We ended up going to visit the outlaws for the 4th of July holiday. I know, I cringed inside too. We had plans Saturday and I purposely scheduled a service appointment early on Monday morning so we couldn't stay overnight. Sneaky, huh? The thing that I think bugs me the most about the outlaws is that they can never ever make and stick to plans. When you have 3 kids and are pregnant, you need plans set in stone. I do not fly by the seat of my pants. The mere thought makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb.
We left our house around 11am on Sunday and arrived at the outlaws around 1pm. The first thing my mother out-law said to me? "Wow, you are huge. You should probably be watching your weight gain." Seriously. I've gained 11 pounds, bitch. Step off. Then they spent an hour trying to decide where to go out to lunch. I was starving. The kids were starving. Mother out-law finally decides we should go to Ruby Tuesday's because "they have a nice salad bar" for me. Subtle.
One thing I can say is that mother out-law doesn't just torture me. She's just a rude bitch in general. She didn't like the table that the hostess tried to seat us at, she made them move us twice. Then she didn't like the waiter so she asked for a new one. I was looking for the exit by this point, I like my food without phlegm. She bitched about the food, she bitched about the service. She encouraged my children to eat with no table manners at all. I was mortified. My children normally are very well behaved in restaurants, they've been taught how to act in public. She thought The Toddler would be cute smashing his face in his plate and eating like a pig so she could take a picture of it. That is not cute. She ordered soda for my kids when I went to the restroom. It was just a disaster. Oh, and I did not have a salad either....which I heard about all freakin' day long.
We all took one car- our minivan- so I got stuck sitting in the very back between The Pre-Teen and The Girl in her booster seat. I can't even begin to tell you how comfortable that is when you are 7 months pregnant. Why did we all take one car? Because my father out-law had eye surgery for a partially detached retina on Friday. Surgery that we didn't even know about until we arrived at their house. Mother out-law says the partially detached retina is from old age. I still think she clocked him in the head with something hard.
While we were leaving the restaurant, they decided they wanted to show us the new skateboarding park. Why? I don't know. The Pre-Teen didn't even bring his skateboard and the park is for ages 13 and over. He's 9. Of course, mother out-law insisted that she knew exactly where it was. After driving randomly down streets in the downtown area- read, bad neighborhoods- we concluded that she had no idea where the park was and headed back towards their house. But not before they wanted to stop and show us the park where the live band and fireworks were going to be held later on that night. Why do we need see it at 3pm when it doesn't start until after 5 and we probably wouldn't be staying that long anyway? Whatever. So we drove there and saw the parking and where we would have to walk. I sat in the car with the kids and mother out-law while Big Daddy and his dad went to see what time the live band started. Mother out-law took this opportunity to ask me when we planned to have the children baptised in the Catholic church. I took great pleasure in telling her that I no longer belong to the Catholic church and our children would not be baptised in it. That was fun.
On the way back to their house, she decided that we should stop and pick up some ice cream for the kids at the grocery store. By this time, I was having pretty frequent contractions so I once again stayed in the car while Big Daddy, mother out-law and The Girl went into the store to buy ice cream. 5 minutes, Big Daddy said. 30 minutes later they finally came back out. 30 minutes of The Toddler yelling to get out of his carseat. 30 minutes of being crammed in the back seat of the van. 30 minutes of answering The Pre-Teen's questions about his birth mother. 30 minutes of counting contractions. I was pissed.
We finally made it back to their house where my children consumed more sugar in 30 minutes than they'd consumed in the entire previous month. Mother out-law asked if she could take The Pre-Teen and The Girl down to the dollar store to pick out a little treat. Big Daddy said sure while I was going tinkle. I would have said no. We argued about it when I came out of the restroom to see them driving away. Big Daddy thought it was no big deal. I was right. They came back over an hour later. This is what the Pre-Teen looked like before they went out, note the gorgeous red locks of hair that took him well over a year to grow out that I just spent $30 for him to get an inch trimmed off it less than a week ago:

This is what he looked like when they came back:

Seriously.
I lost my shit. I yelled so loud that the neighbor came over to make sure everything was okay. Father out-law took The Girl and The
Pre-Teen to the neighborhood playground for a little while so they didn't have to testify against me during my murder trial. Smart move. They were gone so long that I started to worry that father out-law had gotten lost with my kids in his own neighborhood.
By the time they got back, it was after 7:30. I was ready to just pack it up and go home. I was over it. Come to find out, mother out-law had promised the kids that we were going to see the live band play. After Big Daddy and I had already told them we probably wouldn't be able to stay that long. We finally folded like a house of cards agreed to go see the live band play but made it clear to the kids that we would have to leave before the fireworks started because we had a 2 hour drive home. Of course, by the time we made it downtown there was no parking. We had to park over a mile away and walk. Just what the doctor ordered for the pregnant lady having preterm contractions, right?
We walk all the way down to the park only to find out that the band was finished for the night and had been for well over 2 hours. Mother out-law laughed like it was hilarious and told the kids that we will just have to stay for the fireworks instead, which of course sent the kids into fits of cheering. Furious does not even begin to describe my feelings. I was so exhausted and stressed and totally ready to just go home. She kept insisting that the fireworks started at 8:30pm right after the baseball game ended. The kids were so excited and I didn't want to listen to them whine all the way home disappoint them so we agreed to stay, thinking that the fireworks would be done by 9ish. We walk across to the baseball stadium only to be told that they were at capacity and nobody else was allowed inside. We had to sit on the ground outside the stadium to see the fireworks. Sigh.
Half an hour passes. Kids are cranky and impatient. Another half an hour passes. And then another. Finally Big Daddy goes to ask the security guard when the fireworks would start. 10:30pm. Ten thirty. 2 hours after we were told they would start by mother out-law. Is anyone surprised? Didn't think so. I was seriously ready to cry. I was in so much pain, contracting regularly and just flat out miserable. Big Daddy was ready to just leave because he could tell that I felt bad but I didn't want the kids to miss out on the only fun thing left since they missed the band. We waited over 2 hours for 10 minutes of fireworks.


Then we had to walk the mile back to the car with mother out-law stopping to talk to all her old cronies every 30 seconds. Come to find out, the only reason she wanted to go to the fireworks is because all her friends were there with their grandkids and heaven forbid my mother out-law be left out of something. She ruined everyone's 4th of July so she could show off for her friends. Insert sarcastic eye roll here. It took over an hour to get out of the parking nightmare with my father out-law giving the worst directions that I've ever heard in my life. Not even kidding. Here is a sample:
Father out-Law(FOL): Turn right here.
Big Daddy(BD): Where, here?
FOL: Yeah, right here.
Big Daddy starts to turn right.
FOL: Stop. Why are you turning right? Go left.
BD: There is no left.
FOL: Not here. At the light. Turn left at the light.
BD: Then why did you say turn right here?
FOL: I didn't.
Yeah. For real. And by that time we had passed the turn and had to turn around. That happened at least 9 times on the drive back to their house. It was after 11pm. I gave some serious consideration to jumping out of the van...while it was moving. The feeling only intensified when Father out-law told Big Daddy to stop by the chinese restaurant so he could get some take out. At 11pm. Knowing we had a 2 hour drive home ahead of us. Luckily the stupid chinese place was closed so I didn't have to kill anyone but it was a close call.
We dropped the outlaws off at their house, made a tinkle break and loaded back in the van for the drive home. The kids talked and fought the entire way thanks to the massive quantities of sugar still coursing through their little bodies. It was well past 2am before we pulled into our driveway. I almost kissed the house.
Mother out-law called yesterday morning to tell us we should plan to come back next weekend because she's planned a picnic and prayer service at her house. The phone call got mysteriously cut off. I have no idea what happened.
And so ends yet another holiday ruined by the out-laws.
