The Grandmother Dances

My mother-in-law used to be a ballerina … 40 years ago. Because my kids have next to zero rhythm, my husband thought it would be nice if the MIL taught them how to dance. Instantly upon hearing this my stomach turns. Weekly sessions in my house, you say? Now my blood is boiling. I don’t want to see my MIL every six weeks as it is. Now weekly? No. No way. What the hell is she going to teach them? They just need a little rhythm. We can get them dance lessons in a real studio with other kids. And not with their 66 year old grandmother. Maybe I’m being mean, but this just seems ridiculous. And yes, I’m being selfish because I don’t want to see her every fucking week.

My husband said she would come over after her Bridge class on Wednesdays. She hasn’t signed up yet, but I looked up the class and it ends after 8pm. So that’s out. Which means if she were really determined she’d come over before her class. Which also means I don’t have to see her. And if that’s the case? Fine. Let her come. Just make sure she’s gone when I get home. I so don’t need THAT to look forward to at the end of my day.

This of course will not replace REAL dance lessons. I’m so annoyed by this and especially the fact that my husband didn’t even say, “hey, what do you think about my mom teaching the girls to dance?” Of course not. He knew I would say no f’ing way.

I’m going to place a bet now that either it won’t happen. Or it will happen for a very short time and die out. It better.

My feelings are hurt

When my girls were babies, my mother said she didn’t want to become her mother and lose interest in my sister and I when we were out of the toddler stage. But, my sister had babies and my babies started growing up and my mother lost interest. My feelings are deeply hurt. Because she lives so close to my sister (under 10 minutes) and “so far” from me (45 minutes), it’s a hassle for her to visit us. I asked her to come out and give me a sewing lesson and visit the girls and she came up with a last minute excuse to not come. Then, she was supposed to call me before she left on a two-week vacation, and never did. It’s trivial, I know. But I feel completely neglected. I’m sure she called my sister. I’m sure she stopped in to see her kids before she left on vacation. Is 45 minutes really that far to go? It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if we were 2 hours away. But, 45 minutes? Lame.

I’m going to a professional

It has actually come to this. I’ve made an appointment with a therapist. My first ever. I joked about needing to see a therapist to deal with my MIL, and never really thought I would do it. But, here I am. And I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. I’m excited to take control of the situation in my head, and I’m scared that it’s gotten so bad that I need professional help. Really, all I want is help getting to a place where she doesn’t ignite so much fury in me. Where it doesn’t affect my relationship with my husband. I want to accept her, learn how to deal with her, and move on.

I looked up the definition of narcissistic and it doesn’t quite fit her, although I think she has some tendencies. Rather, she’s more a passive-aggressive manipulator. To a tee. There are even books written about how to deal with people like that.

I decided I’m not going to tell my husband just yet. I don’t think he’ll fully understand that this is something I need to do for myself. Eventually, I’m sure, I’ll tell him. Because I will insist on dealing with her differently, and insist he deals with her differently. He’ll need to know why. I’m pretty sure he won’t accept that his mother is a passive-aggressive manipulator. He’s been under her thumb for so long – it’s like he’s brainwashed.

So, in a few days, I will have my first real therapy session. I just hope I don’t burst into tears the moment I open my mouth. It could happen.

MIL = Master in Manipulating

I’m so excited I figured it out – it’s perfect, isn’t it?

The favored grandchild…continued.

Somehow, in all the nonsense with my MIL, I became the bad guy. I’m not quite sure how, as I’ve bitched only here and to my closest friends about it. Yet, my husband was upset with me for putting him the middle. The middle of what? you ask. I’m just not sure. Since his mother created this mess, and he and I were on the same page about it being wrong, somehow I’ve put him in the middle. Because I told him he had to talk to her? Don’t know how that’s putting him in the middle. He suggested himself he would have to talk to her. I’m so at a loss for undertanding this situation, that I’m pretty f*ing angry at him right now. I mean, how does this happen? What did I do wrong? I got upset because my MIL favored my older daughter and had no intentions (as apparent to my husband and I) to treat my youngest daughter the same. I reminded my husband to speak with his mother. And that’s it. Like I said before, she is the only thing we fight about. Then, he had the nerve to say that over time her behavior has gotten better, and mine has not. That, I can agree with. She has gotten better, if you can imagine that she was actually worse. I have not, because I still hate her.

I would loved to have been on the conversation. Clearly, she manipulated him to make him feel guilty for having even considered that she would ever favor a grandchild. Whatever. We all know what’s real because I’m not making it up.

Can someone recommend a good therapist? I need more than this blog to keep me sane.

Update, twice, and more to come…

This is an update to the previous post. If you haven’t read it, go ahead. We’ll wait.

Soooo, I sent my wonderful mother-in-law an email and as expected it took her a few days to respond for two reasons.

 1. She’s a just not that computer literate. Besides who the hell is really sending her emails anyway?
2. A close friend passed away.

Nonetheless, she responded with this, pulled exactly from her email: “I was wondering why E kept asking me what K and I were doing on Wednesday. I agreed that doing something with K was only fair and will do so sometime, soon.”

And she signed off the email: “Sorry about the K confusion.

I can’t help but focus on that comma between “sometime” and “soon” – there is so much to be read into that. But I’d much rather make her disappear with a snap. Where is my fairy godmother when I need her?!

Anyway, I could no longer keep this from my husband. Thankfully, he is as enraged about it as I am. He was going to bring it up when she called him Monday to wish him a happy birthday, but she had spent the entire day at the funeral. Not appropriate, I agreed. Instead, he figured, he’d wait until Wednesday, today, the day she was supposed to take K out. I’m still waiting for that call to happen. Any bets? Any?

Fortunately, K doesn’t remember that she was supposed to go anywhere with the MIL. And at this point, I don’t even want her spending time with my children anyway. I’m just so frustrated that once again she manipulated the situation to suit her. Although, I would like to point out that, according to my husband, she didn’t specifically say Wednesday would be the day. She said another week, or next week, or something like that giving my husband the impression that it would be today. Either way, she truly is a master manipulator. And still a royal bitch.

Stayed tuned for the actual conversation…whenever that may be.

Edited to add:  It is Thursday. My husband did not speak to his mother as he said he would. No surprise there. What’s worse? He had the nerve to get pissed at me for asking him about it this morning. He said he was too busy yesterday. Bullshit. He said he was handling it. Um, really? You haven’t talked to her. He told me to leave him alone about it. Excuse me, asshole? This is my child too and we’re supposed to be on the same page here. Grow some fucking balls and speak to your narcissistic mother.

Really, she is the only thing we fight about. Bitch!

My MIL favors one grandchild

My mother in law is the only thing in my life that causes me true, blood boiling stress. I can honestly say freely that I H.A.T.E. the woman. I don’t say that word loosely or about anyone else.

So, what leads me to this hateful place…she told my husband that she wanted to take the girls shopping…separately. Immediately, I want to know why separately?! Well apparently, because she can’t handle both of them out shopping by herself. They are 5 and 7 fucking years old! They are not toddlers for fuck sake! Whatever. My husband is a god damn wimp when it comes to this shit and she talked her way into it. She agreed to pick up E after school on Wednesday, and would pick up K after school next Wednesday. Anyone want to place bets on K going shopping? I didn’t think so.

She brings E home promptly 10 minutes before bedtime. Yet, she still needed a shower. Thanks for once again being considerate of other peoples schedules, MIL! So I asked what they did because I saw no shopping bags. Apparently, “shopping’ was her way of having E point to things she would like for Christmas (because clearly the list we would provide her wasn’t enough) and what she thought K would like. And she’s going to do this again with K next week? Uh huh.

Because I can’t let it go, I ask E about her “shopping trip” the next morning. More specifically, did Grandy say anything about taking K shopping? Oh, just that she didn’t know when she was going to take her. If I was living in cartoon world, my face would have turned reddish purple and steam would have come out of my ears. Seething. Livid. I can summon those feelings right now just typing about it.

Seriously, what is wrong with this woman?

So, I sent her an email. In my passive agressive way, I mentioned that she should let us know what she buys for the girls because the things E pointed out are on the LIST that we share with everyone. Oh and K is really looking forward to her turn shopping with you on Wednesday.

I opted to NOT tell my husband, because when it happens that she doesn’t come to pick up K, I want to see his fresh reaction. Plus, she and the FIL are coming on Monday for dinner to celebrate the husband’s birthday – his 43rd birthday – of course, his mommy has to be there for it. God forbid. And I want to bring up the Wednesday shopping trip with K in front of everyone. And then, people, if she bows out, I will fucking lose it.

Except that I can’t. Because the girls will be there. And I have to be gracious. But I will say something. And it won’t be nice.

My sister and I

I am really hating my sister right now. I shouldn’t. What she’s doing isn’t hate-worthy, but it’s been building up and, well, here we are. The turning point was a couple of weeks ago at a family gathering. We were talking with two other family members and all of the sudden she started picking at my sweater, literally picking at it,  and saying for anyone in earshot, because she’s normally loud like that, “What’s up with the RATTY sweater?! It’s like a grandmother’s sweater. It’s full of pills!” Sure, the sweater could have used a shave, but there was nothing wrong with it unless you consider it wrong to be a little on the crunchy side of style – long, heavy knit, comfortable. I, of course, was embarrassed and appalled. I tried to blow it off at first but she just kept at it. Finally, I told her she was rude and I walked away. And yet, she still kept at it … from across the room! “What?! You would do the same thing to me!” she exclaims. And she’s right. I would pick on an ugly sweater. We’re sisters. We can do that. But not in front of a room full of people. “No”, I said, eyebrows raised, shaking my head. And she still kept at it. “Get over it!” she yelled. At this point, I’m seething. I’m so angry I don’t even know what to do with myself or where to go. I find my husband and quietly tell him what happened. I’m shaking. All I can feel is utter hatred for my sister at this point. I can hardly even be nice to her kids. I’m that angry.

I don’t speak with or look at her the rest of the time we are there. But I know I can’t leave without having said something to her. So I make a point to exchange about half a dozen words with her throughout the remainder of the event and even kiss her goodbye. And, at this point, in front of yet a larger group of people, some of which probably didn’t even know what was going on (but do now), she apologizes for hurting my feelings. All I can say is, thanks, and I’m embarassed yet again. It’s been about three weeks and I’m still having a hard time having a conversation with her.

In that time, she has continued to annoy me in other ways–an accumulation of annoyances, I suppose. Photography has been a hobby of mine for 20 years. I love taking pictures of kids. My sister just had a baby so I made a couple special trips to her house for “photo shoots”. That was about two months ago. She used the pictures on her Facebook page and in the baby announcement. But, earlier this week she took her kids to a Babys R Us to have their Christmas photos done. I loathe generic photo shops. There’s no character. No scene. The portraits resemble school photos. They say nothing about the people in them. I am insulted. I’m insulted because I go out of my way to take photos of her kids for her. I’m insulted because she spent $130 on meaningless portraits. And now, I’m not going to offer to photograph her kids if she’s content with fake Christmas tree backdrops.

Then, after spending that much money on boring photos, she sends out an email about wanting to have a Pollyanna with the adults for Christmas because they just don’t have any money, which is bullshit. Her husband is just cheap as hell.  There’s only 5 other adults in our family to buy for, including my mother. So I’m not going to get my mother a Christmas gift if I don’t pick her in the Pollyanna? Whatever.

I am so sick of my sister.

The 10-year Wedding Anniversary

My 10 year wedding anniversary is coming up. We’ll probably celebrate it with a long weekend away, possibly in the Hudson Valley in New York. I was hoping for diamonds, or somewhere tropical, but we’re trying to be conservative with our money. Anniversaries to me are meant to be shared between the couple. It’s our event and I don’t expect cards, gifts or really any acknowledgement from anyone other than my husband. And, when it’s our 25th anniversary, I won’t expect anything from our kids.

My mother-in-law expects that her anniversary be marked by her son. Of course. When it was her and my father-in-law’s 15th anniversary (nearly 10 years ago), my husband 1) forgot it, 2) didn’t realize what anniversary it was, and 3) was too pre-occupied with his brand-new bride. But she made him pay. How dare he forget their 15th wedding anniversary. It so happened to be around the time we were putting together our wedding album. She wanted a parents album, offered to pay for it too. But when my husband made that colossal mistake, she decided the album would make a nice anniversary gift…a $400 gift. My FIL knew nothing about this and I had to bite my lip to keep from saying, “Happy Anniversary!” when she opened it. I didn’t know better. I was young  then. My husband will never forget another one of their anniversaries again though.

So, I’m sure for some selfish reason, she feels the need to take us out to dinner to celebrate our milestone anniversary. Yes, I seem ungrateful. My husband says, “What’s the big deal? It’s our favorite restaurant. And she’s paying.”  I’m sure it will be fine. It’s just that she usually has an ulterior motive. She has a way of twisting situations to seem like she’s being the good person. Plus, any time I spend with her is too much time.

How about a Thank You?

My sister is utterly ungrateful. I have given her two years worth of clothing for her daughter, countless toys and lots of time photographing her children. And I have barely gotten a simple thank you. She’s borrowed my cradle, twice. I’ve just discovered her husband completely unassembled it because he thought it would be easier to transport. She asked for my nearly new sit and stand stroller, and when I brought it to her said she might not need it because someone else gave her a double stroller. But she’ll try it for a month and let me know. Entitlement is an ugly thing.

I took time out of my hectic weekend to visit her and her new baby to take photos of him. She never said thank you. I spent a decent amount of time touching up his skin from the infant acne, uploaded the best shots and never heard a word. I finally emailed her to find out if she saw them. “Yes, I did,” she wrote. “They’re good. Can I see the rest? ” Is all I got back. I wrote, “I spent a lot of time clearing up his skin. What do you think?” Her: “Looks a lot better in color, but the b&w are smudgy.” Still, no thank you. I told her I’d upload the rest when I had time. No reply. Bitch.

Well, I’m done with that. No more time. No more clothes. No more freebies for her. A simple thank you is all it takes. Be grateful when someone does something for you. It makes a world of difference