what happened?

I sometimes gripe about my husband. Most of it is typical married annoyance. But, after this last week and all the bending over backwards that he has done for us, he deserves a medal. Or, at the very least, a big hug, a lot of appreciation and maybe a hit of oral pleasure. Not only did this man spend a pretty penny to send us to Arizona, but he dropped everything and got us on the next plane home at the first hint of trouble.

Zane and I are back home. Our trip to AZ was cut very short after he and I experienced a few unexpected, disturbing incidents. As WAS expected, the trip was less than pleasant. My cousin is not my favorite person. I find her shallow, selfish and insincere. She is and always has been a pampered princess and I know it. I still thought it unreasonable to leave her alone with her week-old infant when her husband was shipped off to Iraq... So, I asked Duane if I could go help her and he agreed without hesitation. She lives 3,500 miles from her nearest relative and none of them were planning to go there to help her. My motivation had mostly to do with my own solitary experience in those first weeks with my newborn son and my belief that no one should have to go it alone in those early days.

So, off I went, with Zane on my back. We made it there in one piece, despite a cancelled connecting flight from Las Vegas and an overnight stay (waiting in-line and hungry) in the America West Terminal. (DON'T EVER FLY AMERICA WEST!!!!!!!)

Things went relatively smoothly for a while. I walked her dog, held the baby, kept her in fresh fruit and veggies, cooked the meals, cleaned her house in small bursts and diverted Zee from her white carpets and various glass doo dads and hoo hahs. Because her house hadn't yet been child-proofed, this last bit took quite a bit of work, but it was doable.

Zane was understandably tired but still generally pleasant. My cousin, not being used to having a toddler in the house was losing her patience with the situation. She repeatedly told me that Zee was a "brat" who was "out of control" and "wild". It became evident (to me) that she really didn't want me there the night she left Zane and I alone, in her condo for 6 hours with no TV while she went to a "quick dinner" with her friends. I couldn't even take a walk, as there is a serial killer on the loose in her area.

The next day, she changed our plans to go have our nails done together and decided the salon was too small for Zane, so she would drop me off at the mall. We sat at the mall for over 3 hours, waiting for her. I later found out that she stopped at a friends house, yet again. When I talked to her about it, she said she felt she was doing us a "favor" because Zane needed to "expend some energy". Zane is no different than any other child his age. His behavior is completely age appropriate and many people have actually commented to me that he is well-behaved and a very happy child.

The camel's back broke the day that Zane ran into the bathroom, holding his hand and crying his terrified/hurt cry. I thought that he may have gotten a bit too rough with her dog or one of her cats, and maybe one of them nipped him, but further inspection of his hand proved this was not the case. His hand was fine. I walked him out to where she was sitting and feeding her son, and asked what happened.

First response: "nothing"
Me: something happened, he's afraid. What happened?
Second response: "He was playing with the chair, and I told him 'no'. He must not like to be told 'no'."
Me: Did he hurt his hand? He's holding his hand. Did you push him away or something?
Her, very defensively: "No, I didn't do anything, I didn't touch him. All I did was say 'no'. God, Krissie, don't you ever tell that kid, 'no'?"

The entire time, Zane is sobbing and holding his hand and moving as far away from her as he can get. I took him into the other room and calmed him down and decided not to let him out of my sight for the rest of the trip. Fortunately, that wasn't to be much longer. After telling the hubby what happened, he didn't want Zane to be anywhere near her, and he brought us directly home.

At some point, after I explained that we were leaving, and I felt she didn't need me anymore and I thought it would best serve everyone if we just went home, she brought up the incident again, and tried to feel me out on the subject. She said, "I'm sorry I scared Zane the other day, Geesh, you'd think I hit him or something." While she watched me, intently for a reaction. A better person may have took the bait and really let her have it. I, on the other hand, kept my mouth shut and asked her to drive us to the airport.

You may feel that I'm overreacting. I can live with that. I just couldn't see spending another minute working my ass off for someone who hurt my child and then lied about it. What kind of parent would that make me? Zane trumps EVERYTHING.