I want a new treadmill.

I escaped a visit with the MIL yesterday. Because she wasn’t around for the hubs birthday, she wanted to see him Sunday. I prefer they come for dinner so I can avoid her while I cook in the kitchen, or even walk the dog. She decided brunch at their country club was better. It’s not. I’d have to “dress up”. I told my husband to have fun, but I wasn’t going. I simply do not need to attend every get together.

When I asked if he got their Christmas lists, he laughed and said he’d rather talk about it over cocktails. Well, now I need to know because that means his mother was her bitchy, c$%&* self. Turns out we know what she wants. I said, the treadmill?! Are you fucking kidding me?!

Of course, this comes up when I’m not around. She would NEVER be that tacky in front of me.

So the hubs asks my FIL if the girls really broke the treadmill and he can’t fix it. The FIL says, I can fix it.

The MIL admits, I want a new treadmill.

Then she reminds the hubs that he was supposed to get her a nice (read: expensive) golf club for her birthday. But he never did. He reminds her that she was supposed to pick one out and never did.

Really? We’re keeping tabs on gifts? YOU’RE A GROWN FUCKING WOMAN. Get over yourself!

So she decides that this new treadmill we’re going to get for her will be both birthday and Christmas gift.

Doesn’t this type of gift seem more appropriate from your husband? And not your only son who has his own family and bills to pay for?

While hubs SHOULD HAVE said No, and you’re fucking ridiculous! He, at least, said we weren’t upgrading it. Manual for a manual. Bitch.

I did a quick search for manual treadmills, because that’s what the girls supposedly broke, and found that most are under $200. I copied a link to one and sent it off to my husband, telling him I hoped one of these days he would tell her she’s ridiculous and say no. I also wrote this: Kind of reminds me of the time we had to buy her a $400 photo album because you forgot their 15th wedding anniversary. And the expensive do-over dinner for her milestone birthday because we didn’t do enough the first time around.

But I thought better of it and deleted it. I can only push so far when it comes to his mother. He knows she’s a crazy bitch, but she’s still his mother.

 

I really fucking hate her.

They broke it, you pay

It only takes a short time before the MIL acts like a fucking lunatic. The hubs isn’t surprised and thinks that by now I shouldn’t be either, but I am. I just don’t know anyone else like her. For instance, I chopped off about 9 inches of my hair, and she said nothing. NOT A THING. It’s kind of hard to ignore when a person makes a dramatic change like that. But she did.

Now, to be fair, I had not seen her for at least two months. She realizes that she’s been forgetting things, so I think she’s not sure if she already saw my short hair. I did have short hair about 6 years ago. But maybe she thinks she saw it over the summer and already said something and didn’t want to say something again for fear of sounding like she’s getting Alzheimer’s, which she could very well have (for real). I know that sounds convoluted. And it is. But we’re talking about the MIL. Regardless, I chopped off my hair. I got a lot of great compliments. I love it. And she’s literally the ONLY person to say NOTHING. Bitch? Yeah.

Okay, then today. On Thanksgiving. We’re visiting family, of course. And she pulls up next to the hubs saying she needs to talk to him. I hear something about the treadmill and figure she needs help moving it. So I tune her out, because this is the hubs future. Sucks for him.

I was wrong. Turns out when she watched our kids all day when they had off on Election Day, they were playing on her manual treadmill and somehow jammed it. Of course, they did. She said they would try to fix it, but if they couldn’t, would we contribute to repairing/replacing it.

WHAT?

I’m sorry. If my kids, your grandchildren, are in YOUR responsibility and they are doing something which they shouldn’t be doing because you aren’t WATCHING THEM  – and something gets broken? It’s not my responsibility to pay for it. NO FUCKING WAY

No.

And I can’t get past the fact that she actually asked – with a straight face. They are your ONLY grandchildren.

Not human this woman.

Randoms

A couple things of note:

I congratulate myself for getting the heck out of dodge when my MIL came over on Sunday to give the girls their Valentine’s Day (crap) gifts. After overindulging in her presence over the holidays, I like to go on hiatus until K’s birthday in April. She showed up, I exited with the dog for an hour long power walk. Double win for me! And, it was the only time in the 5 months since we’ve gotten the dog that I was ever so thankful for her. My built in escape plan!

Also, I am stressing over something I did, but wasn’t wrong to do.

K came home from school one day last week and mentioned casually that some kids on the bus were “hitting, punching and pinching” her and wouldn’t stop. I know the kids’ parents and was going to reach out to them. But, because I didn’t want things to get weird between us – I do like them – I decided the best approach would be to let the school counselor know – that’s what she’s there for. However, because it was “physical” she had to report it to the principal.

Now, I’m assuming the parents were alerted, and wondering, what next? Are they going to say something to me? I also wrote a post about it on my other blog. The one family knows about my blog from a year or so ago, and I’m wondering if they read it and shared it with the other family. To make things more stressful, I had already invited the women to a party I’m having in March and neither have responded yet.

I hate feeling insecure.

It’s the holidays and, surprise, the MIL is back!

Of course, the holidays wouldn’t be quite the same if my MIL wasn’t a raving lunatic. Her need to be medicated is seriously approaching DEFCON 1.

It’s Christmas and we’re at the in-laws. The girls are unwrapping their gifts, and much to E’s dismay she unwraps a present already gifted to her from Santa. I give her the look and she plays it off amazingly well for an 8 year old. We will discretely return it and get something else on our own. But then she unwrapped another, also a gift from Santa. This time it didn’t go unnoticed. The hubs saw it and spoke up. Fucker!

Of course, MIL immediately suggests that “Santa” must have screwed up. Well Santa did screw up. Because Santa and the MIL didn’t talk once about what gifts were being bought for the girls. I don’t know about you, but I like to have approval rights on the toys to avoid adding to the junk pile in the playroom. She then immediately came up with the brilliant idea of taking E on a shopping trip to choose replacements. Surprise! Another shopping trip that doesn’t include K. How well that worked out for her.

I tell her to call me so we can arrange a time since I am off this week. She calls the hubs. Apparently, she thought we were all off. Alzheimers! She’ll pick E up at noon.

Oh no she won’t. She wants to take E to lunch, and that’s not fair to K. I’m not letting that happen. Sorry.

She calls the hubs to confirm the time. I guess she wasn’t feeling well the day before because the hubs asked her how she was feeling and her mopey, woe-is-me reply, “Borderline.”

Oh for fuck sake!

So the hubs says she doesn’t have to take E shopping today. It can wait.

Silence. Silence. Silence.

Silence. Silence. Silence.

Hello? Hello? Are you still there?

The MIL is  crying. Yep.

sniff sniff “I can’t let my granddaughter down again.” sniff sniff

Are you fucking kidding ME?!

She arrives just 5 minutes late. With a gift box. She says her woe-is-me hellos and hands me the box.

“I’m not going to keep this.”

Ok, what is it?

It’s the sweater we gave her.

“It’s not long, or knit.”

Seriously. There was no better way for her to say that she didn’t like the sweater? Not a “it’s not really what I was looking for”. No mincing words with her. Fuck her!

Ok, then I guess I can return it and get you something more along the lines of what you were looking for?

“No, I’ll just shop myself and you can contribute whatever you want towards it.”

ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha really?

Really?

I just looked at her. Dumbfounded.

“Well, I’m trying to be diplomatic here.”

What? Are you fucking insane? Diplomatic would have been to say it wasn’t what you were looking for. Sticking the box in my hand and saying you’re not keeping it is about as fucking rude and un-diplomatic as anyone can get. You.Are.A.Fucking.Lunatic.

Omygod I hate this woman. So much.

I want the piece of cake with my name on it

As most holidays for us, there is no relaxing. Except maybe for a couple hours in the morning. Then, we’re running around trying to get ready to host my family for Father’s Day. The MIL and FIL were also coming. I tried talking my husband into going to his parents, I’ll deal with my family. Instead, he chose to work the grill. In 95 degree weather.

In the food planning chaos, as my aunt was talking about bringing a birthday cake for my stepmother, grandfather and another Aunt whose birthdays were within the last few days, it occurred to me that MILs name should probably be on the cake as well. Ugh.

I called my Aunt to see what she could do. The cake was already ordered and no doubt made and ready to be picked up. Fortunately, they were able to squeeze the MILs name. It looked squeezed in, but whatever. Can you imagine if her name wasn’t on it?

Of course, did the MIL thank us, or anyone for including her? Hell fucking no. And she sure as hell took the piece of cake home that had her name on it.

I swear to you. She actually requested it. Like a fucking 6 year old.

Another freaking birthday – will they not end?

As if we could forget, the MIL has announced that her birthday is fast approaching. Wasn’t it just a few months ago that we celebrated it? Jesus! For someone who is aging, past the retirement age, I’m not quite sure why she feels such a strong need to celebrate. But I suppose it’s not the birthday celebrating she cares about. It’s celebrating HER. I’ve never in my life known anyone so self-important or self centered.

She calls my hubby, “You know, my birthday is coming.”

No-fucking-shit.

“Well, I’ve never been to insert very expensive restaurant here and R (FIL) and I are going. I’d love it if you guys could join us.” (note: Doesn’t want to celebrate birthday at home with grandchildren. Bitch.)

Don’t you love the backhanded, passive aggressive way she manipulates the situation? She pulled this shit on her milestone birthday last year. I wish my husband would grow a pair when it came to dealing with her bullshit! This is how I want the conversation to go.

“Yes, mother. I know your birthday is coming. You remind me every fucking year. Aren’t you getting a little too old to continue making a big deal out of it. You want to go WHERE? You do realize that I may not have a job in a few months and spending that kind of money is a little outrageous right now. Not to mention that we have to pay for a babysitter since you’re picking a restaurant that isn’t appropriate for kids. How about you get over yourself. And when you do we’ll be happy to celebrate over burgers and cake.”

And that’s the polite version.

I hate summer because I have to see her so often in such a short amount of time. I’m talking like every other fucking week. The FILs birthday dinner. E’s birthday dinner. E’s birthday party. Father’s Day. Her birthday. The SnoreFest (a.k.a. her boring family summer gathering that everyone loathes but her).

I requested from my husband last night that after the SnoreFest, we take a break from his mother, or at least I get a break from her. I’m on overload just thinking about it.

The Mothers are coming together

It’s that time. The time of the family events. Which means my mother and the MIL will cross paths. At my house. They haven’t been together in over a year and a half. On purpose. I can’t deal with the tension.

But, that last time they were together? It actually went well. I wasn’t there. I was stuck in a hurricane in the British Virgin Islands. And everyone was taking turns watching the girls. MIL went to my mother’s house to pick up the girls. My mother said reported back that she was a “normal human”.

Last year, the hubs talked to his mother about the situation, how she makes it impossible to be around her and it’s affecting family get togethers. She accused my mother of being rude to her at a bridal or baby shower of mine. That was 8 to 10 years ago. She’s been holding a grudge ever since. Except now, after the kid transfer that went so well, she’s finally ready to move on and put the past behind her.

But is my mother?

She accuses my MIL of being rude to her at one of my showers.

Will it ever end?

My daughter’s eighth birthday party is this Saturday. I invited my mother because she has a longer drive so it’s easier for her to come on a weekend. MIL lives just 20 minutes away so she typically comes to celebrate on the actual birthday since the last few years that’s fallen on a week day. It’s worked out great. My mom likes to help at the parties. MIL would just sit in her queen throne.

Except this year, E invited MIL to the party. And MIL “can’t let her granddaughter down”. God forbid.

The hubs let me know with a casual, “We have a situation.” How’d I know it had to do with his mother?

My response? Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’m not dealing with 20 kids + the tension of the mothers. I’m not doing it.

Then he reminded me of the conversation he had with her and how she was ready to act human, all the time. How can we tell her she’s not welcome when we’ve asked her to behave and she’s agreed to it?

Fine then.

I called my mother to give her fair warning. MIL will be here. She’s promised to be nice. Put on a smile. Make a great fake effort.

Then so will my mom.

And if she’s a bitch then I’ll just ignore her, she said.

Fucking MIL.

I can’t even stand her presence. She puts me on edge just by being in the same GD room. Now I have to have her gloom and doom hanging over my daughter’s party.

What’s worse? Our friends that come will stay for a cookout after all the kids leave. But she likes to hang and chat with the hubs’ friends. Someone’s going to have to kick her ass to the curb.

Did I mention she was also coming for dinner on my daughter’s birthday tomorrow. That’s right. Two fun filled get togethers in one week with MIL.

Fuck me.

Dealing with Passive Aggressive People aka the MIL

In case you are here because you too have a Monster in Law who is utterly painful, then you may benefit from a little research: How to Deal with a Passive Aggressive Person. This description is my MIL to a tee. And from what I’ve read before, if you want to change someone, you have to change how you are around that person. Happy reading!

The mind goes slowly, but it goes…

The bridge class starts tomorrow and there has been no word of dance lessons. I’m afraid to bring it up. I don’t want to remind anyone about the ridiculous idea to have the MIL teach my kids to dance. I’m just crossing my fingers it all goes away.

On another note, the MIL is losing her mind. Ever so slowly, her memory is going. I’ve noticed it a couple of years ago and mentioned it to my husband then. Now, the MIL is noticing it, thus the bridge class and also daily crossword puzzles. Exercise for mind, I suppose.

If there’s ever a good reason to have more than one child, it’s to share the burden of the aging parent. The MIL will be my husband’s sole responsibility. It won’t go well. She has a tendency to be a baby. And my husband’s guilt for Idon’tknowwhat will insure he caters to her. Can anyone say, divorce? I can feel it in my bones.

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.