First Born Fuck Ups

When parents tell you that they love you equally, that might be true. But they sure as well don't treat you equally. I am the baby of the family. You'd think I'd get away with almost anything. Nope. Because I apparently seem to have everything together, my parents feel the need to help more with my sibling. I have to see what my sibling's schedule is like so that *I* don't interfere.

So the other day I asked if one or both of my parents could watch my son for a morning. I didn't want to add fuel to the fire of my husband complaining about not getting <gasp> anything done <gasp> around the place. So I thought I would at least have a plan B in place.

You know what I got for an answer? It wasn't the resounding YES that I was expecting.   I saw red almost instantly and blocked out a portion of the conversation.

You see, I wouldn't mind so much but my parents already ditched out on me and my son earlier in the week. Now instead of staying until evening on their specified Grandma and Grandpa day, they rush out the door the minute I show up. Why? Because they have other plans.

But the following day when they have their Grandma and Grandpa day with my sibling, they bend over backwards. They were spending the night because my sibling asked them to. Well, it was "work" related. So of COURSE they had to help out. So when I was told that my parents didn't want to watch my son but they were willing to spend extra time with my sibling's children, I really started seeing the light.

It's not only my family that plays favorites to the eldest child. My husband's family is exactly the same way. The second child (ie, baby of the family) is considered just another member of the family. I'm not sure if it's first baby syndrome or if the first child in the family is a total fuck up (or should I say "needs to make better choices"), but no matter the case, the parents view the second child as having it altogether. So instead of spending equal time, they pamper the one they think needs more help (ie, first child), even if said child can't make good choices.

It's frustrating beyond belief. I said that my son would never play second fiddle to his cousins. And I'll make damn sure of it. I've already cut two family members out of my life. Guess I'm going to have to start coming up with more than Plan A and Plan B solutions.

Fatty Fat Fat

I’ve been eating like it’s going out of style or like the end of the world is coming and I want to enjoy every last piece of chocolate on earth. That means I’ve gained weight.  No one tells you that when you hit 35, life starts going downhill. Or maybe as you get older, you realize that 35 wasn’t as bad as the later years. But no matter what, since I’ve been 35 life has pretty much sucked. I look at a cookie and I gain a pound. I sniff a cookie and I gain two pounds. I lick a cookie and I gain four pounds. And heaven forbid if I eat a cookie, I gain seven pounds.

All I can say is, damn those cookies tasted good.

Yes, I’m fat. Fat to the point of needing to buy bigger jeans. The current jeans aren’t to the point where I have to lie down to put them on, but they dig in to my fat belly. I have donelap disease (you know, my belly has done lapped my belt). I also discovered yet another downfall to eating so much. You poop a lot more. In the past few months (the months that I’ve stuffed my face with every piece of chocolate I could get my grubby hands on), I’ve also increased the time on my royal throne.

Because I can’t sit comfortably in a chair while at work (they don’t allow comfy pants and I refuse to wear anything but jeans), and I’m tired of crapping multiple times of day (I know TMI but seriously, I used to only go every other day), I decided I’d put myself on a diet.

I’d normally just work out more. Well, not really work out. I don’t work out. I don’t sweat. I don’t glow. I don’t exercise. I have chores that entail a lot of work so I consider that my workout. But with a toddler, there goes any opportunity but to chase a screaming child from one room to the next. You’d think that would be enough exercise to keep the weight off but it’s not.

If you don’t work out, you have to cut down on how much you eat. That’s exactly what I decided I would do. I have an oral fixation (with food. Get your mind out of the gutter.) And I have a boring job. The only way to keep myself awake is to snack. Also, now that I’ve had a toddler, I have ADD (and am constantly exhausted).  I have to switch my brain every 10 minutes otherwise I lose my concentration and start falling asleep (squirrel). Back in January, it was so bad that I was passing out behind the wheel driving to work. Yeah, I’m that dedicated to my job (note the sarcasm).

But I digress. So I put myself on a diet. Surprisingly, nothing sounded good last night and I didn’t want to make anything because the stupid husband is being a dickhead again. I decided I would just have cereal. For some reason I’d picked up raisin bran. It sounded good and I hadn’t had it in a while. What the fuck was I thinking eating raisin bran?!?! Seriously? I already shit more each day because I eat so much, then I had BRAN??  The amount of poop I’ve shit out over the past 12 hours will probably explain any of my current weight loss.

Some days I wonder about my sanity. Here’s to day two of No Snacky Snacky Diet.