We have four generations of women in one house right now. My daughter, wife, mother-in-law, and grandmother-in-law. My son and I are seriously outnumbered on the ovary count.
I'm going to quote my mother-in-law from an entirely unrelated conversation today, "Women may have girlfriends but we really hate each other." She then looks over at her daughter (my wife, just in case there was any question about nonexistent sisters) and with a patronizing wave of the hand, says "of course family is different."
I beg to effing differ!
The past week my mother-in-law and her mother have been so gracious and kind enough to watch my daughter after our baby boy was born and my wife recovered in the hospital. They've been around this whole week so I could go back to work while they looked out for my wife.
These two women (wife and her mother) each have
Each day has come with its own battles between these two, all entirely blow out of proportion, but blow ups nonetheless. Tonight was no exception aside from the fact that I ultimately ended up being the one yelling at my wife.
The why is inconsequential, but it stemmed from all of the above. So here I sit at eleven thirty at night writing my blog because I'm too proud to apologize to a woman who has postpartum hormones raging every which direction. Now that I've written these words (and trust me, there has been conversation between us about all of this since it happened) I shall retire and find my groveling knee pads that I thought were put away for at least a couple more months.
Wish me luck!