My husband’s mother, she is a saint.
She retired 2 years ago, and decided to join the Peace Corps. She sold her home, divided all her worldly possessions amongst family and friends, and hopped on a plane to The Flying Spaghetti Monster only knows where in Africa to do things involving, I can only assume, Peace. Also, Corps.
Her oldest grandchild was almost 15 when she left and her youngest was 5 months old. We had, only 3 weeks before, packed up everything we owned and moved to Vancouver, so the transition was easy for everyone. My boys have missed her more than I think any of us thought they would. She is, truth be told, an amazing, attentive, loving, doting grandmother.
And, oh yeah, I kind of hate her guts.
I mean, I am fucking her son and all, and that just never plays into a relationship very well. Add to that the fact that I am the world’s most terrible mother, a pathetic excuse for a wife, and don’t forget that my carelessness and fertility ruined her son’s chance at a successful, real life. We were doomed from the start.
You can imagine how much I have suffered since the day she moved to Africa, how sad and lonely I have been, how I have pined away for her from afar. You can only imagine the sheer joy I felt in my heart when I heard that she was leaving the Corps and moving back to Denver. Where none of her grandchildren live. Where none of her children live. Where her sisters that she sort of hates live.
Bygones.
A few months ago, before she decided to come back for good, she emailed to say she was visiting for 3of3′s birthday. Which is, honestly, awesome. The kid needs to meet her gramma already. We got each other on the phone one day soon after the email came and she asked me to research hotels in my neighborhood. I said, “You know the kids aren’t going to be okay with you staying in a hotel” to which she replied, “Mr Lady, you? Me? Two weeks? REALLY?” to which I replied, “I’ll get back to you on the hotels.”
She’s been stateside for a week, a week and a half now? I get an email last night. Here it is:
I’ve gotten my tickets and will be on your doorstep, or least at your airport, very soon. I will arrive in Vancouver on Sept. 17 at (doesn’t matter o’clock) on a (airline) flight originating in (American city) and will leave Vancouver on Oct. 3 at (not really anyone’s concern o’clock).
Here is where I fucked up, bigtime. Here is where you should learn from my mistakes. Instead of my follow-up email saying, as it should have, “So, do you still need hotel info or did you already book one?” my dumb-ass, passive argressive, can’t even stand up to a 65 year old woman because she scares the fucking shit out of me self asked:
What’s the plan while you are here? Are you staying with us?
Yeah, you know exactly what the response was:
I leave it to you. I remember from our last conversation about my coming that you felt the kids wouldn’t have it any other way. Mostly, I just want it to be easy and fun…and cheap, of course. So, whatever works. Love, (Clever mother in law who just dumped the Bitch Card squarely in my lap)
Fuck. Me. Either I give up all hopes of sanity for two and a half weeks, find some uppers or some serious downers to swallow for a few weeks, and let her stay in my house where we don’t have a spare bed, a spare room, or a spare minute, where it would just be me and her and the baby big girl all day, every day because her son works no less than 70 hours a week and the boys are in school 8 hours a day, or I make a poor woman who just spent two years in Africa spend what would clearly be the last few dimes in her retirement fund to stay in a hotel where she’d miss some of the only hours she’s had with her grandchildren in two years because I am selfish and don’t care about anyone but myself and am clearly no more fit to raise these children than I was before she left.
All of this? Is because I am a pussy. Is because, though I can write fucking odes to carbohydrates, I cannot properly compose one 10 word email to someone who already knows she should be getting a damn hotel room. Is because I left the fucking door wide open, man.
I have two living, breathing, fully existent and sentient parents, and I don’t speak ONE WORD to them. There’s a reason for that. Why I have to be the one to deal with his mother, I’ll never understand. I’ve never made anyone talk to my mother, let alone try to negotiate with her.
Someone, anyone, get me out of this mess. Or mail me some Valium, and fast.
Tagged with: mother in law coming to visit
Alison
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 13:33I am a pussy who caves on everything that has anything to do with me. I’m really good at sticking up/mediating for other people though. I feel your pain.
Alison
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 13:37I have no idea where that moderation thing came from – I didn’t type it…
motherbumper
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 13:43This is exactly what my nightmares are about. I’m so sorry.
motherbumpers last blog post..on the road: last stop of the tour
erika
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 14:08I can relate to the stress and conflicts with the MIL, but isn’t it sad to think of our kids feeling this way about us when we are older? I have a rough time w/family, as well, but I try to stay positive overall with the hopes that by setting an example, my kids will some day follow.
Kori
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 14:09Reason number #632 that I should be grateful I am single and don’t have to deal with this. My first MIL would not piss on me were I on fire, and would like to set the fire herself. She is also the one who pulled the you-ruined-my-dear-son’s-life-please-abort-the baby trick, yet now, 15.5 years later has decided that she loves her sweet granddaughter so much that she would like to raise he, and also 15.5 years later her lovely son is still working at McDonald’s.
Koris last blog post..What Kind of Shit IS This?
Kori
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 14:16I forgot that I was supposed to be giving you advice and instead tried to make this all about me. But since I have none, I guess it works out well for both of us.
Koris last blog post..What Kind of Shit IS This?
Catherine
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 15:06maybe someone else said it? Let her stay at your house. Spend Friday afternoon to Sunday evening in a hotel with your husband. Let her be the dotting grandmother. Get yourself some R&R. And while the boys are in school? Let her take care of the baby and you go to the bookstore/coffee shop/library/porn store – wherever you like to unwind. Look at it like this: it’s a parenting break for you! She’ll think she saved the day. You get some alone time with Mr Mr Lady.
Zak
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 15:22Go back to work during the day and make her watch the baby and pick the kids up from school.
And then quit when she leaves.
Zaks last blog post..Untitled
MIQuilter
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 15:33I’m sorry – that doesn’t sound like fun at all…. just remember – pound for pound you need equal parts of lime to really get rid of the body……..
Gnilleps
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 15:37LOL… only you.
So let her know (or have Donor do it) that while you and the kids would LOVE to have her over, w/o a bed and a room to put her in, 2 weeks is too long to have her on a couch.
You should also get her the room and have it ready when you pick her up.
(Funnie you have no problem cutting people str8 out of your life, but asking someone to get a hotel so your family of FIVE can lead normal lives… =) ) Love Jew….
jordan
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 17:28Sorry, flushed the vitamin v. If feeling vindictive, try a hostel.
jordans last blog post..The I-Liff (or, what most couples need)
daysgoby
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 18:46I understand. Want to come to Nova Scotia and I’ll come there? My mother is coming to visit in a week, staying for a week, in my (teeny) house. With my step-father. And her (completely opposite) political/social/parental/religious views.
My advice?
DRINK HEAVILY. She already hates you, adding ‘lush’ to the list of personality defects won’t matter much….
daysgobys last blog post..eeeeyah!!!! and aaaaaaah…..
LaskiGal
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 18:50This is an excellent post . . . duh. And the comments are nearly as excellent!!!
I was so busy being entertained, I forgot what I was gonna say.
Outside of burning the house down, paying for a room yourself and saying that “Wow, look what we won for two weeks,” inviting a homeless guy to come and live with you thus taking up any extra room, catching a nasty “germ” that requires the entire family be quarantined, having very loud and obnoxious “happy time” with the hubs hoping that she’ll be mortified and offer to leave, and, well, moving and not telling her where . . . I’d say you’re screwed.
But in only two weeks, you’ll be unscrewed . . . yay for that!
LaskiGals last blog post..Wordless Wednesday: All By Myself
Jan
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 20:11When my inlaws are in town, I eat old-people food and I watch Dr. Phil.
Sorry.
Just accept that she’s there to see the kids and roll with it.
janethesane
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 20:36Put on your big girl panties and deal. You’ll be fine. It could be a lot worse and besides, it is your own fault. I am sure, more than anything, she just wants to see the kids.
Once upon a time, janethesane wrote..Germs – the other stranger danger
mn
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 20:42sometimes you really lose me. i am really not sure what you are saying, MIL good/ MIL bad…agh. help. i am confused.
i think the anxiety before the storm is always the worst. you will find you will have fun. just keep a busy schedule.
Kimmelin
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 20:52What is it with the whole In-Law family thing? I think I’ve only met two or three people TOPS who can actually, honestly claim to love and adore their spouse’s side of the family. How does it pan out that way when you choose to marry someone from that very same blood line and (hopefully) get along with them? Far as I can tell…it’s a frighteningly unsolveable mystery.
Good luck! Keep us posted…
Once upon a time, Kimmelin wrote..Lego Cross Dressers?
Ashley
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 21:07I have an idea. However, it’d require infesting your house with bedbugs, fleas, or lice. Any of which would be sure to work.
Or, visit the pet store and buy some mice. Count them, bring them home, and dump them in the room she’ll be sleeping in. When she leaves, just set out a jar standing up with something for them to climb on to get in and some food in the jar…and bam…you caught most of them. For the rest? Buy a cat.
Once upon a time, Ashley wrote..Please let me interrupt myself for a brief moment…
raino
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 21:24I really have no ideas or anything to add but just wanted to send my condolences. Any of the ideas listed in the comments above would work I’m sure. But just drink drink drink alote.
Once upon a time, raino wrote..Good / Bad
Kat
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 21:27I got nothing, having the world’s nicest mother-in-law myself. Seriously, I do. When we buy a house next year I’m making sure that we have a mother-in-law suite for her, that’s how awesome she is.
None of this is helping you, I know. Just smack me.
Once upon a time, Kat wrote..Does This Blog Make Me Look Fat?
rebecca
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 21:53Take heart, MIL and I are friends – AFTER 20 YEARS OF BITTER FIGHTING. It can happen to you too. One day, I might have a DIL. Gives me the heebs.
Once upon a time, rebecca wrote..School Houses Rock!
Jesse
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 22:26I have a “Monster-In-Law”. She flys into town every other year (thank *GOD* she lives 13 hours (by plane) away) and turns our flipping lives upside down.
All I know is that MIL visits are a really good time to schedule elective surgery.
Once upon a time, Jesse wrote..My Autism is showing..
Leslie Dillinger
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 22:30This is an excellent post and the comments are, I agree, fantastic. Some great suggestions. But here’s what: I need some serious help here in Seattle. Like, probably during the ENTIRE TIME your MIL is in BC. So could you just, like, come down here and kick it with me?
(In all seriousness, you can SO come down here. Ask MIL if she can watch the kids because you would love to spend some quality time with your pal Leslie. Who desperately needs you. Umm, because she’s having a midlife crisis. Also, like, you could be “researching career options for Josh in the States” as a front. Pretend I’m still a recruiter.)
Once upon a time, Leslie Dillinger wrote..
Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 23:11I have no advice but the comments are great! It seems In Laws are a real hot button. I get along with mine. We hardly ever see my husband’s parents. I agree with everyone else, find somewhere you need to be ang give the kids their own special bonding time.
Once upon a time, Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy wrote..Wordless Wednesday #14 – The View at Happy Hour
apathy lounge
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 23:17You got played. But you know that, no?
Once upon a time, apathy lounge wrote..It’s the most awful-est time of the year: Part Deux
tiff
Wednesday, 10 September, 2008 at 23:43I hate that passive aggressive crap. My MIL is great at that too and I am a weakling. I hate it and I have no advice. You know you are stuck with her for two weeks, don’t you?
I hear you can buy Midazolam over the internet, that way, you won’t remember a thing.
Once upon a time, tiff wrote..Hospital day 2
busydad
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 1:31argh. I hate when I spend minutes crafting the perfect comment only to have the site crash when I hit submit! Ok, trying hard to reconstruct what I just said because it was damn good advice. But I am buzzed right now, so forgive…
Book a hotel, but YOU stay in it. Tell MIL that you’d love for her to stay and enjoy her grandkids as much as possible, but there’s just not enough room for her to stay comfortably, so you are giving her the master bedroom while you and the donor stay in the hotel. This way you can all be together at dinnertime and whatnot, but come bed time, you two go to the hotel. And since you will have roped MIL into some free babysitting, you can go out and enjoy a little kid-free time as well. Win win win.
Once upon a time, busydad wrote..OK, If You Throw in Beer and Good Company
Zoeyjane
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 3:21Oh dude. Totally go the bedbug route. I mean, tell her there’s bedbugs. She won’t be able to psychologically wrap her brain around sleeping or not itching for the rest of her life, after you describe bites and communicability and such with her. Seriously, you’re welcome to a picture of Iso’s ass, covered in bites, if you think you’d need proof.
Then that’s like a double-shot: she doesn’t stay there AND she gets a traumatized.
Kelley
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 6:40Oh Babe. How I would love to bitch about the horrible witch that was my MIL. She stayed with us for THREE MONTHS. I went insane.
And you know what? I was relieved when she died. That is how freaking horrible I am.
I am here for you to vent to if you need it. Just email me with ‘you wouldn’t believe it’ as the subject line.
Tiaras & Tantrums
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 8:20BOOK.THE.HOTEL
ON.YOUR.CREDIT.CARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jen
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 10:57Perhaps you can put a tent up in the backyard and tell the boys that it would be a camping adventure with their Peace Corps grandmother??
Dude….cannot imagine 2 weeks of my MIL in my home and I have a spare room.
Tara R.
Thursday, 11 September, 2008 at 15:06You know, Florida is about as far away from Vancouver as you can get and still be in North America. With the college kid away at school WE have a spare bed… for you, not the MIL. Think about it…. near the beach, still 80 degree weather, Ike will be gone by this weekend. Hmmmm?
Once upon a time, Tara R. wrote..Pray for Texas, and remember Baton Rouge
Ree
Friday, 12 September, 2008 at 5:52oh mah holy hell, I’m sure that somewhere up there in that slew of comments is someone saying, “Let her stay for the first week and then move her to a hotel for the second.”
Because dude. She knows you two can’t deal for two weeks – she said it, right?
Once upon a time, Ree wrote..Seven Years Ago
Megryansmom
Friday, 12 September, 2008 at 11:54I’m a MIL and my DIL hates me too, but whatever, her loss. Anyway I suggest you get up every morning and leave, you can even leave your daughter with granny, to bond. Let her know what time the boys arrive home and that you’ll be home after that. Head to a bar, get good and stinking drunk and then the time you will have to deal with MIL at least you’ll be numb and euphoric. Two and half weeks can do some serious liver damge hehehe
Once upon a time, Megryansmom wrote..Is It Just Me?
Jaina
Friday, 12 September, 2008 at 15:50Good luck! You can totally do it.
Once upon a time, Jaina wrote..Prayer Request
jennydecki
Friday, 12 September, 2008 at 16:35For future reference, making assumptions is just as easy as being passive aggressive.
Future email responses should read,
“MIL,
I told the kids about your arrival date and time and they are so excited! As soon as you get booked into the _____, please call so we can come over and have a family dinner at the hotel.
The kids are also excited about the hotel having a pool. They can play while you relax and you still get to spend time with them and interact.
The airport shuttle to take you to ________ Hotel is at gate 5.
Looking forward to your call,
Mr. Lady”
I’m going to make an AWESOME mother-in-law someday. By that I mean I will be satan.
(Question: did you get busted for not having the commentluv linkback? You totally changed the text in there….)
Once upon a time, jennydecki wrote..I Feel So Rejected (mostly because I was rejected)
April
Saturday, 13 September, 2008 at 9:57OK, what is that? I remember when I was married being the one to deal with the in-laws. Why can’t men deal with their own family members?
Good luck.
Once upon a time, April wrote..Happy Blogiversary to Me!
Nola
Saturday, 13 September, 2008 at 11:00Oy. Vay. Is there a way to let her stay a few nights but then have some excuse to get her out after that? I can do 4 days. Period. Even best friends, 4 days. Then my guests are bitches and I hate them. Until they leave then I miss em. :(
Once upon a time, Nola wrote..Galveston, Revisited