They are arriving early. On their way as I write this. We had six blissful days at the beach, away from the family and with no stress. It was the best Christmas I've had since, well, since I was a young kid and all I needed was the magic of Santa Claus. But now they are going to ruin it. We thought we had one more night before Brat and Wife showed up with everyone's little princess. I want to throw up.
I told myself all week that this will be a good weekend. I will not get caught up in the drama of my own grief and envy. I won't sit there sulking in bitterness and listing off my grudges against them. For awhile I actually believed I could do it. That was until the grandparents showed up and I saw that car seat base in the backseat while helping them unload. How can one small thing cause so much pain. It's just a piece of plastic, it's ridiculous.
There won't be one second of time where everyone isn't focused on the baby. It's so frustrating.