Not All MILs Were Well-Behaved

New Year’s weekend, we lost electricity to our home. The first night we spent in a hotel unaware that the storm’s affect would take days to resolve. The second night, my husband explained to his mother that again we were displaced. She suggested we stay at their home. A kind enough offer, which we have had to repeatedly turn down on other types of occassions due to my allergies and their cats.

He reminded her again about my allergies. The woman, true to herself, turned hostile and said, “Fine. Go home and freeze.”

I believe the correct response, dear MIL, would have been to either offer to help defer the cost of another hotel stay (which your son would have graciously declined even though you shit money) or to wish us a simple good luck and then shut your big, bitter mouth.

And I swear, if she tells me to “shut your kid up” one more time, I’ll jack her. I don’t care if she’s 83.

Appreciation? …Not

My MIL is in her 80’s. Recently she began using a cane full-time. She has artificial knees. She will not take showers, she will only take baths…upstairs in their house, as it is the only tub in the house (the main floor bath is shower only). For years now, my FIL has had several contractors in the house in order to make life for MIL a little more convenient. One day she caught one of the contractors in the house with FIL and she threw a fit right there and nearly gave herself a heart-attack kicking the poor man out of the house.

 Last night, MIL and FIL got into a shouting match in a public restaurant. He mentioned that this winter he will have someone come in a put in another bathroom, just for her and she went ape-shit.The most frustrating? They have the means to get it done, but she is so ungrateful and always thinking there’s an ulterior motive that she refuses to let anyone do anything nice for her. It’s really sad that someone could put their stubbornness and pride before their own safety and well-being.

Beach House Hell

Why is it when we have to go on vacation with you, you can find no happiness or bright spot the entire time? When we were at your daughter’s beach house, a beautiful new home a block from the ocean with its own pool, you still bitched incessantly. “The flight is too long” “Too many stairs!” “It’s too hot!” “I hate the ocean!” “I hate the beach” “I’m not going out to eat again!” “I don’t need to go shopping!” “The kids are too loud!” “Your father [my FIL] snores all goddamn night!” and it goes on and on, ad nauseum.

You really make it hard to enjoy a vacation when everyone (everyone being your children and grandchildren), seems to think they are obligated to make the trip worthwhile to you in which we sacrifice our own enjoyment. However, you insist on going each time. Next time we will arrange to get a camper for you to stay in so you don’t have to participate in any of the activities or hear the laughter from the kids.

 Vacation with the mother-in-law? …Oxymoron.

Your Lack of Concern Overwhelms Me

Sorry we haven’t bothered telling you the outcome of IVF #2, which failed; but I’m guessing that your concern is immeasurable – as in below the charts – since you have asked neither my husband nor myself how things went. It’s such a damn pity that we live less than a mile from you and that phones are such an inconvenience. And heaven forbid you ask me the when we went out for dinner and I sat right next to you the other night. Oh, and another thing, thank you so much for shoving the pictures of your new great-granddaughter under my nose. It was just the right thing to do to keep my appetite to a minimum.

How NOT to Show Your Support

I never knew that our family-building attempts were such a burden to you so when you responded with “Again???!!!” in disgust after we told you we were going to try IVF #2, it made me wonder that either a) our one child is one too many especially considering the time (or lack thereof) that you spend with him; or b) you have no concept of what the difference is between “two” and “two-hundred”. Thank you so much for your loving support in what we consider a very difficult time.

Sweet Tooth

I realize that in your family candy, snacks, treats, bite-size Whatevers are staples, which is evident by your entire family’s battles with weight, including the son I married. HOWEVER, I do not need you to suck my son into that life by bringing him candy. I’m getting tired of him turning into Pavlov’s dog everytime he sees you; and frankly, he will remember you more for paying attention to him instead of the reason he has to see the dentist every three months.

Stocking of Coal

Remember the “Grandma’s Journal” that we gave to you Christmas 2004 to fill out and complete during all your spare time watching Wheel of Fortune, PGA Tour, bowling, napping, etc., and then give to your grandson? We gave that to you since you have everything you possibly already need and want and thought that being able to pass on your thoughts and “wisdom” to your then two year old grandson since he will probably never remember you – as you are now into your 80’s – something you might find inspirational.

 However, when Christmas 2005 came and I saw that the journal was not only sitting in the unused parlor in the exact same spot you left it a year earlier, still in the box, BUT you still had not ONE GODDAMN WORD written in it. Well, just in case you ever notice (bwahahahahahaha!), I took it back and gave it to my mother. She’s nearly completed it, too, …even though she still works outside the home.

Perfect Daughter In Law

How naïve would it be of me to believe that of your three daughter-in-laws, you have never referred to me as either “Weird,” “A Bitch,” or “Stupid,” since that’s the only way you describe the other two sister-in-laws behind their backs? Could I really be that perfect?

Fashion Victim

Yes, I know that is one of the cardigan sets we got you for Christmas, as not only did I buy it, and obviously GIVE it to you, but you told me the last time you wore it as well. You don’t hear me pointing out everything you have bought for me…

 …uh, right. Never mind.

He HAS A Name

My son has a name. He’s had it since he was born. It’s very simple, just three letters and only one syllable. And since he is already 4 years old, he even responds to his name, so it is not appreciated that you try to obtain his attention by calling out, “Hey, you,” “Hey, mister,” or to whistle; say psst; or make kissing noises as you would when trying to call your cat.