hola, isabel

As I may have mentioned, for Christmas my folks bought me (half) of a plane ticket out to visit them next week. (We will not go into the fact that The King thinks it’s very creepy that my Dad wants to see me pregnant.) Since this will be my only trip out there for a while (unless they pay for the baby and I to fly out again this summer), my best friend from high school asked if she could throw me a baby shower. And by “asked” I mean that I may have suggested that I would like someone to throw me a shower and she had no other choice but to agree to host one.

Marci is a busy girl. She has three kids under the age of five and tried to juggle them as well as being a ultra fabulous and classy lady. Plus, it’s not like she has a ton of money just sitting around just waiting to pay for food, decorations, and invitations for my little shower. That’s when I told her that my Mom would love to help her. Now I know this is against proper etiquette, but where I’m from they pay no attention to Emily Post and it is usually the family members that throw the showers. My mom will be doing all the food and my sister in law (who just had her own little baby) will be making a professional cake (since that’s what she does for a living at that store that sounds a lot like Bal-Fart).

I submitted my list of people I wanted Marci to invite. Just 4 of my closest girlfriends, as well as my Mom, sister and sister in law. This is exactly what I want and informed Marci of that. Just a little get-together with the ladies I love the most. We can eat, gossip, ohh & aww over cute things for the baby, and talk about labor!! Sounds perfect, right?

Enter…my Mother. The baby shower Nazi.

Marci called me on Saturday to tell me that my Mom has been calling her non stop and leaving her messages. Marci was too busy to call her back until Saturday, when my mom proceeded to be upset that it took her so long to return her calls. After that, I guess my Mom gave Marci some more names of people she wanted to invite to shower. People like my Grandma, my Mom’s sister, my Dad’s sister and two of my Dad’s brother’s wives, some friends of mine she thought I was leaving out, and also my Mother’s cousin. Yes, her cousin. (oh, and of course she wanted to invite my cousins). This is exactly not what I wanted.

My family and my girlfriends really won’t mesh. It isn’t the right setting. Plus, this puts Marci out even more. I called my Mother and told her that I didn’t want the family members to be invited because I wanted to be able to spend time with my friends and I didn’t feel like I would be able to with my family members there. My Mom assured me that I wouldn’t have to spend any time with them. She said she would entertain them and I wouldn’t even have to talk to them.

Okay, now this is just about gift mongering. Is she serious? I won’t have to talk to these people? Just take their gifts and push them over to the side of the room where my Mom will entertain them?

Then my Mom started to barter with me on who can stay on the list and who has to go. She didn’t want to leave out her Mom and sister. She eventually let it slip that she may have mentioned the shower to them already, so they had to be invited. I caved and told her that my Grandma could come (she’s old and doesn’t get to see me very often), but not my Aunt. (For the record I love, love, love my aunt and enjoy being with her. But again, the two groups don’t mesh very well.)

We moved on from the baby shower guest list talk and started to talk about other plans for while I’m out there visiting. So slyly my Mom brought up the guest list again and asked (again) of my Aunt could come.

She would not let up.

As far as I know, my Aunt has not been invited. But my Grandma and my uncle’s new wife are invited. Marci has been given strict instructions to clear everything my Mom tells her with me.

All of this mess aside, I am really looking forward to my first baby shower. I can’t wait to see my friends (who I adore) and maybe this shower will be early enough that I won’t look like a whale in all the pictures. (Wish me luck with that one!)