. The shit uber-politely hit the fan, and Emma and I were whisked into the other room for "girl talk." For an hour.
"Girl talk" mostly consisted of SCM's breast-feeding problems. The baby has lost almost a whole pound since she's been home, and weighs only 5 lbs. 10 oz. SCM made this huge stink when Conor was born about how unfair it was that she had to feed him all by herself, and it took up so much of her time, and why should she have to suffer even more when she was the one who had to carry him around for nine months in the first place. She weaned him almost instantly, she hated it so much. Now she's saying that Emma doesn't like nursing, so she supplements with formula instead, and she's just sure the lactation consultant will tell her it's a waste to breast-feed when the baby is losing so much weight, and that she should switch to formula full time.
Nona always said, "SCM is dumb like a fox," and it's really true. They gave her the lactation consultant because she hated nursing so much the last time, and they explained to her about the let-down reflex. That's when you hear the baby cry, recognize that it is hungry, and your glands let the milk down into your breasts. You can't be tense or anxious, or it won't happen. You can also willingly stop the flow of the milk when you really don't want to (or can't at the moment?) nurse. I'm betting this is what they told her, because now she's "under so much stress" that he milk won't come down properly, and that's why the lactation consultant will tell her to quit nursing.
What a selfish bitch! I mean, she is under no pressure or stress at all. My Uncle does all the cleaning and most of the cooking, and relatives and friends are sending food. My Uncle is caring for Conor, getting up in the middle of the night to change the baby, and basically doing everything for both kids but nurse Emma, and that's only because it�s physicalogically impossible. If he could, he would. But she still bitches that there are all those long hours when he's at work (he's still on paternity leave, mind you!) so she is too stressed to nurse.
IMPORTANT DIGRESSION: A few years ago, Carnation went into some impoverished and underprivileged areas of southern Africa, and distributed propaganda in which they informed new mothers that breast milk was not a good for their babies as Carnation formula, which was infused with vitamins and minerals, etc. They gave the women in there areas three months supply of the formula free, and left. The women, most of whom did not even have an elementary level education, switched, weaning their children. However, babies also get immunities and antibodies from mothers' milk, and are at serious health risks if they do not gain these things. Furthermore, the women were mixing the formula with their regular drinking water, which was full of pollutants, waste, and other bacteria. The mothers were immune to the water's ill effects, because they had developed their immunities from their mothers when they were babies. But these babies did not have any protection, and most of them died. Those who did make it to the end of the three-month supply of Carnation faced another problem. The mothers had no money to buy more formula, and even if they did, there was virtually no place to buy it. They could no longer produce milk, and now even more children died. Studies are being done about those to did survive, and the continued health problems they face.
SCM does not come from a third world country. She is a community-college educated woman who comes from a middle-class family from one of the richest countries in the world. And she is still making the same mistake as these completely uneducated African women. Not because she is unaware of the risks, but because she is a lazy cow. Her baby needs her and she just doesn't care.
After that diatribe, it will sound silly, but her bullshit about nursing just primed me to be super-angry when she asked when Tim and I are getting married. I swear to god, if one more person asked me that, I will drop-kick them into next Thursday!! I few of Tim's relatives asked too, but they all tend to marry early in his family. His cousin K1 is a few months younger, and he's getting married soon, so I can forgive their questions, even though it pisses me off all the same. I am only 21. I don't have a job. My parents still pay my bills. Tim is only 22. He doesn't have a full-time job. We are in the same kind of limbo right now, and I for one would like to feel like an adult, you know, pay my own bills, have a job and some security and a plan for the next year to two before I rush off and get married. OK, so we�ve been together for four and a half years (which is why people keep asking). Fine. But may I remind everyone that I was in high school for one of those years, that I was in college for three of them, and that both of us took such heavy courseloads and did so many extra things that the very fact that we still had time to be together is a fucking miracle? We've just finished school. We're still not full-time employed. Let us get our feet back on the ground before you start shoving us at the altar, OK?
Naturally, I can't say this to people because it is rude, and I am not a rude person. But the next person who snatches my left hand and says "I'm just looking for an engagement ring!" is going to get a very huffy answer.
Uncle DJ committed life-long bachelor, commiserates, and says it only gets worse the older you get. Fantastic. He and Nona (who made me promise not to get married until I'm 22 or she disinherits me) took me to the U.S.S. Chowder Pot for lobster bisque as a reward for not snapping SCM's neck. He and I then bid farewell to Nona and Uncle Dom and his family and drove back to New York.
It was great spending time with Uncle DJ. My great-grandmother used to say (imagine this in a thick Italian accent) "DJ, he comes into the room, and there is sunshine!" He's just so funny and sweet and generally great to be with. When I was little, I always used to say, "Uncle DJ, you're my favorite Uncle!"
And he'd say "Well, you're my favorite niece!"
And I'd giggle and say, "But I'm your only niece!"
And he'd say, "You're my favorite anyway." Now he tells me that he can say I'm his favorite niece and mean it!
I stopped saying the "favorite uncle" thing all the time when he and my other two maternal uncles (Dom and M) got drunk at a wedding and sat me up on a barstool in front of them (I'm 8, mind you) and forced me to admit which of them was my favorite. DJ's going "She always says I'm her favorite! Right, sweetie?"
And I'm thinking fast because I can tell they've all had a few (this was not my first Italian wedding) and I don't want them to start fighting, so I say, "Uncle DJ is my favorite Florida Uncle, Uncle Dom is my favorite Hot-Dog Uncle (he owned a stand), and Uncle M is my favorite Uncle who lives with Nona still!" They just stared a me a minute before they started laughing, and I was able to creep away and tattle to Nona that they were all being weird again.
I know everyone says this, but jeez is my family bizarre.
