The Sister Aggravation

I want to punch my sister in the face.

End of story.

Ok, fine, let's backtrack and see how I came to this shocking (or not so shocking) conclusion.

The four or us have always gotten along pretty well managed to get along. In past years we have found enjoyment playing beach volleyball during our annual family beach vacation. Eventually this led us to play recreationally with sports in our area (the most epic being soccer but most successful volleyball).

It's nice to see my siblings and spend time with them. I look forward to it, especially now that I can play again after having Anna.

Except this week. I go to the game and my sister M was there. First thing she says:

"Why didn't you have D bring Anna?"

Right. Cause hauling a 3 month old to a rec volleyball game at 7:00 at night seems like good parenting. Her bedtime is 8:00, and I'm sure my husband just wants to sit there watching for a whole hour.

Uh, no?

As we warmed up, somehow the conversation got into whininess and how annoying it is. Then my sister says:

"You should hear E, she's a whiner. Especially when she's pregnant."

Excuse me?

First, as a pregnant woman at the time, I am entitled to bitch my way through all 9 months if I so choose. M has never been pregnant, and therefore believes it is her right to judge me as her body has never been the subject of a foreign hostile takeover by an alien-like being. Why should I be allowed to whine about morning sickness, swollen feet, sore back, general discomfort, kicks got the ribs, or the fact that my boobs can't be touched for a least a year?

Second, I am pretty sure the night my husband and I got engaged, and every family gathering thereafter she has asked when I was going I give her a niece or nephew. So shut your piehole about a few gasps of surprise at being drop kicked in the spleen from the inside out. You got what you wanted - say THANKS.

And third, WTF? What the hell did I ever do to you? Oh, that's right, I gave you the niece you wanted. And P.S.: if my own husband fathoms at the fact that I don't complain about my 2 hour commute to work, you really expect me to believe I was a "whiner" through my whole pregnancy?

I might have been a winer. Maybe.

If I drank wine.