Not Cinderella. Not Friends With Mice.

A couple of years ago I was lucky enough to get pregnant after IVF. DH and I were visiting our in-laws (all of them, they live on the same street). I was hanging out with SIL and MIL, talking about where DH and I were staying. We were supposed to stay with the grandparents, but I noticed mouse droppings there on our previous visit and I didn’t want to stay there while I was pregnant. You know, mice. MICE.

MIL said (from the kitchen, she wouldn’t face me to have this discussion) that her parent’s feelings were more important than my concern.

SIL said the mice were a problem and we would be staying with her.

MIL said the grandparents were expecting us.

I said I’d clean it, wearing a special mask.

MIL said she’d rather we stayed with her. On her deck. Outside on her deck.

Later, DH defended her by saying he often slept there as a child. A pregnant child? I asked.

DH and I spent the first night at SIL’s, the next day cleaning (DEEP cleaning) the grandparents, and the next night sleeping with the kind of peacefulness that comes from being very tired and knowing that there is nowhere as clean as the place you clean when you are pregnant after IVF. The special mask left an imprint on my face that took hours to wear off.

Personally I would clean and mouse-proof my parent’s house because I love them and don’t want them to live in squalor or thank the person who would do so for me. MIL was very offended. She said it was no problem because everyone who lived there had mice. LIAR! The only way I would stay after that was if I could clean and stay in one room for my whole visit.

This all came back to me because they are visiting us soon. I was preparing DH’s office to be their room during their visit (we live in a small apartment). Usually they sleep in our room and we sleep in the office, but this time I didn’t feel like doing that. I tidied up a bit, vacuumed. I was about to mop… nah. We don’t have mice. If she doesn’t think it’s clean enough she can mop it herself or sleep on my balcony. I won’t even be angry about it!

You Don’t Get an Opinion!

I had some trouble getting my son to breastfeed. My husband mentioned to my FIL that we would be going to a lactation consultant the next day. His exact words to that were, “I don’t know why she needs to see a lactation consultant. There are two women walking around with tits in this house that could help.” Meaning my mom and MIL. First of all, my mom did her best to help me breastfeed. She used to be a L&D nurse and breastfed all four of her children, but she’s not a trained lactation consultant. She helped me the best she could. Second of all, MIL never breastfed any of her children. So she’s not someone I would ever take breastfeeding advice from. What does she know? Third of all, just because someone has a certain body part, doesn’t mean they know how to use it. Just like with FIL, he has an ass but he keeps using it wrong because his head is always in it.

When my husband and I later had the big confrontation that would either make or break our relationship with the in-laws, I told him that what he said was rude and disrespectful. He immediately got on his son for telling me what they had talked about. Sorry dude, but his loyalties lie with me, not you. When someone offends me, my husband will be offended too. FIL then turned it on me and said, “Well you’re the first woman I have known that didn’t go to her mother to learn how to breastfeed.” I don’t know how many new breastfeeding women he’s been around but if I were his wife, I would be concerned since, like I said before, she never breastfed. That was his way of cutting me down as a mother and a woman. I told him that my mother did try to help me quite a bit but because he wasn’t invited to my nursing sessions, he didn’t see my mom trying to physically put my breast in my son’s mouth.

When we went to the lactation consultant, we realized there was no way I could have breastfed without her help. My son didn’t know how to open his mouth wide enough and he needed a nipple shield for the first month until he learned to eat the right way. So really, there was NO way the “two women with tits” in my house could have helped me.

Not the Mama!

A little over a month ago, DH and I found out that I’m pregnant. We have been keeping the whole thing fairly quiet because I have had miscarriages before and I am considered high risk. However, we decided to tell immediate family members right away. We figured that no matter what happened, it would be good to have the support. So we told our parents and siblings. We told each of them to keep it absolutely quiet until we can make it to the end of the first trimester. Apparently this is driving my MIL insane (amongst many, many other things to do with this pregnancy). She calls our house once a week to ask DH when we’re planning on telling people. She desperately wants us to call and tell DH’s grandparents (her parents). These are two people who couldn’t be bothered to come to their first grandchild’s wedding, so what makes you think that they’re going to care about this?

Today the pressure to tell everyone got much worse. She called this morning to ask DH AGAIN when we’re planning on telling people. I’m glad he’s the one who talks to her because I’m not nearly as patient! He said again that we aren’t telling people until the end of February/beginning of March because that’s when we finish the first trimester. She wanted to know why and if we really feel like we need to wait that long. He patiently explained why we want to wait that long. Then she said, “Well I really want you to tell people on Valentine’s Day because I think it would be cute.” So DH patiently explained again that while that sounds like a lovely idea, we are waiting for very good reasons. She asked to speak to me. Then she told me that she wants me to tell people on Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t quite as polite as DH was about it. I told her that we have explained our reasons multiple times and that since it’s our baby, we will choose to tell people when we want to tell them.

DH and I went to run errands today. MIL called three more times while we were gone and left messages listing the reasons why we have to tell people on Valentine’s Day. We haven’t called her back. I can’t face it right now. It’s not her decision to make. It’s our baby and we will tell people when we are good and ready!! Let it go! I’m sure that this isn’t the last we’ve heard of this. I’m sure that every night this week through Thursday we will get phone calls about why she wants us to tell people on Valentine’s. Apparently since she wants us to tell them, we have to do it. How long until she realizes that she’s not the mom!?!?! It’s going to be a long nine months…

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This story was submitted a few days before Valentine’s Day. Sorry it didn’t get published until now, but I hope the Sane In-Law who sent it was able to stick to her guns.

Oh, Don’t Mind the Woman in Pain in the Corner

While I was in the hospital recovering from a c-section, we had mentioned to our in-laws that we didn’t want anyone visiting but family since I just wasn’t up for visitors. What with lying in a hospital bed bleeding and not being showered. The in-laws were of course inconsiderate and brought in their friends that they would be staying with. No one asked us or informed us that they would be coming. I had only met these people once.

When my husband told his father that what he did was rude, he said, “But they’re family. They’ve known you since you were a baby.” My husband had to remind my hardheaded FIL that I was the one in the hospital bed, not him. It was up to me who visited and who didn’t.

When I got home from the hospital, MIL was in my kitchen making all of her son’s favorite foods. (Including gassy foods that new breastfeeding mothers shouldn’t eat.) Hello?! I am the one who just had surgery, is in pain and trying to learn how to breastfeed. How about accommodating me and not your son who is feeling fine.

Get Real!

My husband is infertile because of cancer treatments he had as a child, and we are currently pursuing international adoption to build our family.  While talking excitedly about our adoption, MIL quips, “Well, I’m sure glad I was able to have at least some real grandchildren.”

Um, listen Bitch, my kids will be your REAL grandchildren.  They aren’t made of card board!  And if your attitude doesn’t change real soon, you will NEVER interact with them:  I will make sure of that!

Good Thing We Had Nothing To Hide

When my son was born, my in-laws came out to be with us for two weeks. They invited themselves. My mom was only coming to stay for a week. The in-laws stayed at our house until my mom got there. It was understood that when she got there, the in-laws would go stay with friends they had in town. The in-laws ended up coming into town the day before I went into labor. My mom flew in while I started labor.

The next two nights my husband and I stayed at the hospital. The first night my mom stayed in our room while my in-laws stayed unwanted in our guest room. This pissed me off because my mom wasn’t able to unpack. The second night she stayed with me and my husband at the hospital.

When we got home the next day, it was very evident that the in-laws had been snooping in our bedroom. My husband had five baby pictures of himself in a baggie on our closet shelf. The only ones he owned. A couple weeks later we went to get the pictures so we could compare our new son with my husband as a baby. The only thing we could find was the empty baggie. Why they didn’t take the baggie too is beyond me. Leaving it only proved that they stole the pictures. His mom is like a baby picture Nazi. She reluctantly handed some over when he asked for few a couple years ago. Apparently she wanted them back.

Send Your Stories!

I’m down to just a couple submissions left about your in-laws so it’s time to for an open call on your stories about those crazy In-Laws. It can be about your brother-in-law, sister-in-law, father-in-law and of course the every popular mother-in-law!

Keep your stories short and “sweet”, please, and if you have a title, make sure to include that as well or it will be subject to my limited imagination.

Stories (printed anonymously) can be sent to inlawssuck@yahoo.com.

Do it now. You know you want to.

Open Letter to the MIL

You have done it again. You ask us to pick something up for you with your money and it isn’t quite what you like…then I send a reminder and you ask to remind you some other time.  Oh, I am sorry MIL; did I forget I was supposed to schedule my life around you?!

I never could figure out what your deal is…now I get it.  If it isn’t about you – it doesn’t matter, unless it is about the two BIL’s, then it REALLY matters.  It took me a long time to realize it, but I guess I married the one that you don’t really care about…Well, lady, here is a news flash for you:  the way you have been treating us lately has made the feeling become mutual.  

I used to think that you cared; now I just realized that you were just biding your time until your “real” sons could come live at home again.  Keep it up, you will be out completely – because, see, your son – my DH is seeing what you are becoming:  a bitter old hag. 

I am so tired, I don’t know if I can handle your criticism with my mouth closed anymore.  So sorry…I guess that is my fault too!

Haircut

What is it about MILs and haircuts?

Every time I go back to the States, I get a haircut at my husband’s barber’s. Every time, my MIL, she offers to pay for me to get my haircut somewhere else. It makes me feel like she hates my hair. Once when I had a job interview, she told me not to wear my hair ’spiky’. At 35 I think I can do my own hair, thanks.

One time I took her up on her offer. We went to Supercuts, where she wanted a particular hairdresser to do our hair. She went first, getting a cut and colour. This took over an hour.

FIL called to see what the hold up was. He suggested I get some dinner at the fast food joint next door.

Then MIL realised SIL had just enough time for a cut before her baseball game. SIL rushed over, upset that she couldn’t help her DH get her twins (age 4) ready for the game. She saw me in the waiting area and paused.

Mom just called… you’re not still waiting, are you?

Yup.

She started to apologise but really, we both know MIL. So SIL got a cut, and almost 3 hours after arriving so did I. When we got back FIL apologised. MIL said it was really a treat for me because a) I’m so patient and b) I got to read the Fall issue of Vogue, which you can’t get in Canada.

I did get to read a 600 page issue of Vogue, as a matter of fact. My haircut? He refused to take off as much as I wanted. I guess I forgot that MIL hates it that I wear my hair boy-short. Joke’s on me!

I’ve grown out my hair. This summer when I go back, I’m getting a boy-cut and donating my hair. I’ll do it in honour of my MIL.

She Took Offense to Our Grief

My mother-in-law died this past May a week before Mother’s Day. By Father’s Day, another woman was sleeping with my FIL in her bed, and by September they were married.  My FIL couldn’t be alone, so he apparently hitched a ride with the first woman willing to give him what my MIL couldn’t in her last years of life (she had been ill for some time).  I loved my MIL dearly and was always thankful for the great relationship I had with her.

This past weekend my husband and I visited my FIL’s house for the first time since Father’s Day. We have kept our distance because we’re not really happy about the marriage. In spite of my FIL’s assurances his quick marriage to this other woman in no way meant he wished to forget my husband’s mother, imagine our shock when we walked into a house that looked nothing like the house we last visited in June.  They had completely gutted and remodeled the place.  The only thing left of my MIL was the curio clock that hung on the wall.

We knew they had remodeled, but we had no idea the house would look so completely different.  Our reaction was an emotional one and we had to leave the room for a moment to collect ourselves.  There were some tears and my FIL followed us to talk us through it.

A few days later, a conversation with my SIL revealed the new wife was offended by our reaction to the house.  She just couldn’t understand why we were so upset.

Listen lady, if you could see past your own selfishness for a moment, you’d be able to see our reaction had everything to do with the woman whose memory you effectively erased from the house and NOT your choice of kitchen cabinetry

Ignorant bitch.