Niece

So the girls (Munchkin and Squirm) and I went to visit Niece and Niece Momma (that's the suggested nickname and I'm going with it until further notice) in the hospital on Thursday. Niece is beautiful. I didn't expect less. We don't have ugly babies in our family. Luckily our genes dominate over less desirable genes and cute wins out every time. She is pink with a head full of dark hair. I could attribute her color to the fact that her mother is white. However, we run the gamut of colors in my family and quite frankly I was whiter than she was when I was born. Squirm was about the same color. So we did the ear test. Yes, the ear test. We looked at the tips of her ears to see what color she will evenutally be. It has not failed us yet. She'll probably be tan but only time will tell. I will say this - she sets her mouth like my mother so I only see hilarity in Brothaman's future when he has to deal with the smart-mouth girl. Muhahaha!

Munchkin got to hold her cousin. Niece slept the whole time. I held niece pretty much the whole time we were there. She cried when she got some blood taken. Then she pooped. Nice. Poop on your aunt. So I changed the diaper. It's not like I don't know how. She HOWLED when I changed her. I had to let her know we don't appreciate stinky babies so she needed to suck it up. Yes I talk to babies like they are adults. It works wonders for their development. Squirm can't talk much yet but she understands when I talk to her. She follows directions quite well so don't tell me that just because babies can't talk back they don't understand what you are saying to them.

I got to meet Niece Momma's parents. Of course they asked me a 100 questions. I still say this could have been taken care of months ago, but Brothaman is an ass and it didn't happen. Yes I called my brother an ass. He's my brother, not yours and I can call him whatever I want. I asked for him and he belongs to me. The only thing that pissed me off is that these are the same questions they asked Gommie (refresher: Gommie = my mother). What? They thought we would give different answers? After I answered, it was always, "Well your mother said..." Well if my mother said what the hell are you asking me for? But I didn't get flippant. I smiled and nooded and bit my tongue. My mother taught me to honor my elders even when they ask you stupid and redundant questions. I didn't come visit to get to know you; I came to visit my niece. Please shut up so I can enjoy this time.

The other weird thing is that they call Brothaman by his full first name. The family and close friends all call him by his nickname. No one calls him by his "given name" except teachers, strangers and people he doesn't really like. I didn't say anything but I stored that away for later reference. These people aren't teachers so they are either strangers (duh?) or people he doesn't like. I'm curious to know which. I still need to grill my brother on some things and you can be sure that will be a topic of discussion. That and how those bruises are healing up from where Gommie clocked him several times. You can't say I didn't warn him.

I still haven't talked to Brothaman. When I tried to call him I got no answer. He wasn't at the hospital when we visited. He was at work. I'll have to call him in a few days to see how his little "family" is doing. I know how he's doing. He's not ready. He just got a shitload of responsibility dumped on him and he's not ready. I almost feel sorry for him. But the mean part of me says that if you had been a little more forthcoming with your news you could have had some people help you prep. You wouldn't be caught totally unawares. According to Gommie, something's up. Let's see what the next few weeks hold, shall we?