Of course it doesn't bother me that my SIL brought the baby (like she could leave a four-month-old home). But why did I not realize my husband (not very dear just now) would immediately swoop in and try to parent her child?
We got in at almost midnight, but of course immediately he wanted to see the baby. I thought about staying downstairs, but figured I could stand a visit to a sleeping child. OK, almost sleeping. And who had to take him out of the crib? And bring him downstairs? And hold him, and feed him, for the entire duration of the wretched evening? That's right. Keep in mind, this child has been on TWO flights today, is sleeping in a strange house, and is from a different time zone. I think I mentioned - cheerily - that he would have a bad day tomorrow if he didn't get to sleep now five times before we left the bedroom. I continued to bring it up when we were in the living room. Of course, his parents and sister see nothing odd about him holding his nephew. Only I saw it.
And it wasn't a provocation - it was a knife. It was like I had been taken over by a monster; I couldn't look at him without becoming more upset and I couldn't pay attention to anything else. I found myself being curt and sarcastic with my 70yo FIL, to whom I have never spoken a disrespectful word. I couldn't stop myself. I wanted everyone in that room to die. I wanted to run screaming, but where do I go? Finally I just went to bed.
When my H joined me I just wanted to be left alone; I said it had been a long day. Was it the baby, he asks. I started crying. Now he is on baby probation, can't even hold his own nephew. (Who is a beautiful child. If only he were a troll...) I fled to the bathroom and collapsed in tears on the floor. I haven't cried over IF in years. I am a disaster. I'm four inches taller than my SIL, 20 pounds lighter, I have pretty hair and she has an unflattering dye job (update: after I saw it done the next day, I decided the hair color actually looks really good. And, in fact, she's gotten in great shape since she had the baby. But still). I know she thinks I'm worthy of envy. I can't even watch my husband hold her son.
I want to tell him to go home to Arizona with her, since her family is the one that he wants. I know he wasn't trying to hurt me, but as of now I am planning to spend the night in the bathroom. I thought I was so tough. I am a failure. And I don't even give a rat's ass about mother's day. I want to go home, and I don't want to be married any more.