The Suck

Today, I woke up with a heavy head, and a light headache despite a full night's sleep. 

Headaches were not my thing, but I am learning new things every day. 

F has a sensitive tummy to three food items - gram flour (chickpea flour), watermelon and pomegranate. That has always been the case. 

All these things are available in our house, and commonly elsewhere, but I have always ensured that F does not eat it. 

Even with the chickpea, she is more sensitive to some preparations than others.

Long story short, she ate a gram flour do-not-give-ever thing on Saturday morning, and then, that same night we dined out, and her plumbing went into overdrive. She had diarrhoea and stomach ache yesterday. Today, I sent her straight to daycare and did not send her to school.

Here was a girl who was asking me to "mumma, make my tummy alright", and I couldn't make the discomfort disappear. I felt awful that I could not do anything that would bring instantaneous relief. 

But that was not the only thing that made me sad.

Earlier last week, my mum took M to the SuperPed for routine check up, and SuperPed said that M could be started on solids. 

My mum told me about it, and I said that she could go ahead as soon as he turned 5 months old. 

(Background note: There is a sacrament associated with the baby's first introduction to solids. The show that you can put up for this sacrament depends upon the family's wish, and it can be as short as we did, or a much elaborate one where you can use it as an excuse for a party.) 

M turned 5 months old on Saturday. Yesterday morning my mum sat M in my dad's lap, and in God's name, fed him his first bite of food. The sacrament was over. M can now have solids and well his journey into eating stuff other than lot of milk has begun.

I only came to know of this event in late afternoon, when my mum whats.app.ed an image to me. I did not think much and was happy. 

In the evening, DH came back from the office seething. My FIL had gone to my maternal home in the evening and was furious that 'his grandchild' had been introduced to solids without informing him. My FIL phoned my DH and ranted at top-lung about the gross injustice that had been meted out. My FIL's complaint was that he would have pre-poned his visit if he knew of the event; that atleast they should have been informed of such a thing happening. 

DH asked me if I knew about the sacrament, and when I answered yes, DH was upset with me. That's when I told him the whole story, and made him see that it was no big deal. It was not as if some giant secret ceremony was done in a hush-hush manner. It happened because I asked for it. It happened because I asked my mother to perform the sacrament and then give solids to M, that is why she had done it. I was not aware of the exact date and time myself. 

There was no party in my house. And the whole sacrament had just few people attending - my father, my mother, M, and the few Gods who were being invoked. 

Why is this a big deal?

I called my FIL, and he listened to me and then cussed himself. His capacity for wallowing in self-pity is epic. His capacity to rub on distress to someone else is also epic.

Apparently everything blows like this every few months in the household. It is fine for my sister-in-law to hide her pregnancy for 20 plus weeks, and then 'surprise' us all with the news. It is fine that her hospital charges are compensated in full by my father-in-law. He gets very mad every few episodes and then just puts everything under the rug. Everything is fine and cozy. Everyone is cozy.

The only thing I can do is to keep quiet, and let everything die its natural death. I have not let any thing reach my parent's ears, because for everything that they are doing in their capacity for my child, I will not allow the slanted perspectives of the other lot, mar their efforts. 

The thing is, no one ever completely told my FIL to suck it up, and he did not change after he grew up. The set-up is such that he refuses to look at anything from anyone else's point of view. It has always been that way.