For us and many other similar people struggling every week to make ends meet, close family members are often a huge part of achieving success as parents.
It was our parents and grandparents who helped us get through the purchase of a new house, the difficult pregnancy, the birth of Benjamin, and his care so far. They propped us up - not only financially, but psychologically.
On top of all that, the (grand)mothers in particular have assisted us by watching the baby boy when Marie and I need a few hours to run weekly errands, or on rarer occasions (every couple months) when we simply need a break to enjoy ourselves.
We could never truly thank any of them enough.
And yet...as bad and ungrateful as it sounds...it's hard to trust even your immediate family with your beautiful baby.
Did you feed him too much? 3 bottles in 3 hours? What were you thinking?!
Did you play with him too much? He needs a nap!
Did you make safe/clean decisions while tending to him? Where did you find that toy he's handling?!
(Note: we rarely express these concerns so directly...except in the most egregious circumstances)
As neurotic germophobes, Marie and I both struggle a lot with that last question. When we realize one of the grandmothers handled garbage or held the cat before touching Benjamin, or gave him a teething toy that wasn't sterilized, or did any number of other frightening things...we freak out.
It isn't fair of us, but we feel like it's pretty natural and normal. Neither of us have ever had anything we cared about so much (other than each other). So, we're crazy about him. And just flat-out crazy.
