The Helpful Little Suggestion

Dear Tante Ingrid,

Mama said you might like a little letter telling you about Oma’s trip here to visit us. Mama says you’re working very hard, so you might like a little break.

It’s been very nice having an Oma here. She thinks it’s a crime that I have to sleep in my swing, so I’ve spent lots of time cuddled with her and sleeping in her arms. It’s very comfy and soft. She keeps putting “a little blanket” over me. I don’t think it’s so little, ‘cause I always wake up sweaty. Then my hair sticks straight up. But that’s OK. I like to look at Oma and smile and grab her nose when I’m awake.

Oma feeds me, too. Mama makes the food. Oma said my Babycook is really neat and whatever Mama paid for it, it was worth it. I agree! After Mama makes the food, Oma feeds me tiny little molecules and announces I’m all done. Fooey! You couldn’t keep a bird alive on those portions. Lucky for me Mama comes over and feeds me the rest of the food while Oma says, “your Mama sure does shovel it in, doesn’t she?”

Actually, Oma says things like that a lot. She asks me and Sabrina if maybe your Mama has a napkin, or if maybe your Mama could bring over a warm wet washcloth (like Mama makes us use the cold damp kind?), or if maybe your Mama made coffee, or if maybe your Mama could pour some juice, or if maybe your Mama has a burp cloth. You’d think she could tell that Sabrina and I are not Mama, and cannot answer the question. Maybe her eyesight is going?

It seems like lots of things are going on Oma. She says her back hurts, her neck hurts, her hands hurt, and her hips hurt. It’s kind of sad. I think this kidney infection has taken it out of her. I don’t know what a kidney is, but it seems pretty important. Oma can’t even get up with me in her arms, or change my diaper in the pack-n-play, or put me in the swing, or pick me up. It’s OK, though, ‘cause “maybe your Mama could do it?” Ha ha!

One thing that’s not going is that lady’s trigger finger. She takes lots and lots of pictures. I think I look pretty good in most of them, even the ones where Sabrina has her hands over her eyes. Oma took some nice pictures when we went to Salt Lake City and saw the temple of that fellow whose name sounds like “Moron.” Sabrina and I had fun on that trip, once Sabrina had her tantrum. After her tantrum she saw a crane—just like on Thomas—and Miss Mirjam pushed her in a stroller and we had some German food so it was all OK.

That Sabrina sister of mine likes having Oma here too. She keeps calling Oma “Mama” and Mama “Oma.” Oma loves that. Oma watches big sister Sabrina play with her trains and reads her German books. Sabrina loves getting all that attention. (Sabrina is always saying, “Mama, I need your ‘tension!” And Mama says, “You have it, little girl, you have it.”)

Oma also spends lots of time trying to do Sabrina’s hair and asking Sabrina if she has to go potty. Sabrina doesn’t like those parts too much.

Today Sabrina had a screaming tantrum because Mama made her sit on the potty. When Sabrina was screaming and crying and kicking and stomping and flailing and falling straight off the potty and playing limp-dead in Mama’s arms, Oma said from the rocking chair, “Don’t wake up the baby!” Mama got real mad and said, “like that’s our biggest problem right now.”

Mama seems kinda cranky—like what she said about big sister’s temper-tantrum. She likes it when Oma says she’s a good Mama. Sometimes Oma and Mama talk and laugh together, and that’s nice too. Oma thinks Mama is funny, and that’s good. But Mama doesn’t like it too much when Oma makes helpful little suggestions. You can tell a helpful little suggestion is coming, because the sentence always starts with, “In my mind, a person ought to . . . .”

In Oma’s mind, a person ought to sit on the potty first thing in the morning and before they do pretty much everything else except blink. A person ought to pull her hair out of her eyes. A person ought to get dressed first thing in the morning. A person ought not take the birth control pill or any other medication if they don’t have to. Except some new birth control pill that Oma saw on TV that treats some disease Oma has never heard of and can’t say but she thinks Mama probably has because the list of symptoms sound just like all of Mama’s problems so she thinks Mama’s depression and anxiety is probably hormonal. A person’s husband ought to have a vasectomy and not be so selfish. A person ought not remind Sabrina too often, but ought to tell Sabrina every once in a while that Sabrina’s bad behavior sets a bad example for Linnea (Mama says it’s not Sabrina’s job to be an example for me and that saying that kind of thing just sets up rivalry.) A person ought not to let Sabrina play upstairs by herself because that child has entirely too much autonomy. A person can’t sleep with a light on like Sabrina’s light, and that’s probably why Sabrina has trouble falling asleep. A person ought to watch Oma do Sabrina’s hair because Sabrina just never argues about it. Maybe Oma is going deaf as well as blind?

We’ve done some fun stuff too. We went for a walk along the river, and had a play date.
Also, Mama’s friend Jody has a mama, and Jody’s Mama came over yesterday with a casserole. I guess it’s because Grammy died. Jody’s Mama lives in Salt Lake City and was coming to Provo anyway, so she said it wasn’t out of her way. She also said she would love to come play with us!

Last night Oma took us all out for dinner and we had a nice time. I cried before dinner and after dinner, but during dinner I was an angel. I didn’t even cry when the waitress called me a boy. Sabrina was really well behaved, too, and ate a good dinner of French fries and bread.

Today we went grocery shopping at Wal-Mart after naps. Mama says she dropped from Whole Foods to Wal-Mart in the blink of a job.

Oma had to come to Wal-Mart with us. She didn’t like that much. Oma says if she hadn’t been such a loudmouth about keeping Wal-Mart out of Windsor there might be some nice things she would buy there. But now she can’t show her face anywhere near that place.

Oma and Daddy have been getting along, so that’s good. Oma asked at lunch today if Mama had life insurance on Daddy. If I were Daddy, I’d sleep with one eye open.

Love,
Little Linnie Lou-Hoo

P.S. Daddy says if Mama doesn’t like helpful little suggestions, she should heal herself. He says she’s the queen of the helpful little suggestion. Isn’t being a queen good?