Thanks for the cancer support, all. Will pass on any ~ma to The Girl. (Who is currently in rehearsals 8am till 8pm most days of the week, so I'm not really seeing her anyway. Ah, the life of a theatre widow.)

If any of you ever do come (back) to London, you have ready-made guides - just let us know. I am engaged to the world's biggest London history and transport geek. Especially transport. She's a freak.

Is your girl studying The Knowledge just for the heck of it, or in hopes of becoming a cabbie? Or, you know, just to get around?

Heh. She would totally do it just to learn how to get around better. But yes, she wants to be a cabbie. It would be an awesome day job for a theatre director. She's about half way through learning it all, which is pretty impressive. (It's so much fun to yell things like "British Library to Clapham High Street! Go!" at her, and hear her reel off street names I've never heard of. She's also becoming very good at getting us out when we are Lost In Bloomsbury.)

I think it's because until very recently, fridges over there were TEENY compared to the US, so you really only had room to refrigerate the things that absolutely needed it.

They still are quite a bit smaller than US ones. We want a US-style fridge for our new house. It would be awesome. All the cold Diet Coke you could want! All the time!

{{{sj}}}

American fridges are huge. But it seems as though all the products are bigger too so it kind of balances out. Like the massive cartons of juice you can get.

Well, I guess we all know who to blame when the oil runs out. Sorry, world! We just like keeping things cold!

PMS-y overly emotional rant ahead:

So my mother in law made a pretty innocent comment on my FB about me needing more kids. Actually, she was agreeing with a friend of ours that said I needed more when I posted I didn't finish my chores. I know the spirit in which she meant it, but GD - shut up lady. I know she's totally clueless and doesn't think before she speaks, but maybe she could TAKE A BLEEDING HINT that if there have been no other children in ALMOST SIX YEARS, there's a good chance there aren't going to be anymore OR that there's a problem. Not everyone waits NINETEEN YEARS to have a second effing kid, like she did.

I know I'm all hormonal and shit, and that she wasn't trying to be hurtful, but damn. Let's at least use both hands to try to find a clue, please?

Personally, I think that anyone commenting the size of someone else's family is rude as fuck.

Aims, I just saw that and came over here to see if you were OK. I blanched when I read it. Maybe she didn't mean to be hurtful, but seriously, WTF???

I'm sorry. Is there something that would be helpful and/or satisfying for me to comment on there?

Oh, holy fuck, Aims, what is wrong with people??

Personally, I think that anyone commenting the size of someone else's family is rude as fuck.

Even more rude than commenting on the size of someone else's refrigerator?

I'm mostly ok. I need to email her and say, "I know you didn't mean to be hurtful, but there aren't any more children because there are issues." but I know - I flipping KNOW - that she's going to reply with how she couldn't conceive anymore after D and how sad she was and wtf-ever. I can hear that from friends and know that it's coming from a place of empathy. I can not hear her in a place of empathy - we don't have that relationship. Largely because I reject it, for damn sure.

Like our friend R, who made the "you need more kids" comment in the first place. I know he's joking with me because he has a shit ton of kids who are all over 10 and who do all the chores. We joke about his little housecleaning army. There's an inside joke there. But as my MiL, she doesn't get to say "Agreed". It's awhole other ball of wax. Unless I'm just being cranky. Please tell me if I'm just being cranky.

{{{Aims}}} I'm sorry for the cluelessness.

We joke about his little housecleaning army. There's an inside joke there. But as my MiL, she doesn't get to say "Agreed".

Oh, yeah. That's not cool. You may be cranky, but she's the one who took it to a serious (and hurtful) place.