Please forgive the word vomit coming your way in this post. I’ve been drinking wine straight from the bottle tonight. Hopefully word vomit is the only vomit happening tonight…
My sil has recently given birth to her first child. Meaning we have something other than banging brothers in common. Ew.
The night my newest nephew was born we went to visit after being told to stay away. Side eye emoji, but to each their own…
B, D and the brand new Daddy went to get dinner leaving me alone with my sil. Not two minutes after the boys left she launched into a tirade against our in-laws. Granted, I haven’t always had the best relationship my my in-laws ironically this sil was in the middle of that cluster f*ck. Do you sense a pattern?
I hemmed and hawed about actually going to visit thanks to my broken uterus and the two years of ovulation tests and the last six month of fertility meds. To have sil lauch into her whine fest rubbed me the wrong way. Especially since she was leaving her bitching open ended, hoping I would chime in. Been there, done that. Once burned, twice shy. There is a HUGE part of me that wants to report ever thing she said back to our MIL … like she’s done to me. But I need to be the bigger person. I am not willing to get back at my sil at the expense of our MIL, who would be incredibly hurt to know what was said. I don’t want to be that person. Especially since my relationship with her is more important to me than my relationship with my sil.
I really don’t want to be that person, but there is an incredibly petty part of me that wants to stick it to my sil. I understand that her relationship with our in-laws changed when I married in to the family. I understand that, but it isn’t my fault. She doesn’t get to take her sorrow… frustrations… whatever it is out on me. Especially at the expense of people she claims to love and care about.
I know I’m word barfing all over, but I’m feeling a whole range of emotions. I don’t know how to react to things. I don’t know how to be a good aunt to my brand new nephew when I wouldn’t be friends with his mother if she weren’t married to my husband’s brother. It isn’t this baby’s fault his mother is a mean girl a la Regina George from Mean Girls. I’m angry that she gets to be a mom and I’m trying like hell to have another.
It’s definitely time to put the wine down, close the computer and get my ass to bed. Hopefully things will be clearer in the morning.
Love to all!