MIL Loves The Ridiculous

My MIL loves all things frilly. The more lace, sequins, or gaudy the better. Really, the more uncomfortable it looks, the more she loves it.

My 9 month old daughter got a Halloween sweatshirt in the mail from her. It is cute. However, the decal on the front? Hard, sequined, and scratchy. Also, it is of the cheap variety where the decal moves as one unit instead of folding. With a crawling infant, fabric must move.

Anyway, I sent my little girl in this sweatshirt to daycare in honor of Halloween. I picked her up that day and she had scratches. On her chin. From the sweatshirt. They weren’t deep or anything but still, seeing a bunch of scratches on your daughters chin because of her clothes… well that’s just not something a mom wants to see.

MIL gifts that are clothes will now be tested for safety purposes before being worn.

Listen Here, Lil’ Lady

My father-in-law is a bit of a chauvinist.  Sometimes I wonder how my MIL puts up with him; then again, she’s a bit of a ditz and I’m not sure she always sees it.  Whenever FIL has some piece of information or “interesting” tidbit to impart, he always addresses it to me–clearly, the little lady needs to be instructed.  But if he wants an opinion or has a question, he always addresses it to my husband–clearly, the menfolk are the only ones capable of making decisions. 

He’s convinced that he’s always right.  He also pretty much ignores anything I’ve ever said to correct him.  While they were at the zoo with my son, they spent a long time in The Living Treehouse watching the lemurs.

FIL: “But they weren’t actually lemurs, they were some other animal.”

Me: “Both the sign and the keeper who spoke to us last time told us that they’re ring-tailed lemurs.”

FIL: “No, no–they might be related to lemurs, but lemurs are red.  These weren’t lemurs.  They just call them that so it’s simpler.”

I dropped it when I saw my husband rolling his eyes at his father.  There’s no way to convince him that he’s wrong without making him look like an idiot…and he does that so well on his own.

I sometimes wonder how my husband turned out so normal.

Too Many Cooks

Last year my husband and I had just moved into our first house and since Christmas was my family’s holiday (we alternate), I convinced them to let me host for the first time. In the spirit of the holidays, I offered to let my in-laws come as well and they accepted. We did the main stuff – the turkey, the stuffing, and I even made my famous pumpkin pie.

We asked everyone else to bring something and assigned the various items so we’d get an even range and not 14 green bean casseroles. (There were approximately 20 people invited and they all came). Unfortunately, my mother-in-law (who lives  5 minutes away) decided that all the prep she needed to do could be done in my tiny kitchen while I was trying to finish up the stuff I was responsible for. She also decided that we needed 5 types of appetizers (complete with multiple dips that she had to borrow my bowls and mixers to make) at the last minute, etc. There was no place to put anything and since we don’t have dishwasher, stacking up the dishes to be cleaned just caused even more mess.

We survived the day without anyone killing each other but the next day when I went back to work they decided to invade our house for that evening, too, using the grill we got for Christmas, etc. My kitchen had been clean when I left in the AM, but by the time I returned home at 6 there they were – making more dips (they’d thrown out the left over dips from the night before since much of it was dairy that sat out all day, etc.) and re-messing up my kitchen.

Here’s One NOT About The MIL!

My BIL has always made every thing a competition.  When we were looking at houses shortly after we got married, he and his girlfriend at the time decided that they were going to buy or build a huge house with lots of land for her horses.  I guess the fact that he has crappy credit escapes him.  

Everything in his life is done because somebody else is going to do it and he has to keep up or do better. His friend bought a brand new truck, so he had to go out and buy a new truck.  His friend bought a brand new motorcycle, so he had to go out right away and buy a brand new motorcycle just like it. We were getting married, so he had to hurry up and get engaged (which, fell through, by the way.)  His whole life everything has been about him and he absolutely HATES that anybody else gets his mother’s attention, but yet this is the child who doesn’t really care about his family until he has a GF to show off.

So now we are married and thinking about having children, so he hurried up and got his GF pregnant.  The biggest thing for him is that my MIL and I are close (despite our spats and disagreements) and we do things together.  A few years ago, he complained that his mom never wanted to do anything with his GF at that time and that it bothered his GF.  The truth of the matter is that my MIL had asked her to do things and she never wanted to, so she quit asking; that and she didn’t really care for the rest of us or try to do anything with his family.  It bothered him more than it bothered her. 

Now he has a new GF who is pregnant, and my MIL and I just signed up for a sewing class together – gee I wonder what he will have to say about that!  The final straw for DH was when my mom put on a small get-together a couple of weeks ago for his 25^th birthday and invited his parents and two brothers.  The BIL in question was in town that day, but didn’t even bother to try and make it because he had made plans with his friends.  The party was on Friday evening, and he didn’t even attempt to call until the Monday night after.

All I can say is that both DH and I are done playing his game and he knows where to find us when he grows up.

She’s DRUNK!

DH and I are sitting on the couch this past Saturday night, watching a feel-good zombie comedy after the little one had fallen asleep. The phone rings and DH answers. It’s his father. I can hear bits and pieces of his father’s voice on the other end of the phone, but what really grabs me is the loud, angry phrase “She’s DRUNK!”

Here’s the conversation:

FIL: What was in that beer you gave your mother?

DH: What beer?

FIL: That beer! She drank that beer and now she’s SICK!

DH: I didn’t give her that beer, I only told her what brand it was. She bought it with Uncle Jeff.

FIL: She’s throwing up! Do you hear her? She’s DRUNK! DRUNK!!! Does she have alcohol poisoning? What was in that beer?!!

DH: Well, it’s strong beer. How many did she have?

FIL: I don’t know! She’s throwing up. Let me ask her. [Sounds of stomping, and FIL shouting at MIL, asking: "How many did you have? HOW MANY?!" Weak female voice says: "I don't know, it was Bobby's beer. I had one and some of another." *heaves*]

FIL: She had two! TWO BEERS!! Is she sick? What do I do? Could she have alcohol poisoning? What do I DO!?*

DH: [Looking at me] She had two beers?

FIL: Yes!

DH: Tell her to drink some water, take some advil and go to sleep. Did she eat anything today?

FIL: I don’t know.

DH: Well, tell her to eat something, too.

FIL: Should I take her to the emergency room? She’s throwing up!

DH: I’m sure she’ll be fine. Just make sure she drinks some water and takes advil. [Prompting from me] And eats something. And takes vitamin B complex, if you have it. Do you want me to come over? [I shake my head no]

FIL: I don’t know. I can’t believe she’s drunk! I think I’m going to take her to the emergency room. Damnit! MOTHERFUCK!

DH: Dad, she’ll be fine, just let her sleep it off. She’ll be okay. Just give her some water. Don’t worry.

FIL: Okay. I’ll talk to you later. [Hangs up]

*After my husband relayed this exchange to me, I told him he should have asked his father “Well, what did you used to do when you were drunk?” As apparently his father is a dry alcoholic who spent a few years drunk when DH was growing up. DH laughed until he cried, but said he couldn’t really say that to his father. No I wouldn’t imagine he could, but it’s still funny to think about.

FYI, my MIL was fine the next day. Did not travel to emergency room. Although we had fun imagining the looks on the nurses faces if he had brought her in.

Litany

Hosting Christmas one year was a complete debacle because of her. She was by far the worst house guest I’ve ever had. She continually asked me my opinion of how we should do things and then let me know that I had chose incorrectly on everything.

************************ My husband wrote a book. When she first saw a published copy of it, she actually commented out loud that he had not thanked her in the acknowledgments although he had mentioned me. Who DOES that? I  mean, maybe I can understand thinking such a thing (although that’s even a stretch) but to say it out loud is appalling.

************************She was planning to come to town for a brief stay, during a layover on her way home from an overseas trip. She told me to “figure out where she was going to stay.” Like I am her travel agent or something? Like I don’t have a job and a baby to deal with?

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I’m bracing for two visits with her over the holidays and need to try to flush these things from my mind or else I might snap her head off when she walks in the door.

What’s Next? A Curfew?

My MIL came to stay with me literally three days after we had moved across country into a new house. I had no furniture, no nothing in my house.

My husband had to go on a business trip and was not around when she came into town but returned midway through her visit.

The night he got home, when we were going to get him from the airport, she told me “Why don’t you go make a pass through your bedroom to straighten up?” 

That’s right, my MIL told me to go clean my room! What she wanted me to clean up and where she wanted me to put anything is beyond me. I was living on an air mattress. It’s not like I even had a dresser to store my clothes in!

More Housekeeping Notes:

• Stories can be emailed to inlawssuck@yahoo.com. Once a story is received, I will post it in the order it is received. If you don’t see it right away, don’t fret as it will come up. If for some reason, I can’t or won’t use your story, I will email you directly. Otherwise you can assume it will see the light of this blog’s day.
• Anyone can submit stories as long as it’s about an In-Law. This started as a blog about mother-in-laws, but since any one of our in-laws can make us run screaming into the night, it’s only fair to share the “love”.
• All stories are posted anonymously. Even my own.
• Feel free to give your story a title. Otherwise you are leaving it up to me and my rather questionable talents.
• I have and will edit your stories for spelling, punctuation, etc., but not in content. Please do try to keep them short and “sweet”.

Thanks to those who have answered the call. I’ll be posting them later starting later this week.